“They’re not people, they’re teachers,” he joked. “It’s my schoolteacher holiday party. There will probably be 25 people there. They’re a lot of fun and nice people. None of them work in entertainment, so there’s that.”
“I don’t know what I would wear.”
“Anything you wanted to. Technically, it’s an ugly holiday sweater party, but I’m still debating.”
I raised an eyebrow at the way he drew out the worddebating. He gestured for me to look around the corner. Sitting on top of the dryer was a neon-colored Hawaiian-themed sweater with a pink flamingo wearing a Santa hat, fake beard and snow glasses. It read,Alo-Ho Ho Hoin pink letters across the bottom.
I walked back into the living room and stared at him in the kitchen. “Wow,” was all I got out. “If there’s a contest, you’ll probably win.”
“Hardy-har-har. It’s not that bad.”
“Oh, it’s that bad.” I chuckled and smiled for the first time in 24 hours. “It’s so bad that it’s almost perfect. I’m almost tempted to go with you just to watch people’s expressions when they take it all in. Where does one find a monstrosity like that?”
“Amazon,” Kirk said matter-of-factly. “I typed inugly Christmas sweater, and there were many of them. That one was a little over the top, but it was more special when I took it out of the box.”
“Well, if it doesn’t win as an ugly sweater, you could wear it as a bicycle safety vest. There’s no way a driver couldn’t see you with that thing shining at them. Honestly, if I didn’t know better, I swear it glows on its own.”
“Oh, it actually has glow-in-the-dark threads.”
“Wow…now I have to go to your party to cheer you on.”
“Really?” he asked me.
“And pass up an opportunity like this? I’m there. What time do I need to be ready?”
“It starts at 7:00 p.m., so I’ll pick you up at 6:45? We can walk over. It’s only a couple of blocks.”
“Sounds like a date,” the words slipped out of my mouth so effortlessly. Thankfully, he wasn’t looking at me when I said them. I blurted goodbye and walked next door to figure out what I would wear for the evening.
What am I going to wear?I tore through my closet like a crazy person. I didn’t have many Christmasy outfits, so I went with a traditional color pattern. It wasn’t until I was fully dressed that I realized it was the same outfit I’d worn to the audition forThe Naughty List, which meant I had worn it on the day I met Kirk.I can’t believe that was only like six weeks ago…if that.I sat there trying to do the mental math in my head but gave up.
“We’ll say six weeks. It’s faster,” I told Bootsy. For some reason, he didn’t feel the need to respond to my craziness. How rude!
I was ready by 6:30 and proceeded to pace around the apartment, unsure what else to do. Bootsy watched me from the couch as I walked to-and-fro, like some kind of crazy tennis match—only I was the ball. When the knock finally came at 6:40, I was like,finally. I walked over to the door and opened it.
“You’re ear—“
“Hey there,” Asher said. “You look amazing. Going somewhere?”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Bootsy made a dash for the door at that moment, but I swooped down and grabbed him at the last second.
“Who’s this little guy?” Asher asked.
“His name is Bootsy. Best rebound man I’ve ever had.” Once the words were out of my mouth, there was no taking them back. “At least I didn’t name him Asher 2.0,” I tried to joke.
Asher stared at Bootsy. “So, you’re my replacement?” he questioned with a smile as he scratched Bootsy on the head.
“As to your first question, I am going somewhere. My neighbor invited me to a Christmas party. I needed to get out of the apartment, so I agreed to go.”
“Good for you,” Asher said.
“You might as well come in,” I said, getting out of the door and gesturing with Bootsy to enter. Once Asher was inside and the door closed, I put Bootsy on the ground. Bootsy sauntered back to his place on the couch and warily eyed Asher.Good Bootsy.Part of me wished Bootsy had drawn blood when Asher pet him, but I suppressed that thought as soon as it entered my head. I’d been on Team Death to Asher for so many years, it was hard to see him as a guy or a colleague. Even if we had buried the hatchet—and it hadn’t been in his back—I still wasn’t his best friend.
“Why are you here, Asher?” He looked a bit taken aback by my bluntness. “I’m sorry. It’s just…my neighbor will be here any minute, so I don’t have time for a lot of small talk.”
“That’s fine. I get it. I just…I wanted to say what they did to you yesterday sucked. Frankly, the cast is in an uproar. Some were not exactly happy with what you said, but even they thought you had maligned no one or the show. Everything you said was fact.”
“Thanks for letting me know. That means a lot.”
