Through the Lens | Dodie Clark

2

I first fell in love with Dodie's laugh. Second would come her ability to make me laugh. Then her musical abilities. It wouldn't be long before I would fall in love with her mind's intricacies. Lastly I would realize that I'd been in love with her entirety the whole time.

/436 days/

I'd spent a good chunk of my free time frantically searching for the small slip of paper where Dodie had scrawled her number three nights before. I was never an organized person, and getting drunk surely didn't help.

I learned not to trust Drunk Evie when she tried stealing all of the snacks at the last party she went to (she didn't get very far). And I might've even thought that Drunk Evie had made up Dodie to seem a little less sad and a little less lonely, if not for the video evidence that remained on my camera.

Watching the footage over again proved to be entertaining, to say the least. I guess I had been so focused on Dodie that I hadn't noticed the man behind her, who decided it was his time to shine on camera- stripping his shirt, dancing, and finishing off with a rather impressive belch while staring intently into the lens. I think it added a charming contrast to Dodie's sentimentality. Even better than the fight I was originally shooting for.

I'd always been the melodramatic type to wallow in self pity, accepting failure without making any sort of effort to look for a solution. So naturally, after I gave up on looking for the lost phone number, I shut myself in my room and replayed the 10 second clip as I mourned the loss of Dodie, or more accurately, the slim possibility of a relationship with Dodie. After a day I'd move on, but had to feel bad for myself first. I would have draped myself across a grand piano and sang a slow burning love ballad, if I had a piano and an ounce of motivation.

Margo poked her head through my door after a morning jam packed with sadness. "Hey, I'm gonna grab something to eat, care to join?"

Disregarding her proposal, I waved her into my room. "Isn't she beautiful," I sighed, showing her the video. "She gave me her number, but I lost it."

"That's why you're all mopey?" She laughed as she leaned back against the wall.

I shut off the camera and sat up in my bed, scrunching up my face. "What?"

"Well," Margo explained as she walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. I made a point to visibly frown at her shoes, which were inevitably dirtying up my recently hoovered floor. She rolled her eyes. "You're not in a Shakespeare play, so there's no need to kill yourself just yet. She probably was invited by your coworker. He could probably hook you up if you give him a call. Problem solved."

Margo was a practical thinker; I tended to get carried away with my feelings. We balanced each other out quite nicely.

"Oh. . . What would I do without you?"

"I don't think you'd last long. Now come on, I need someone to help me eat a pizza."

"As long as you remain as my voice of sanity, I'll be glad to fill in as your designated pizza eating partner." I held out both of my arms so she could tug me out of my warm bed.

/435 days/

While Drunk Evie definitely had good share of her problems, I could commend her on her confidence, something that Normal Evie lacked. Every time I built up the courage to dial her number, I'd stare at the screen and get too nervous to press the call button. Eventually I'd grumble to myself and shove the phone back into my pocket, only to repeat the process minutes later. Margo, who was sat at the sofa opposite of me, watched as I dragged myself through the painful cycle for too long until deciding to interfere.

"For the love of god, Evie!" She leaned over and pressed it for me.

"Hey!-"

"You'll thank me later," she replied. I watched her hop off the sofa and leave the room with my mouth agape.