Page 59 of The Bodyguard Affair
By the end of class, I find out about the new guy she’s hanging out with, Geo. They met on Hinge and she has a theory he’s lying to her about his career.
“He says he’s a pilot,” she tells me. “But his friend told me he actually works at the Booster Juice in the airport.”
“That’s…a really odd thing to lie about. Like…you could find out really easily.”
She shrugs, like it doesn’t matter to her. And it probably doesn’t. “I figure he’ll tell me when he’s ready to. Hey, by theway, did I tell you I’m probably heading to BC with Hannah in the fall?”
“The girl who used to live in a storage space?” I confirm. Amanda has so many friends of all varieties, it’s hard to keep track. Whenever I talk to her, I’m reminded how remarkably boring my life is in comparison. We get together around once a month, and every time, she has new friends, probably a new gig, and a new place to live. She’s always in motion. Meanwhile, I’ve had the same apartment, job, and general routine for over three years.
She nods. “Yup. She has a really nice studio off Rideau I was going to move into, but it might have roaches and a poltergeist, so we decided to break the lease and go to BC for a couple months.”
“BC, interesting,” I say.
“I’ve actually been talking to Dad about it,” she says nonchalantly.
“You have?” I haven’t talked to him in a while, though he does text me every so often with funny anecdotes and dad jokes he thinks I’ll like.
“Yeah. He’s living in the Interior right now. I was thinking of seeing if I could stay with him for a few days. We haven’t seen him in, what, almost two years?”
“At least,” I say. It makes me sad that it’s been that long.
Her posture stiffens. “You won’t tell Mom, right?”
“Why would I tell Mom, of all people?” In fact, I’ve been dodging her uncharacteristically frequent calls the last few weeks. She leaves long-winded voicemails every time someone new (of societal importance) asks whether I’m a mistress orwhether I wroteThePrime Minister & Me. The latter of which is somehow worse in her mind.
“I don’t know. You talk to her more than I do. She came to visit you at Thanksgiving.”
I snort. We used to be closer before she remarried, before I moved to Ottawa, back when I was desperate for her approval. “Yeah, she came for, like, an hour. She complained the entire time about the homeless people outside my apartment. Went on a tirade about how one person was wearing a Columbia coat that looked expensive. Because apparently you must wear rags as a poor person. She basically threatened not to visit until I move.”
Amanda frowns. “God. She really is delusional, isn’t she? I told you. She completely forgot that used to be us. Erased it from her memory entirely.”
“I think it’s the opposite. She remembers it so much, she’s desperate to put herself as far away from it as possible.”
“It’s kind of sad, really,” she decides. “Imagine being so insecure that all you care about is what people think.”
I work down a swallow. “Really sad,” I agree, even though I understand it a little more than I’d like.
Chapter 25
Nolan
Who knew an animated movie for children could be so depressing?
Andi texted me her list of top five saddest movies while we were at the game the other night. I started withThe Land Before Time. I don’t normally watch a lot of movies. I tend to fidget, unable to let my mind rest and escape. It’s a symptom of the job, being on guard, assessing, watching for danger. It’s my default state. But this one held my attention, maybe because it’s designed for kids with an equivalent attention span, or maybe I’m just desperate for something to talk to Andi about. Either way.
Based on the cover and description, I didn’t think much of it. I was wrong.
Nolan:Watched land before time.
I stare at the screen, waiting for a reply. She takes forever to text back. And by forever, I mean half an hour. It might as well be an eternity.
Andi:And?
Nolan:Still not crying, but pretty damn close.
Andi:Haha. You should move on to #4. I have a feeling that one might spark something.
Fourth on her list is a ’90s movie calledStepmom. I consider asking her to watch it together. Then again, I don’t know if I can handle another sad movie. Not after what happened yesterday.
