“What’s it about again?”
I run my thumb over my bottom lip. “I don’t really have a pitch put together yet.”
He gives me a look. “Do I look like a movie producer? Save it for your boss.”
I ignore that one.
“Come on,” he prods. “Tell me.”
I twist my hands together. There’s a lot on my mind, and I don’t really feel like talking about writing. I take a deep breath, racking my brain.
“It’s about this girl who moves to the south to live with her aunt after her family dies in a car accident. Strange things start to happen around her, and she discovers she has supernatural powers.”
“Ooh. So it’s a superhero movie?”
“No. It’s more subdued.”
“Is there a bad guy?”
“The town sheriff, who wants to turn her in to the government.” I shrug a shoulder. “It’s okay. I feel like there’s something lacking.”
“Like a… a what do you call it… a theme?”
“The theme is learning to let go and trust the new people in your life. The main character doesn’t get along with her aunt at first, but they have to learn to trust each other in order to beat the sheriff.”
“Cool.”
“Eh,” I mumble.
His thumb goes back to work. “What do you want to watch?”
I shrug. “Whatever. None of it is any good anyway.”
“Wow. Sorry to hear you feel that way, Miss Debbie Downer.”
I nibble at the edge of my fingernail. It doesn’t matter what Eryk calls me. It doesn’t matter what anyone says or does. All that matters is that the enigma of Simon Mulroney is threatening to destroy me.
“What’s up?” Eryk asks.
I look over at his face, the television screen flickering against it in the darkness. He’s still got his black work shirt on and smells faintly of kitchen grease.
“I lasted one hour.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
I sigh. “I had it together. I actually stopped caring about what that maniacal man does for a whole sixty minutes this morning. Then we had one conversation and I lost it.”
“You’re in love with him.”
I snort. “Yeah, that explains why I hate him so much.”
Eryk shrugs. “Damn, well, I don’t know. All I can say is I don’t think I’ve been as hot for someone the way I think you are for him. Maybe it’s because you’re a woman, and women are just crazy.”
“Hm.” I give it some thought. “Maybe.”
“So what happened?”
The words are lame before they even come out of my mouth. “He was nice to me.”
Eryk stares at me like I’m stupid. “Wasn’t he nice to you the other day?”
“Yeah, but this was different.”
“How?”
“It… I don’t know. It just was. It was more intense.” I drop my face into my palms. “I’m just being stupid. Oh my God, Eryk. What is going on with me?”
Eryk shimmies along the couch to settle next to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders. “Sydney Andrews, look at me.”
I drop my hands and do as he says.
“I’ve said it before,” he continues, “but I will say it again, since I obviously have to. You. Need. To. Get. Laid.”
I stick my bottom lip out. “I think you’re right.”
“Good. Now you’re getting some sense back in you. Do you want to get on Tinder right now?”
“What? No. I don’t have a Tinder account.”
He claps his hands together. “We’ll make you one.”
“No! Ew.”
He looks offended. “I have Tinder.”
“I bet you do.”
The offense increases two fold as evidenced by his eyebrows. “What is that attitude supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry. I just don’t want to do it that way. I don’t want to meet someone online.”
He sighs and falls back against the cushions. “You don’t want to meet someone online. You don’t want to meet someone at bars. You’re running out of available options here. Sounds like it’s gonna be either your boss or your body pillow, and only one of those options is going to buy you dinner.”
“Very funny,” I mutter.
“I try. Stay here.”
He hops up and runs for his bedroom. I bleakly watch a commercial for a multivitamin. By the time the thirty-second spot is over, he’s back.
“I think I just need an anti-depressant,” I tell him. “Drugs would make everything better.”
“They make anti-depressants in penis form.”
He settles cross-legged next to me, his laptop in his hands. “If you won’t get on Tinder, we can try something else. There are plenty of dating sites.”