Page 57 of The Second Chance Cinema
Drake sighed. The sequence overwhelmed him. He considered ducking out of the theater, but that had led to an argument last time. So, Drake stared at his feet while the show continued, glancing up every now and then in morbid curiosity. It was humiliating—not what Ellie was doing, exactly, but the act of having to watch it back with her. How was she so calm in the seat next to him? The liaisons progressed:
At the dry cleaners.
In a park.
In the dressing room for a production ofThe Music Man.
In the empty reception hall of an opera house.
Over the kitchen counter.
Inside a pair of paint-stained overalls.
In front of a camera.
On a worn-out leather recliner.
Watched by hundreds of carefully placed dead animals.
In the parking lot of a restaurant.
And so on.
Drake squirmed. It was just sex, he reminded himself. So, Ellie had a life before him—a vibrant and experimental life. Who was he to judge her for it? He channeled his calm side until the movie took a new turn and focused on theendingsof these encounters. Ellie was always the one who left. At first, she told lies to untetherherself, but then seemed to realize disappearing was simpler. She was ruthless.
She darted out the door before the burrata was ready.
She crawled out the window while Joni wasBlue.
And snuck down the fire escape of the photographer’s loft.
She changed her walking route to avoid the dancer.
She left the taxidermist on read.
She ignored the doorbell when the line cook placed dinner on her doorstep.
And after all of that, the memory slowed down. Ellie met someone new.
The guy with the rooftop-level loft had the right things to say and the right suits. His name was Lucas. Lucas also had a specific glass for everything. Wines got the correct swirl, morning espresso came in bright stacked cups, and he knew what kind of liquor to put in a Nick and Nora glass. But along with being slick, he was sweet. In the mornings, Lucas left sticky notes by Ellie’s bed with sayings that made him think of her. He talked about his family often. On her birthday, he rented out a roller rink and invited Ellie’s friends. He held her hand as they wound their way through neon lights to slow jams, bumping shoulders with other twentysomethings already nostalgic for their youth.
Drake couldn’t help but compare himself to the person he was seeing on the screen. The similarities were easy to stack up. Lucas was Drake, but successful. Drake, but smoother around the edges. If there were an ideal person for Ellie to build a relationship with from her past—anyone to end the casual string of cameos—it should’ve been this guy. But the morning after the roller party, after he’d told her he loved her, Ellie snuck out his door while he showered.
“It’s over,” she told Jen later over scrambled eggs at brunch. “With Lucas, I mean.”
Jen hesitated. “But he’s perfect for you.”
“Meh.” The waitress topped their mimosa glasses.
“Lucas is the guy everyone wants,” Jen told her. “He’s sothoughtful.”
“Or boring.”
Jen grabbed Ellie’s arm. “What kind of person rents a roller rink for their girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” Ellie threw her hands up in protest. “No. No.”
“Okay,” Jen said. “Well, if it’s not Lucas, then who?”
