The Love Interest

Chapter 13

"Let's get through this dialog without laughing." Blue has been a great help when it comes to memorizing lines, no matter how tedious they may be.

Technically speaking, I'm supposed to be practicing my lines with Mr. Thatcher, but due to some slight tendencies to romanticize the greeting of our two eyes, I think it's better off that I spend most my time with my safe place; my anchorage, per say. Studying lines with Blue felt soothing, and not at all of bodily harm to my lungs or heart. And get this: Hayes holds no suspicion, nor authorization, on how close I get to Blue. He encourages it, actually.

"I'm sorry! I just can't pronounce this." My fingers point to a heavily exaggerated word on my script. "Let me try again. Tricho...tillo-mania. Trichotillomania. Trichotillomania- what even is this word?"

Blue is quick to search up the definition of it with his Android, and his mouth shapes the letter 'O.' "It's the inability to resist the urge to...rip hair from your body. So, like...some people tear their eyelashes off, or-,"

"Say no more." I wince. "That hurts just to think about."

My apartment door handle jiggles again, warning me of the upcoming presence that I have to face: Atticus. This time, the door unlocks with one try, and the door shoots open hastily. He was probably hoping to walk in on something that wasn't as innocent as two people studying.

He immediately spots Blue and I sitting on my sofa, adjacent from each other, and his eyes droop despondently. That reminds me; I owe him an explanation. An adequate one, at that. One that doesn't at all sound like a Hallmark movie trope, and more like a calamitous coincidence...that included handcuffs and a bed.

"Hey, superstars." He greets in an unenthusiastic tone. "I'm the gay best friend I'm sure Vivi has been blabbering about. I must clarify that whenever I walk into her apartment because I want every male surrounding her to know that she's up for grabs. Especially since when I walked in last time-,"

"Atticus!" I seethe with through a phony simper. "How...nice of you to stop by. This..." I gesture to Blue, "is Blue Bell. Not Balls- but Bells. I know your mind tends to translate everything into balls, so don't get that mixed up-,"

"Thanks." Blue murmurs blandly.

"He plays my brother, Jace, in the Adair Affair. We're going over our lines."

Atticus walks over to us until he's standing in front of the sofa, his feet plant themselves on the carpeted floor in the exact same spot where Eden and I had laid to- no. Stop. It's our off week- Saturday, to be precise- and I haven't seen Eden since last Friday at work. I guess being out of his proximity has been good for me physically, but that doesn't help anything within me mentally.

That brings me to the desperate conclusion that I have to speak to my therapist about this, and by therapist, I really mean Atticus. It may be hard to believe, but he's actually really good at keeping secrets.

That same secretive man swerves his eyes between the two of us before they stick to Blue. "You're a cute, potential love interest. May I ask what your IQ is?"

I glance up at Atticus with a crease between my brow. "Please tell me you're asking on behalf of yourself."

Blue throws both hands up in the air, surrendering himself over. "I'm straight, unfortunately, but if girls keep filing restraining orders against me for having a name that rhymes with blue balls, I might have to reconsider my sexuality. And I don't know my IQ."

Atticus shoots me a pleased look, a grin stretching his mouth. "Ah, well, thank you for being upfront about it, Blue Bell, but I was asking on behalf of my virgin friend-,"