Lost in November

So… there was a bit of a mix-up.

As the lights went off in the movie theater I ruminated on what events had led up to this moment, sitting next to the person I was now. But to do that, we’ll have to backtrack a little.

Mike Heusser had an extra ticket to the movies. It was to a premiere showing of Lost in November. Everyone in class had read the book. You know the type. One of those romance books but just… better? Not that cheesy shit that made people swoon and pulled on their heartstrings in cheap, cliched ways is what I’m trying to say. It had heart and wasn’t afraid to get messy. One girl in my class uttered this idiotic phrase that the more I think about it, the more I realize it encapsulates the book’s essence. She said, “no matter what month it is, when I’m reading this book, it’s November.”

Why November? It’s the bummer month. There’s no frosty holiday cheer like in December or optimistic new beginnings like in January. It’s not busy like September nor is it relaxing like June. November fits in there with February and April, except April has the added advantage of being Spring, and February is fortunately very short. November, however, is a slog. Despite this, there’s no month I’d rather lose myself in (at least while reading the novel) than November.

That was embarrassingly romantic, I apologize. Point is, this was a BIG deal. Not only was it the movie version of the most popular book in school, but it was also a PREMIERE. That meant whoever went would instantly be the most popular person before the movie released in theaters. They’d be flocked by other students begging the lucky individual to tell them about the movie. I wanted to be that lucky individual.

I’m one of those nerds who pretends like they don’t care about popularity but secretly yearns to be in that spotlight. It’s not because I care about being one of those chicks from mean girls, I just want people to listen to me. I’m funny, I’m quippy, and I’m interesting. If I had a chance to shine, I think I could be the hottest thing in this school since Lost in November.

Where was I again? Oh right, the mix-up. So Mike Heusser had an extra ticket to the premiere, which instantly made him the most popular kid in school. He knew this was his chance to get Sandy Jenkins to go with him.

Sandy Jenkins, for the uninitiated, was the most popular girl in school. She had it all, looks, good taste in just about everything from fashion to music, money, friends, and a damn good voice. She won every talent show and had a penchant for always being the subject of gossip. She was like our school’s own little celebrity. Who she dated, what shoes she wore, things she said, they were all distributed like tabloid articles to the eager masses, hoping to get a glimpse of stardom.

She was going places and we all knew it. So naturally, Mike would want to associate himself with her. Also, considering her and her boyfriend Jeremy Gurk were on a break, he might even have a chance to become her new boy toy.

Sandy, however, was no fool. She knew that Mike would want to bring her, but Mike didn’t have her status, so she couldn’t afford to accept his offer directly. Despite that though she really really really wanted to go to the premiere. So, Sandy informed Mike that she would go if he asked Marissa Hutchins to go instead. Marissa liked Mike, and Sandy knew if she could get them together, Mike would fall for her, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about Mike latching onto her. They would go together and at the last moment before they went in, Marissa would give the ticket to Sandy allowing her to enter the premiere.

Though any diligent reader would know things weren’t going to go that smoothly. I did mention there was a mix-up, after all. You see… I liked Marissa. I didn’t even know if she liked girls, but I just got so giddy whenever I was around her that I couldn’t let an opportunity like this pass me by. I wasn’t informed of this little deal that Marissa and Sandy had, so I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

I had a whole plan ready and everything. I knew that I could get Mike to become unavailable. My mom is a PTA mom. She’s always involved in the school activities, knows all the students by name even though she only knows most of them through their parents, and naturally has a lot of connections. My mom also was an event planner.

She knew that Mike’s mom was getting remarried on Friday, and the premiere was on Saturday. She was also planning the event the next day, Saturday, in the same venue. The Saturday event had some scheduling issues and Mike’s family was free on Saturday. Asking a wedding to switch days within a week’s notice is… sketchy at best, but I convinced my mom that Mike said he and his family were okay with it. Suddenly, Mike couldn’t attend the premiere anymore.

Now came the tricky part. I had to convince Mike to give me that ticket. Fortunately, I got him to make the deal before he even knew it. He needed help with math homework, so I helped him, but I asked him for one of the premiere tickets in return. Though by this point, he had already given the ticket away to Marissa. I told him that if someone should end up canceling and a ticket was available, I would be first in line for it. Not expecting anything to go wrong, he agreed. I could see his reluctance as he gave away the ticket. Poor Mike. He expected everything to go his way, but I’d make it up to him somehow. I heard he loves Rock music and my mom is event planning for a Rock band in a few weeks. I’ll get her to pull a few strings and give him a ticket.

So now, my plan was finally in place! I was going to be sitting right next to Marissa at the premiere! Oh, how naive I was. When I finally got into the theater and saw Sandy sitting in Marissa’s spot, I was flabbergasted.

“What are you doing here?” I inquired.

“What am I doing here?” She parroted, offended, “what are you doing here?”

“I have a ticket,” I answered simply, holding up the aforementioned ticket.

“And so do I,” she held up her own.

I shook my head, “that ticket was supposed to be Marissa’s.”

“And your ticket was supposed to be Mike’s.”

“Mike had a wedding to go to. He was sulking about it the entire day. Oh wait, you aren’t friends with Mark, are you? The bourgeoisie doesn’t associate themselves with the proletariat, my bad.”

“The what?” Sandy blinked, my reference going over her head.

I rolled my eyes, “you’re a snob who doesn’t know about the affairs of students who aren’t kings and queens of popularity, was that clear?”

She gasped, “how dare you!”

“How dare you! You still haven’t explained why you’re in Marissa’s seat!”

“She gave it to me!”

“Why?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“I got this ticket expecting to go to the premiere with Marissa!”

“Well, I got mine expected to go with Mike!”

“It looks like we’re stuck with each other then.”

She gave a snobbish huff and nodded, turning away from me. We glared at each other through the entire trailer previews. I completely forgot what I was mad about when the movie finally started. Some movie adaptations are trash. They’re just a cash grab from the studio to pump out something quick enough so that it’s still relevant. This was not that.

I wish I could say something more eloquent about it, but the closest words can do to describing this movie with justice is that it made me feel like it was November for two hours, twelve minutes, and twenty-six seconds.

Well… fifty-seven minutes and four seconds, at least. See, at that moment, the projector had a bit of a malfunction and we were left waiting in the dark for the lights to come back on.

“Dammit!” cursed Sandy. “What the hell went wrong back there? I have to know what happens!”

“Tell me about it,” I shook my head, “just when things were getting good too.”

She nodded, “right? I mean, they have to be messing with us. The sexual tension in that scene was clearly building to a breaking point when it cut off.”

“I know!” I exclaimed, “it’s infuriating!”

“I hope the movie doesn’t mess things up in the second half.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’m surprised it’s been this good so far. Not that I’m surprised about the quality of Lost in November, it’s amazing, but I thought the studio would mess it up.”

“Saaame! They’re nailing it! It’s different enough from the book, without losing the original essence of it!”

“Tell me about it, this was how they used to do adaptations. Make a movie stand on its own because books adapted without change often don’t work because they’re different mediums, but keep those same notes that people loved about the book!”

She chuckled, “okay cinephile, you had me up to mediums.”

I flushed with embarrassment, mentally thanking the dark for hiding it, “oh, sorry, I guess I got carried away.”

“No no, it’s fine. I’m impressed when people know a lot about something, being around them makes me feel smarter.”

“Really? Because it seems like you mostly hang out with other ditzy popular girls.”

Her smile began to shift to a glare, “what do you know about them? Have you ever tried talking to them? Getting to know them? Or do you just sit at your little geeks’ table and laugh at the rest of the world for taking themselves seriously?”

“No, I haven’t. But it’s not like I’ve ever been allowed to talk to someone of your station under normal circumstances.”

“Then who are you to judge?”

“Look, I get it. It’s a game and you’ve found a way to win, good for you. But in twenty years-”

“You’ll have a great career and I’ll be a has-been. Is that what you were going to say? You think I haven’t heard that, smart girl? I know I’m not as smart as you, but I’m good at singing, and people like listening. So I may not be every parent’s dream or be the teacher’s pet, but I’m putting myself out there. Do you have any dreams? Or did that cynical mind of yours kill any budding dream before it had the chance to bloom?”

I would say that I was impressed with Sandy’s dream metaphor, but then I remembered the same metaphor was used in Lost in November. I sighed, “you’re right. I may have judged you too harshly. But only because it doesn’t seem fair! I want to have a good future and a good present. I look at you and think, ‘damn, I wish that were me,’ I wish I were that popular, I wish I could date anyone I wanted, I wish people laughed at my jokes.”

She stared at me for a moment, a look of confusion on her face, “you’re jealous of me?”

I rolled my eyes, “look, forget it. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Now you’re just going to rub it in my face.”

“No… look, I get it. Wanting to be someone you can’t be, that is. I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re not a cliched cynical nerd with no dreams.”

“Thanks…”

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For having Marissa give me her ticket.”

I shrugged, “it’s whatever, it was a stupid plan anyway.”

She blinked, “plan?”

I pathetically attempted to cover it up, “I um… I mean, it was a dumb thing to get mad about. I don’t know why I said that…”

A smirky smile curved onto her face, “you’re blushing!”

“N-no I’m not. Besides, it’s dark, you can’t even see what color my face is.”

“Oh, I know a blush when I see one. You like her, don’t you?”

“Please stop it.”

“I’m right, aren’t I? You were going to use this opportunity to get her alone with you!”

“Shut up!”

“Oh my gosh, you little rascal! Good choice, by the way, Marissa’s a cutie.”

“She really is.” I sighed, “but she’d never fall for me. She’s way out of my league.”

“Perhaps we can change that,” she grinned.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well… maybe I can let you hang out with my group every once and a while, give you a chance to get to know Marissa better.”

“Y-you’d do that?”

She shrugged, “you got into the premiere, you’ll be the second most popular girl in school next week anyway. I have one condition, though.”

“Name it.”

“We make this a regular thing.”

“Make what a regular thing?”

“This! Doing stuff together. Around the popular girls, sometimes I feel… fake. But with you, I feel like myself, if that makes sense. I want to feel that way more often.”

“I understand that feeling,” I smiled, “I’d be more than happy to make this a regular thing.”

The rest of the movie was wonderful, but I’m surprised to say that the best part of that day wasn’t Lost in November,but making a new friend.

Thank goodness for that mix-up.