《mamma mia | jeremy jordan》29. girls night
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Ana attempted to avoid all interaction with any human being once she got off work, but her wishes to see Laura from earlier in the week were just now coming true.
Of course, they'd been seeing a lot of each other in passing. But they hadn't done any form of hanging out together in a very long time.
When she got home, Ana b-lined for her bedroom. She hadn't noticed Laura on the couch with a glass of wine and a Friends rerun playing on the television. But, Laura saw her roommate.
She paused the television and waited for Ana to come back out, most likely for a granola bar or a handful of Cheez-Its. Ana changed out of her work clothes and into a pair of shorts and a hoodie that was not her own.
She went for the third kitchen cabinet and her ears noticed the fact that the tv wasn't playing anymore. As she turned to set the red box on the counter, her eyes caught Laura's. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off her shoulders. Ana sighed in relief and bounded across the room.
Laura stood up from the couch and caught her in a hug. "I've missed you so much," Laura exclaimed.
Ana reiterated the response with a, "Me, too."
They collapsed down beside each other on the couch and immediately began gushing about what they'd miss in each other's lives. Of course, Ana left Jeremy's name out of the equation.
"So, you and Ben are doing well, then?" Laura asked once Ana dubbed and swapped out the aforementioned man's name for her boyfriends. Now, it seemed like she was in a perfectly healthy relationship, one where the partners saw each other everyday and hugged on the side walk.
"Uh," Ana responded, "yeah, I think we are. I don't think I, you know, just yet, but it's definitely going good."
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She was afraid of saying the l word and avoided it.
Laura grinned, "Is this his hoodie?"
Ana looked down at the print on the chest of the jacket she was wearing. It was Jeremy's.
"Yes, it is."
—
The girls ordered take-out from their favorite Chinese place and created a line up of their favorite movies to watch later on that evening. While they awaited their good, Laura gushed about the show she'd been casted in, Bandstand, and her costar, Corey Cott.
"I promise you that when opening night at Papermill Playhouse is dated, you will be given the first ticket." Laura pointed a finger at Ana's chest.
Ana grinned proudly, "I'm so glad I'm your first choice."
Laura laughed and replied, "Of course you are. You're my best friend, Ana."
They moved from topic to topic so swiftly that it was as if they had never been apart for more than a few hours. Even as Ana was standing to pay for their take out, Laura was going on about something or the other.
They quieted down when they started their first movie, but still shared giggles and whispers about the characters and the plot lines as it played.
On their second, Laura suggested they put on face masks and drink some wine. Ana wanted something stronger and made them cocktails in the blender. Ana had completely forgotten all about the fact that she had to work in the morning and focused on having a good time with her best friend.
Because of the mood she'd been in earlier, she wouldn't have admitted to drinking more than half of the blender-made cocktails. But, she did.
By the end of their third movie, Love, Actually, Ana was quietly sobbing within the folds of a fuzzy blanket. Laura was patting her hair gently, reassuring her that she had just had too much to drink.
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Ana, out of her mind, went along with the person she trusted more gravity's words. It was nearly 10 pm when she began she snoring, induced to sleep by her own crying.
Laura wriggled her way out from underneath Ana's dead weight body and crept to her bedroom. She fell asleep, her blood still completely sober- well, buzzed.
Ana woke up with a killer headache and no idea where she was. With squinted eyes, she discovered she was curled up in a ball on the couch, drool pooled at the corner of her mouth. She wiped away at her bottom lip and sat up slowly.
The clock on the television monitor read 3:00 AM. It was the witching hour and all Ana wanted to do was vomit. She was never the type of person who puked after having a hangover, but instead it just made her vision blurry and her body ache.
Ana stumbled into the kitchen, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and carefully poured herself a glass of water. She took it and herself out onto the balcony. The freezing cold air relieved the tension in her shoulders, so she took a seat on the patio furniture.
Ana felt stuck in time.
It was such a familiar phrase to her that she could most likely write a Tony award winning musical about each individual word within it. She was stuck within the stuck-ness of her persona from over 7 months ago.
It was this gross, bland, slow-moving thing. Like a train, when it first takes off. The wheels turning like they're planted in jello, the smoke ghosting through the air in a thrilling dance.
Ana wished she could whip out her arms, scream so loudly so that the birds that sat on the electricity lines outside of her apartment building would flutter away with the autumn leaves.
She wanted to move, to do something with herself.
Ana was so upset by this inability to feel more than content because when graduated college, she thought that moving to New York City would change her life completely. She thought that every day would be an exciting, adventurous day full of smiling exchanges with every New Yorker in site.
She had her dream job, the best friend in the world, an amazing apartment, a boyfriend who would have done anything for her.
And still, her heart was yearning for a tug in the direction towards the apartment across the street from her.
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