Page 32 of Advice from a Sunflower

“When Time Stood Stillis going to be a movie! I’ve been going back and forth with the studio about buying the rights, and they finally pulled the trigger! They want to get started with the screenplay right away while they collect the rest of the funds to produce. It’s a private studio in Cali. The guy’s son wants to get into directing and they couldn’t think of a better storyline to start with. His girlfriend loves the book.”

“I-I don’t know what to say. I thought you said we could never be sure with these things.”

“There’s still a lot of obstacles to go through but either way, we did it! We got one of your books sold for movie rights. Don’t worry about the logistics right now. Believe me, there will be tons of time for that. Celebrate, bitch! We’ll get together when you come home, and I’ll explain everything else then.”

I nod, realizing she can’t see me. “Okay. Okay, I’ll call you later.”

“Call me tomorrow. Celebrate tonight. I’m so proud of you, Lay. I can’t think of anyone else more deserving. I love you.”

She’s finally calmed down, speaking in a regular tone as she says the words I’ve craved my entire life. Natalie throws them around as if they mean nothing, unaware how much it means to me that she cares so much.

“Love you too,” I say before ending the call.

Silence fills the cab as I process the new information. Eli gives me a few moments before he finally speaks, pulling the truck into the parking lot of a fancy Italian restaurant two towns over. I didn’t even realize we’d been driving that long.

“Good news?” his low voice wonders, deep brown eyes watching me carefully.

I nod before finally allowing myself to smile, quietly mumbling, “My book is being made into a movie.”

Saying the words aloud seems to help fight through the shock. I’m still in disbelief, floating on a cloud of oblivion when Eli rounds the truck and opens my door for me, offering his arm to help me down.

“That’s pretty amazing news,” he admits, careful not to let his touch linger any longer than necessary once I’m safely out of the cab. It's obvious that this nice-guy charade is killing him to keep up. “But I knew you could do it. Don’t forget who used to spend their weekends editing your work.”

I consider that for a moment, grateful that the lobby of the restaurant is packed enough to make carrying on a conversation difficult. His words weren’t venomous or rude like usual, but something about the way he says them feels like they might have been intended that way and I can’t for the life of me figure out why he would be angry.

Eli leans over the podium to speak directly into the young hostess’s ear, his proximity igniting a rosy blush in her cheeks and chest. He acts completely unaware, even when she reaches out to lightly touch his hand before leading us to our table.

Which apparently, he had reserved beforehand.

I ignore the disgruntled scowls and murmurs coming from the waiting crowd, watching the floor as we’re led to a table set for two in a back corner.

“Do you take all your friends here?” I tease once the waitress turns to walk away, but not before touching his shoulder and assuring him she could take care of anything he needs tonight.

With a negative shake, he opens the large menu on his lap. “No, I come here a lot for work.”

He doesn’t explain any further than that and I awkwardly stare at him for a second too long before opening my own menu to hide behind it. The rational side of me remembers that a lot of time has passed since we last spoke like friends. People don’t remain the same people they were when they were eighteen forever, right?

But the immature coward inside me is once again screaming to get out of this restaurant as fast as I can and take the first flight home just to get away from the stranger that’s inhibiting the body of the man I once knew. Marnie would understand, wouldn’t she?

“Do you still only live off pasta?” he asks, pulling my thoughts away from my escape plan.

“Excuse me?” My voice comes out a little harsher than I intend it to. I don’t correct it though, because for some reason, he’s turned the temperature of his attitude down about fifty degrees since we stepped into the restaurant. Hell, since I took the phone call from Natalie on the way over, he’s been chilly and distant. Maybe he’s one of those weird people who are put off by people using their phone on dates. Although, this isn’t a date… is it?

He sets his menu on the table and sips from the water sitting in front of him, surveying me over the glass through narrowed slits. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he planned for the night to be this painfully awkward—that he was trying to make it so.

“Do you only live off pasta?” he repeats, lowering his voice to make it harder to hear.

Is he taunting me?

“Last I remember, you were practically living off carbs to save the chickens or something.”

I plaster the fake smile I perfected for book signings across my face as a defense mechanism. I don't know why he’s turned this into such a tense dinner, but I’m not going to let him steamroll me the way I would have in the past.

I’m not even sure if he realizes that the question isn’t only a dig at me, it’s evidence of the wedge that was driven between us all those years ago. He’s referring to a phase I went through sophomore year, when I watched a load of documentaries on the mistreatment of animals that were bred for human consumption. I refused to eat meat for six months and Denise refused to buy anything else. The money I made at the diner was minimal at the time, so I was stuck eating pasta for nearly every meal.

Eli mocked me for it every time he came near me, teasing that one small girl in a town that couldn’t even be found on the map wouldn’t make a difference to an entire industry. I gave in and ate a hamburger shortly after Eli joined the baseball team and my body punished me for days. I vowed to take less extreme measures next time I wanted to support a cause.

“Working on fighting any other losing battles lately?” his sardonic voice pushes from across the table.

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