It took only ten seconds of the intermission for a window to open on the first floor.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” came a voice attached to perfectly coiffed blonde hair.
So I did what any normal person would do in a situation like this. I started singing.
“Michael Rennie was ill, the day the Earth stood still. But he told us where we stand. And Flash Gordon was there in silver underwear. Claude Rains was the Invisible Man…”
The most dramatic eye roll crossed my best friend's face before he closed the window.
Instead of giving up, I sang louder. My teeth chattered from the cold.
Then the front door opened. I threw a handful of rice in Otis’s face. He flinched and picked a piece from his hair.
“Okay, you truly lost your mind,” he said.
“Science fiction…whooooo hooooo…double-feature. Dr. X will build a creature. See androids fighting, Brad and Janet. Anne Francis stars inForbidden Planet, Ahhahooo—at the late night…”
“Okay, stop,” Otis waved his hands. “Are you planning to perform the entire show in front of my door?” He had to shout over the blasting music.
“To be fair, I’d hoped you’d interrupt me earlier,” I said, crossing my arms in front of me. He did the same but leaned his weight against the doorframe, raising a brow.
I huffed. “Fine.” I turned down the volume but then pulled the top hat from my head and started a poor imitation of a tap dance.
“Okay, Nora, stop. I get what you’re doing, but this…” He circled his finger over my outfit. “Is not enough to win me back.”
I held out a hand. “Give me a second.” I crouched down to my backpack and retrieved my spelling bee statue. I held it out to him, but didn’t step any closer. I wanted him to close the distance.
He took a theatrical breath like I’d asked him to move a mountain, but I saw curiosity win.
He flinched at the ice-cold wind, but as he took in the statue, his expression softened. I’d rubbed off my spelling bee credentials with rubbing alcohol and replaced it with a dedication in Sharpie.
“It’s an Oscar. For what, I’m sure, was the performance of the century.”
“For my best friend and fiercest bitch,” he read.
I nodded. “Two truths and a lie. I would trade all my signed first editions just so you give me another chance. I promise to never let you down again. I want to change my career to theater.”
He tilted his head, looking past me at the car. Then he frowned. “Did you…drive here? By yourself?”
I nodded.
That seemed to do it. His face softened. “I mean, I’d fully planned to let your naughty bits freeze out there. For fuck’s sake, Nora,” he wiped a tear away. “Get your ass in here.”
I didn’t step in. I threw myself into his arms.
“What now?” he asked after he’d handed me a ridiculous giant bunny onesie to wear and settled me down with a cup ofGlühwein. Mom had pressed a bottle of the German spiced wine into my hand before I left—a sign she missed him, too.
I sipped the tangy, warm drink, memories of Christmas markets easing the tension. I sat on Otis’s kitchen island, decorated with bowls full of monochrome glass ornaments.
“You could move in here,” Otis suggested. He still lived with his parents, in a house that had more rooms than sense. Otis was waiting for his next birthday to tap into his trust fund, likely to buy a communal theater where he could play every major role and host weekend sex parties. “My parents are gone over the holidays.”
As nice as the offer was, I shook my head. “I’m back at Mom’s. It’s fine for now. We redecorated.” I showed him a picture of the pink kitchen on my phone. He was both surprised and approving.
“How’s Jeremy?” I asked, forcing a tentative smile.
He folded his hands underneath his chin. “He’s been around. But we want to keep it slow.”
I raised a brow. “Slow? You?”
