The Exact Opposite of Okay(24)
Eventually we stop in a little clearing, and I’m so exhausted I just flump to the ground and lean back against a tree trunk. “Did you sleep as terribly as I did last night?”
He smiles, despite the fact this situation could not be any less funny. “If by terribly you mean not at all then yeah.”
I sigh and let my eyes flutter closed, partly because looking at him is hard and guilt-inducing [not hard-inducing, now is not the time for boners], and partly because I’m hoping I can squeeze in a little nap between now and the next sentence.
“Danny, I’m so sorry. I thought I wanted . . .”
“I thought you did too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have . . .”
I grimace. “Our sentence-finishing abilities never cease to amaze me.”
He sits down next to me and flashbacks from last night play in my mind. He tugs a handful of long grass from the ground and starts tearing it to shreds. The earth smells damp around us, and the only nearby sound is the phys ed dude grunting manically as he does chinups like his life depends on it. Maybe it does. I don’t know his circumstances.
“Hey,” Danny says. “Remember when we were kids and we used to find hours of entertainment with just a pack of white chalk?”
I smile, despite the situation, tilting my head back so it’s leaning against the tree trunk. “We’d go out onto the sidewalk and draw miniature towns on the concrete.”
“Yup. Then populate them with completely bonkers characters, and act out full-blown soap-opera scenes.” A funny little snort. “I’ll never forget the misogynistic old storekeeper you role-played all the time.”
“That guy was a dick,” I reply, indignant. “He thought all women owed him something. I’ll never forgive him for how he treated his imaginary wife.”
We both sit silently for a moment, reliving our screwed-up childhood. Well, mine was screwed up. I just dragged Danny along for the ride.
Weighing his words carefully, he adds, “You’re like a sister to me, Iz. Always have been. Which is what makes this so confusing.”
I feel like now would be an inappropriate time for incest-themed Lannister jokes, so I stay schtum.
His throat sounds thick as he says, “You know how I feel about you.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I didn’t want to pressure you.”
“You didn’t.” I mean it too. I knew exactly what I was doing, and need to own my share of the responsibility. I can scarcely ask the next question, but I know I have to. “What now?”
He runs his hands through his ridiculous hair. I want so badly to hug him, but I can’t tell whether that’d make it worse.
Quietly he mumbles, “I know how I feel, but I also know how you feel. And that’s okay. I didn’t plan for this to happen, and I won’t let it ruin our friendship. It’s only a matter of time before you do something disgusting and ruin it for me. It’ll pass, I’m sure. Like a kidney stone. Might be painful, but it will pass.” Another smile, but there’s not much strength behind it.
We stand up, and we hug, and we do the only thing we can do: we move on.
Ajita is relieved as hell when we make it back with both of us tear-free and relatively unscathed. “Oh, thank God. For a moment I was genuinely concerned our tripod was about to lose a leg. Now please, eat some cheese fries. Drink some soda. Rub ketchup on your naked chests. It’s going to be a-okay.”
Tuesday 20 September
4.41 p.m.
The life-changing email comes through in the last period of the day, and I squeal like a pig having a bikini wax. [Do pigs even have pubes? These are the important questions, folks.]
The teacher doesn’t notice, but Ajita looks at me quizzically, which is fair given that I don’t normally sound like a farm animal maintaining its hair-removal regimen. So I fire off a text riddled with excitement-induced punctuation discrepancies.
I made the screenplay competition longlist!!1!!1!!11!!!!
Seeing her little face light up across the room is the best feeling ever. I did that! My accomplishment made another human being happy!
Shut the front door! Dude!! I am so proud of you. That is not something I ever thought possible, because you are a mess and a joke in every facet of existence, but it’s true. I’m proud. What happens now!? xo
I’m grinning harder than a grinning machine in turbo mode at this point.
I receive feedback from the judges, who are like, super-duper hotshot producers and script developers, then I get a couple weeks to make changes. Then I send it back and they decide the shortlist from there! Then another round of feedback! Then the finalists are announced – and those lucky three get MEETINGS WITH AGENTS AND MANAGERS AND GAHHH! Who’d’ve thunk! My dumb sense of humor is actually translatable to real marketable screenplays!
Ajita smirks as she’s typing her scathing response.
It definitely would not have even crossed my mind to thunk. In fact your terrible sense of humor has rendered me completely unable to thunk in any way whatsoever. You are the single least funny person in the northern hemisphere. xo
This may sound horrible and not supportive at all, but our century of friendship has taught me that she makes very little sense when happy and excited. Her confusing usage of the incorrect past participle of the verb ‘to think’ leads me to believe that actually she might not hate me as much as she says she does. Bless.