when I walk out the door. I try to remember what everyone has been telling me—it’s okay to take the tiniest bit of time for myself.
Even if the last time I tried that it ended in us rushing back from Indianapolis.
I tuck my phone into my purse, pushing it out of my mind.
“We can turn around and go home,” I say as the one photographer takes a series of photos of Dungeon Master Rick (this is the moment that I realize the photographer is definitely hired by the theater or movie studio to make us feel important; there’s no way any media outlet would care this much about Dungeon Master Rick and the various poses he’s doing with his fedora).
“We’re not going home,” Nick says, grabbing my hand. “How about this? You want to leave, you squeeze my hand twice, and that’s it. We’ll get up and leave.”
I look at him and swallow, then nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
We walk past the lone photographer and I give him a quick wave as Nick refuses to stop. “Nope,” he says, pulling me along. “I’m not doing that.”
The lobby is crammed with everyone I know; for Annie, this must be like a pre-wedding, a celebration not of her and Drew but of the piece of entertainment that she made. Even though things are tense between us now (or however you would describe it after we yelled insults at each other while surrounded by fake penises), I’m exploding with pride for her. I may not fully support the content of her movie, but she did this. She made the thing she’s been talking about forever—not everyone can say they achieved their biggest dream.
“Chloe.”
Annie stands in front of me, her eyes wide and uncertain. She glances down at Nick’s hand holding mine, then looks away, like she wants to ask but is going to restrain herself.
“Hi,” I say, then add, “Congratulations. This is amazing.”
She gives me a tentative smile, and then I lean forward and wrap up her tiny body in a hug. Sure, I’m mad, or upset, or disappointed, or whatever (I do not have time to examine my feelings right now), but she’s my best friend, now and forever. That’s not going to change because of a fight.
Over her shoulder, I see Uncle Don and Tyler, plus all their D&D friends. Gary is here, although I’m pretty sure he primarily watches Wheel of Fortune, not rom-coms. Even Tobin is here, which means his roommate Marcus is filling in (Marcus takes over only in the case of emergencies, but Nick trusts him because he’s less accident prone than Tobin, although that really isn’t saying much). This room is packed full of people who know and love Annie, and, by extension, people who know and love me. And now those people are going to watch a fictionalized version of my life play out onscreen.
“Thank you for coming,” Annie says, smiling at me. “I was afraid . . .”
I shake my head. “I would never miss this.”
Drew appears behind Annie, looking less like a hulking action movie star and more like a rom-com lead in his suit. He puts his hand on her back. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think they’re ready for you to introduce the movie. Oh, hey, Chloe.”
I wave, and Nick lets go of my hand for a moment to give one of those brisk dude handshakes. But then his hand finds mine again, and it’s a relief to have him to hold on to.
Annie nods, biting her lip. “Okay, well, I guess I’m gonna head in. Oh, be sure to grab some popcorn. It’s free!”
I place my free hand over my heart. “Free popcorn? Why, you’ve pulled out all the stops.”
Annie leans over to give Nick a hug, too, which is a funny sight since she’s so small and he’s so tall. “Thank you for bringing her.”
“Yeah. Well.” Nick stiffens, uncomfortable with physical contact (although, as I remind myself, he seems plenty comfortable with physical contact from me).
Everyone files into the theater, and even though Nick starts to walk toward the front, where Annie and Drew are headed, I pull him toward the back. I’m pretty sure the last time I sat in the back of a movie theater, it was for clandestine make-out purposes, but right now I don’t think I can handle being up near the front. And also I want to be able to make an easy exit if necessary.
People keep filing in; so many people. People I don’t know,