And I missed that light so much.
But I guess this was a teachable moment.
If you wait for other people to light you up, then I guess you’re at the mercy of darkness.
I WAS LYINGon the living room floor of our apartment, watching the ceiling fan blades spin and avoiding cleaning the bathroom, when I got a call from Logan.
“Are you sitting down?” Logan said.
“Even better,” I said. “I amlyingdown.”
“Brilliant,” Logan said. “Brace yourself.”
I flattened my arms against the floor. “I’m braced.”
“Donna Cole,” Logan said, “wants your screenplay.”
I sat up.My screenplay? What screenplay?“The Accidental Mermaid?” I asked. I never even gave it to her.
“The Rom-Commers,”Logan said.
“Okay, there’s been a mistake,” I said. “I haven’t written a screenplay calledThe Rom-Commers.”
“Yes, you have.”
“How? In my sleep? I’m telling you, I didn’t.”
“It’s the one you wrote with Charlie.”
“But that’s not calledThe Rom-Commers. It’s called—”
“He changed the title,” Logan said.
“But—”
“And the plot.”
“Apparently.”
“Now,” Logan said, “it’s about two screenwriters who write a script together and fall wildly in love.”
I ignored the funny flutter those words prompted in my chest. “That’s crazy,” I said—though, actually, it was kind of a great idea.
“And guess what?” Logan said. “It’s good.”
“Of course it is. It’s Charlie Yates.”
“Spoken like a person who called his last rom-com ‘a crime against humanity.’”
“Everybody deserves a mulligan.”
“I love your loyalty.”
“Charlie Yatesthe humanis complicated,” I said. “But Charlie Yatesthe writeris the love of my life.”
“You say that like they’re not the same guy.”
“When did he have time to do this?”