Page 92 of First Impressions of You

That does the trick. Her request snaps me right out of my spiral.

“What? Colin? Why? What do you mean? Why? Why do you ask?”

“Well, you might pass on his offer, but God knows I’ll do anything not to go back to Brazil.”

“Except marry Colin to get a green card,” I say, hoping she starts laughing. When she doesn’t, I plead. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Okay, you and Kat are so quick to tell me not to marry this guy, but neither of you have presented me with a better option yet.”

“Who’s Kat? And have you actually thought about that?”

“My friend at work. You met her at my birthday. But anyway, unimportant. Yes, I thought about that. My time’s almost up, Luli. I’m running out of ideas.”

“Look, if two of your friends are telling you not to do it, then maybe this isn’t a good idea?”

“You can judge me for considering marriage all you want, but while you don’t come up with a better solution, this is all I got.”

“I’m not judging you because you want a marriage of convenience! We all know that’s unfortunately how a lot of people get to stay. I am, however, judging you”—I bring my free hand in front of the camera, pinching my index and thumb close together—“just a little bit for being willing to marry Colin of all people.”

“Well, again,” she stresses the second word more than necessary, “I don’t see an alternative.”

“Can’t you at least find someone who isn’t so…” I try to find a word to describe Colin. “Repulsive?”

“It’s not like I have a pool of people to choose from.” She shakes her head. “Anyway, you have a play to get ready for. Shit for you.”

I laugh at her literal translation.

“What? Isn’t that what you should tell an actor before they go on stage?”

“In Portuguese, yes,” I explain. “We say ‘merda,’ but in English the expression is ‘break a leg.’ It’s not a literal translation.”

“Whatever. Neither of them makes sense anyway. Te amo, amiga. Arrasa.”

“Eu também te amo.”

The dressing room is so busy, I don’t get a moment alone with Winter. But as soon as I step into Melina’s wedding gown, it’s like my anxiety is wiped away. A sense of calmness, of rightness dwells in me. A certainty that this is what I’m meant to be doing. That I got this.

When Mia, the stage manager, gives us the five-minute warning, I know for a fact that there’s no one else that could be Melina in this play. She and I have fused together. I’m her, and she’s me.

Even when I’m told there’s press attending the show, that conviction doesn’t waver.

This strong sense of self-assurance walks on stage with me as I bring Melina in front of an audience for the first time. Throughout the whole play, my confidence never falters. And it’s different than what I was used to feel. This strong belief in myself isn’t a costume I’m putting on. It’s coming from within, like a seed finally blossoming after receiving proper care.

The whole play lasts about forty minutes, but today, it’s all done in the blink of an eye, and before I realize it, it’s time for Melina and Arthur’s kiss.

Slowly, Winter lowers his face to mine. His eyes closing, as he touches his lips to mine, the sweetness of his cinnamon taste floating straight to my chest. I feel like I’ve been breathing at half capacity since I woke up this morning, and now I can finally fill my lungs with air.

I don’t know how I’ve survived all my life without his mouth on mine.

The kiss is brief. Chaste. Tender. But it’s a strong enough reminder that I love him. I love Winter. I love him with every cell in my body.

The audience breaks out in applause, breaking the spell between us, and slowly the applause turns into a roaring standing ovation. Winter finds my hand and squeezes it, and then we’re joined by the entire cast on stage as we take our bows. Everyone’s beaming, exhilaration permeating the air. We did it. We performed in front of an audience for the first time, and it was perfect.

The energy follows us to the dressing room as we walk off the stage. The buzz of excitement is so loud, I can’t hear my own thoughts.

A knock on the door is followed by Emily walking in. Everyone starts clapping for our director, congratulating her on the great job she’s done. She waves us off, returning the praise back to us.

When her eyes meet mine, she nods to the door, and I quickly follow her outside.

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