Page 17 of First Impressions of You

“What are you going to do?”

“Drink my weight in alcohol and cry?”

“Let me know when.” I raise my coffee in a mock toast.

“What about you, Luli? Have you been auditioning?” I knew this was coming, and still I don’t feel ready to talk about it. I take a huge bite of my sandwich, which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. Our silent communication is too effective for my own good, though. She reads right into my silence. “What are you hiding from me?”

“Moi?” I feign offense. “I’d never.”

“Luiza Maria Bento.” Whenever she wants to pretend to be mad at me, she adds a nonexistent Maria to my name. She claims Luiza Bento is too short to sound mad at me.

“I’m waiting for the result of an audition.”

“How are you feeling about it?”

I take a moment to consider the answer. How am I really feeling about it?

“I think…” I try the words, but they’re so unfamiliar, they get stuck in my throat. I take a sip of coffee and try again. “I think I was good?”

“Oh my God!” The way she reacts, it seems like I just told her I was cast.

“But I don’t know,” I add quickly. “It’s just…”

“It doesn’t matter,” she cuts me off.

“What do you mean? Of course it does.”

“No, it doesn’t. I’m happy you’re confident about an audition for once. I’ve never heard you say that before, Luli. You know how fucking happy that makes me? You’re amazing. I’m glad to see you’re finally seeing that too.”

I don’t have it in me to correct her. But the truth is I can’t see myself the way she does. Yes, I don’t think the audition totally sucked, but I’m still not confident I’ll get the role. In fact, I’m almost sure I won’t, but that’s frustration for future Luiza to handle.

For now, I’ll just enjoy the company of my best friend and try to bask in the feeling her confidence gives me for as long as I can.

We spend hours catching up, and we only leave when we’re basically kicked out of the bakery. Before we go, though, I make sure to grab a handful of chicken croquettes, which are basically what we call coxinhas in Brazil and one of Olivia’s favorite pastries, a pistachio strawberry tartlet.

I’ve never been good with heartfelt conversations, but I know the ball is in my court. Olivia apologized for calling me a bitch, and now it’s my turn to apologize for the mean comment I made to her at the locker room.

When I get home, I call her name, but she doesn’t answer. The door to their bedroom is open, and there’s no one inside. I walk in to leave the apology gift on her nightstand, and I swear I don’t mean to snoop around, but I can’t pretend not to see the official-looking green envelope poking out from under a pile of disorganized papers.

I leave the paper bag with the pastry on her nightstand and turn to leave, but then my eyes catch on the logo, or what’s visible of it. It looks familiar, but I can’t quite place it. I hate myself for what I do next, but I can’t help it. Moving some papers out of the way, I finally see the entire logo.

The Golden Quill Awards.

What is Olivia doing with an envelope from a screenwriting award?

Chapter 05

That green envelope doesn’t leave my mind for the next few days, but I avoid asking Olivia about it because that would entail admitting I’d been snooping around, and the last thing I want is to start another fight with her.

And it’s her birthday week, and even though I’m slightly terrified of her turning twenty-one, I don’t want to ruin her moment.

I do wish she had given me the same consideration, though. When Friday rolls around and her birthday with it, I learn that she has invited everyone from Movieland to celebrate with her at The Reel Pub, the bar located at the south end of Film Strip. And everyone from Movieland apparently includes the actors too now. With Cam around because of Julia, Olivia decided to extend an invitation to the theater department as well, and I’m sure that it’s reached Winter.

If he’ll make it or not, that’s another question.

I don’t believe he will, though. Every interaction he’s had with Movieland employees so far has been out of obligation, and he always looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. I don’t see why he’d voluntarily come to a birthday party surrounded by people he considers so beneath him.

With that in mind, I walk into The Reel Pub a little past seven. The bar is already full, team members mixed with park visitors, everyone wanting to have a good time in this hot summer evening.

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