Page 91 of First Impressions of You

If Winter can come to Olivia’s defense, the least I can do is the same. So, I wait for my mother to answer, ask her to get my father too, and tell them that their youngest daughter is a talented screenwriter who could use their support instead of judgment.

I tell them all the things I never had the guts to say before. But just like Winter showed up for Olivia because he wishes someone had been able to help him when it happened to him, I do the same. I show up for my sister in a way I was never able to do for myself.

Chapter 26

“I think she’s broken,” Olivia says.

“She’s spiraling,” Julia agrees.

I can hear them talking about me, but I can’t bring myself to react. I’m paralyzed in the middle of the living room, an empty cup of coffee I don’t remember picking up in my hand. My head is spinning with everything that can go wrong today crossing my mind as flashes of a horror movie I don’t want to watch but can’t look away from.

“Drink this,” Olivia demands, lifting my hand toward my mouth.

“It’s black coffee, Olivia,” Julia argues. “She hates it.”

“That sweet crap she drinks won’t do the trick now.” Her free hand waves in front of me before she snaps her fingers. “Luiza, drink this. One big gulp, come on.”

I can’t act on my own, but I don’t fight her when she brings the cup to my mouth. The hot liquid tastes like tar, the bitterness going down my throat like sandpaper. I cough as I try to keep that terrible flavor away from me.

It’s enough to bring me back to life. I push Olivia’s hand away from me. “This is horrible,” I complain.

“There she is.” Olivia smiles.

“Okay, come on, Luli. Let’s go.” Julia beckons me to the door.

I’m on autopilot as we make our way to the park. Our Uber pulls over at the drop-off area, and that’s where my sisters and I have to split ways. They’re walking into the park as guests through the front gate, while I have to go through the Sheriff’s Gate on Film Strip.

“You got this,” Julia says, squeezing me in a hug.

Olivia wraps her arms around me too. “Break a leg.”

I swipe my employee ID, greet the security guard, walk through the tunnel, all while a single sentence plays on an endless loop in my mind.

Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out.

My phone starts buzzing as soon as I climb the stairs back to ground level. Cece’s face fills up the screen as I accept the videocall.

“Hey, booboo,” she greets me, using the nickname she only uses when she’s drunk and her affectionate side comes out. But it’s the middle of the morning, and I’m fairly sure she’s at work.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” she says bitterly. “I’m trying to be supportive.” She pouts, then whines, “I wish I could be there.”

“I know, C. But you’ll come on the weekend.”

“Yeah, after everyone else has watched it,” she laments. “What kind of best friend privilege is that?”

I laugh. She’s been mad about missing my first performance ever since I told her it’d be on a Friday afternoon. Cece’s boss wouldn’t let her miss work for “such a frivolous reason.”

“So, how are you feeling?” she asks after I assure her she’s not losing her best friend card for missing today’s show. “Nervous? Excited?”

“Like I might puke at any moment?” I offer. “I don’t know. I feel like my body is buzzing. Like my brain won’t stop picturing everything that can go wrong. I dreamed that I forgot all my lines last night and I woke up crying. Literally crying. Like, tears soaking my pillow.”

“Wow,” she says. “You’re spiraling.”

“I know!” I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to regulate my breathing. “Distract me.”

“Okaaaay,” she elongates the word, thinking of something. “Right, uhhh… That guy you told me that offered to marry you for the green card. Tell me about him.”

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