Page 32 of First Impressions of You

“No, it’s not.”

“Of course it is, and you know it.”

“How so?”

“It just is.”

Colin watches our exchange like he’s at a tennis match.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Winter hisses, tired of the childish back-and-forth.

“No,” I say, and Colin gasps at my side. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Then, I leave both of them speechless as I walk to wardrobe to change and collect myself before I go see the theater department manager.

Chapter 08

“We’re so excited to have you in the cast,” Anne Marie, the theater department manager, says after I’ve signed a ridiculous amount of paperwork a couple of days later. Signing an NDA kind of makes me feel important, but all the other release forms make it feel like I’m selling my soul to Movieland. At least while I’m in the play.

She stands up, reaching her hand across her large desk for me. I take it as I stand up too.

Anne Marie’s office stands in a corner, overlooking the east side of Film Strip. From here, she can’t see the park, but there’s no way to forget where we are. Even in this marbled-floor space with an elegant glass-and-steel desk, Movieland’s signature colors, deep violet and gold, pop up on the fabric of the couch. On the standing lamp. And, of course, on the logo displayed on an accent wall, with the curved film strip forming a letter ‘M’ also resembling a roller coaster above the name of the park written in a vintage font. The three golden stars to the right complete the logo. Right under the focal piece, a set of pictures depicting the evolution of the park throughout the years since the opening in 1985.

“We’ll talk more about promo later on.” She rounds her desk, beckoning me to follow her to the door. “Right now, you can go to wardrobe so they can fit you for costumes.”

“Thank you, Anne Marie.” I offer her a smile. “So, wardrobe now? On the third floor?”

“Oh.” She stops as she opens the door for me. “No, no. I’m sorry. We are an entirely separate department. Theater wardrobe is on this floor.” Nodding to a place down the hall, she continues, “Third door down. On the right.”

Somehow, it’s knowing that the theater department has even a different wardrobe room that makes this feel real to me.

It dawns on me that I’m never getting out on the third floor again. I’m never going to desperately look for a size large women’s polo shirt on the rack, only to realize they’re all out. I’m never going to have to hunt for a free locker to leave my stuff in again. I should be ecstatic about it, but there’s a part of me that kind of mourns that life.

It’s been all I’ve known since I moved here, and it feels terrifying to leave it behind. To replace the familiar with the unknown. To take a risk .

Ultimately, I know where this feeling is coming from, and I know it has nothing to do with saying goodbye to the job I’ve had at the front gate for six months. It’s not even about starting at a new one.

It’s about this dangerous sense of hope that I’m starting to feel again after so long. A feeling I had all but considered dried out after so many rejections, but somehow, it’s starting to sprout back to life with just one drop of a yes.

The problem with hope, though, is the risk of disappointment that comes with it. And if I’m knocked down again, I’m scared I won’t be able to get up this time.

Lost in my thoughts, I realize I got lost in the real world too. Tracing back my steps, I finally find the door Anne Marie indicated and give it a gentle knock. When I don’t hear an answer, I try opening it slowly. The scene revealed behind the door takes me by surprise.

Right there, in the middle of the room, on an alteration stand, like a statue on a pedestal, Winter stands half naked, looking like he too might belong in a museum. Like he could’ve been sculpted by Michelangelo himself, dashing away all my hopes that somehow his body wouldn’t be nearly half as beautiful as his face.

Boy, how I was wrong.

Neither Winter nor the two ladies surrounding him have noticed me yet, so I take the moment to creepily watch him, praying I’ll find an unforgivable flaw in him. But as my eyes roam over his body, I find nothing. His defined torso tells me he visits the gym frequently but not so much as to earn him a six-pack. The light hair on his chest matching the happy trail right under his navel takes my imagination to places I shouldn’t allow it to go.

But damn if the feeling that spreads through my body isn’t a good one. I’m basking in the warmth of this tingling sensation running in my veins when a sound cuts through the air, pulling me out of this lust-induced trance.

It’s such an unexpected sound that it takes me a second to place it. It’s laughter. The kind of laughter that comes deep in the belly, gaining energy as it travels through the throat until it finally explodes out of the lips. It’s the kind of laughter that makes you fold your body in half and cross your arms around your middle.

Which is exactly what Winter is doing.

Winter is laughing. With his whole body. A body that is currently half naked right in front of me.

And all I can think about is how I’d do nameless things to hear the sound of his laughter again.

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