The Bookish Life of Nina Hill - Abbi Waxman Page 0,31
chattering over a postprandial brandy or whatever it is birds wind down with. A buttercup filled with dew? A half acorn filled with honey? It’s more likely they’re sipping rainwater from the crumpled edge of a Coors Light can, but whatever it is, it’s rocking their world, because they are singing their feathery little butts off. Sometimes, if she were sitting very still, Nina would see a raccoon, or a coyote, or a jackrabbit, all trying not to be seen and freezing when they noticed her, then dissolving away like Homer Simpson sliding back into the hedge.
As the light dwindled, palm trees and distant buildings would become black silhouettes against an impossibly rosy backdrop. Sunsets are beautiful in California, the cornflower blue of the sky diluting as the light fades into a teenage girl’s pastel palette of nail colors. The whole world is familiar with Big Bold Daytime LA, the blinding sun, the girls in shorts and roller skates, the traffic. They know Nighttime Glamorous LA, too, the paparazzi with their shouts and flashes, the starlets with their cleavage and heels. But only Angelenos get to see LA as she’s waking up and going to bed, and like many beautiful women, she looks best with her makeup off.
That evening, Nina could see the jacarandas were having their usual giddy effect: Every May, jacaranda trees burst into flower in an improbably riotous display of color. Ranging from deep purple to the palest violet, they bloom together on some prearranged schedule, so one night Angelenos go to bed in Kansas and wake up in Oz. They’re all over the city, hundreds of them, but until they bloom, they’re totally unremarkable. Like dozens of transformation scenes in movies from My Fair Lady to Mean Girls, jacarandas are the previously plain girl who suddenly gets a makeover and emerges triumphant to turn everyone’s head. They don’t last long, but while they’re there, people smile more. They flirt more. They feel spring in their step and summer in their underpants.
Nina hid behind her camera and watched people crowd together, or sail alone down the street, looking at one another from the corners of their eyes, noticing and seeing and ignoring like any herd congregating around a water hole. She never felt more contented than she did when she was seeing and taking pictures and being invisible. She thought maybe owls felt the same way, but she couldn’t turn her head 270 degrees, which was a total bummer.
Anyway, once the light had gone, she would take this happy feeling of peace and purpose with her to the movie theater, where she would sprinkle herself with heavily buttered popcorn and then spend the whole movie picking it out of her teeth.
The ArcLight was a Hollywood institution, a movie theater with great seats and amazing sound, plus the usual healthy range of unhealthy movie snacks. Nina loved going to the movies alone, even though Saturday night was always crowded.
It turned out it wasn’t Polly who had the pull with Fate, it was Nina, because the first person she saw as she walked into the movie theater lobby was the guy from You’re a Quizzard, Harry.
No, she said to herself. Ignore him. But then he looked up and saw her and smiled. Unbeknownst to her, he’d seen her, thought she was someone he knew, smiled, then realized she was someone he knew, she was that quiz girl who knew everything and not actually a friend of his, but by then it was too late because she was smiling back at him. Uncertainly, but definitely smiling.
Crap, thought Tom. She’s really so pretty.
Crap, thought Nina. He’s gorgeous.
Crap, thought Lisa, the girl from Quizzard, who had walked into the lobby to meet Tom to see a film and immediately saw Tom and Nina smiling at each other in a strained fashion across a twenty-foot distance. Go! she thought to herself, or rather to Tom, go talk to her. But he wasn’t moving, and the girl wasn’t moving, and so Lisa decided she needed to take matters into her own hands.
“Hey, Tom!” she called out, raising her hand.
Oh thank God, thought Tom, though he was also a little annoyed with himself. Why couldn’t he have gone and said hi, made a new friend? What was this, kindergarten?
Ah, thought Nina, he IS dating that girl from his team (which we all know is suicide for team cohesion) and that’s that. Not that there was any that there in the first place, of course .