Page 20 of Bodied

He scooted closer to her. “What happened?”

“I didn’t…” She gulped and fought back fresh tears. “I didn’t get the part.”

“What?” That didn’t seem right.

“They called last night. They gave it to the other girl.”

“But they told you that was just a formality,” he recalled. “Didn’t they? They told you that you already had the part.” The fact that he cared as much as he did was as surprising to him as it probably was to her.

She bawled. “I know! And I was so stupid to believe them. They probably just told me that so I wouldn’t nag them for an answer.”

None of this struck Wesley as normal, but he didn’t have much experience in the realm of theater or film. Maybe this was how they treated each other in that world. If so, he didn’t see why Lauren was so eager to be part of it. “I’ll be right back.” He got up from the bed and started toward her kitchen. “You need to eat something.”

“No way!” she called after him. “I’m on a diet.”

“You’re hungover,” he said. “From crying, at least, but judging by the bottle on your coffee table, from a little comfort drinking, too. You need to eat breakfast, and drink some fluids.”

“I can handle it,” she said.

“I know you can.” He knew better than to treat her like a helpless princess. As much as he liked to joke with her about her apparently lofty position, he could tell that independence was important to her, especially in moments like these. “I just want to help. It’ll make me feel better about barging in on you this morning.”

He heard her groan and make her way to her bathroom. “Ugh, fine. Do whatever you want. I’m taking a shower.”

Once he heard the water running, Wesley laid his palms against the kitchen counter and willed his heart to slow down. His panic had gone deeper than he’d thought, and he needed to take a minute before cooking anything to avoid burning the kitchen — and subsequently the entire apartment building — to the ground. He leaned further over the counter, letting his head come to rest on his forearms. “Breathe,” he muttered to himself. “Just breathe.”

When he’d settled his nerves, he opened the fridge and found eggs. He grabbed fruit and bread from the counter and started putting together a breakfast of scrambled eggs, cut fruit, and toast. Lauren came out from the bathroom just as he finished plating the meal. She sat at her breakfast bar, and he set the plate in front of her before pouring her a glass of orange juice.

“No coffee?” she grumbled.

“I’ll make you some. Just eat what’s there, or as much of it as you can without throwing up.”

She glared at him. “I never throw up.”

“Good for you.” He nudged the fork closer to her. “Now eat.”

She finished her breakfast in silence while Wesley made her coffee.

“Cream or sugar?” he asked. She shook her head, and he gave it to her black. Then he sat beside her. “I know it probably feels hopeless right now, but they wouldn’t have told you that you had the part if you weren’t talented. Even if they went another route in the end, there will be other auditions, right? Don’t give up.”

Lauren washed her toast down with coffee. “Easy for you to say.”

“You just need to pick up where you left off. Don’t let it get to you. Like… why did you skip your jog this morning? Endorphins would be good for you right now.”

“I’m done with working out,” she said bitterly. But Wesley could tell she didn’t mean it. “There’s no point.”

Wesley shook his head. “The point is to stay healthy because you feel better when you’re healthy.”

“Silly assumption.” Lauren left half her food on the plate and wandered to the couch, where she flopped down and buried her face in the cushions. “I choose to wallow in self-pity.”

Wesley couldn’t stand to see her so low. “You have three hours to wallow,” he said. “I’m taking you out tonight. Until then, do you want to watch a movie?”

“I don’t want to deal with people today,” she mumbled into the cushions. “Don’t make me.”

“I promise, you won’t have to talk to a single other person, okay? Come on. Trust me just this once. Now what movie do you want to watch?”

* * *

Wesley spent the morning with Lauren while she watched another comfort-film and periodically moped. He let her have some time to put herself back together, but by the time the afternoon rolled around, he finally put his foot down. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”

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