could uplift people and make them better. Something that, in the right hands, could change things.
Theater was something I wanted to be a part of. I really, really didn’t want to order office supplies for the rest of my life. Hamilton made me feel overjoyed, but it also made me feel restless. Like I was wasting my life. Sure, I had rent and bills to pay, so I needed my job. But wasn’t there anything more than that?
That led me to thinking about Holden—because, honestly, everything led me to thinking about Holden. Damn him and his blue eyes and his sexy body that wouldn’t leave my head. I’d had time to process what he’d told me, and to my surprise, I wasn’t mad about it. In fact, thinking about prom night had a lot less pain than it used to. For ten years it had been like a raw bruise just under my skin that hurt to touch. But now the pain was faint, as if it was going away.
Are you working? I texted him on Sunday afternoon, as I lay on my sofa, half watching You on Netflix for the second time. (Don’t judge.)
Holden’s reply was immediate, as if he’d been waiting, which if course was crazy. Yeah, but I’m doing charts, he said. What’s up? How was the show?
It was incredible, I texted back. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I have a confession.
I can take it, Holden wrote. Go ahead.
I paused, and then I typed as fast as I could so I wouldn’t lose my nerve. I think I might be over what happened on prom night.
There was a pause, probably of surprise. Then he wrote: Over it?
I think so, I wrote. I don’t get so crazy when I think about it anymore. I’m thinking about it right now and I don’t want to cry.
Holden: Jesus, Mina, I’m such an asshole.
Me: No, what I’m saying is that I’m moving on with my life. I’ve let it go. Sort of? I think?
Okay, Holden wrote. I’m happy if you are. Does this mean we’re friends?
Me: Were you worried we weren’t?
Holden: After what I told you, of course I was.
That was kind of sweet, that he’d been worried I wouldn’t want to talk to him again. And yes, standing me up on prom night was—at least to date—the shittiest thing that had ever happened to me. But God, I was almost thirty. I didn’t need to let prom night define my entire life.
The fact was, Holden had been a stupid teenager with an asshole for a big brother. And he’d stupidly listened to his big brother and gotten stupidly drunk instead of going out with me. That was it—that was the whole story. It wasn’t unusual, and it wasn’t all that interesting. The Holden I knew now was deep and funny and sexy and thoughtful, considerate and smoking hot. And we had… something. I’d never known exactly what that something was. Something I’d never had with any other guy, for sure. At least, not a real life guy. I’d been pretty smitten with a few of my book boyfriends, but maybe they didn’t count.
Don’t worry, I texted to Holden. We’re friends.
But even as I wrote the words, they didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to be just friends with Holden. What was I supposed to do, hang out with him without wanting to go home with him? Talk about the weather? Stand by while he dated other women? That was what the fat girl was supposed to do, right? Stand by and stay single instead of actually getting the guy?
I didn’t know what do to about it, and I had no time to think it over, because there was a knock on my apartment door and Tess came in, using her key. “Okay, I’m here,” she announced, “as requested. Begin movie night.”
I quickly texted Holden that Tess was over and I’d talk to him later, then put my phone down. “Have a seat, young one,” I said. “Tonight you will watch and learn.”
She flopped dramatically on the couch, enjoying milking the situation. I’d pleaded with her to come over and watch movies until she finally agreed, and now she got to lord it over me, even though I was pretty sure she’d wanted to come in the first place. “Oh God, are we going to watch something from when you were my age?” she said. “It’s going to be boring.”
“No, it’s going to be awesome,” I said. “And