Love Letters Anonymous by Adriana Peck

Author:Adriana Peck [Peck, Adriana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-18T16:00:00+00:00

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We lurch our way back to the Multipurpose Center, and Darren and I scope out a solid-looking romantic movie to feast our eyes on. We walk past poster after poster, making the best selection that we can with all the options available.

One poster has two mainstream actors that I recognize. Their arms are crossed, they stand back-to-back as they smirk at the camera against a solid-white background. The title, Aflutter, is written in fluffy cursive text above the actor’s faces. I tug on Darren’s sleeve just as he’s about to pass me.

“What do you make of this one?” I ask him.

Darren nods. “It looks cheesier than…”

“…the biggest plate of nachos in the world, I know. Let’s go in,” I say.

We duck into the theater, finding our way to a pair of open seats. We don’t have to look for long, I can count about six other people in this theater besides us. This room can easily seat a hundred.

We’re just on time, the movie’s only just beginning. One of the actors, the man, works in a cubicle, pushing pencils and papers day-in and day-out. He bumps into the female lead fifteen minutes in as he’s rounding a corner in his office, and surprise, surprise, they hate each other instantly. This goes back and forth for a while until the two leads are forced to work together on a late-night project, where they promptly fall head-over-heels for one another.

Honestly, I think the movie is cliché as sin, but that doesn’t stop me from growing invested in the drama that unfolds over the course of ninety minutes. Darren and I look back and forth between one another and the movie screen, and I can tell he’s enjoying Aflutter as much as I am.

During the emotional climax of the movie, when the man admits to his woman that he’s wrong and that he’s always been in love with her as they stand outside in the pouring rain, I can feel Darren’s hand inching closer to mine. When the couple breaks up, I can’t help but be reminded of Darren and I’s falling out back in college. The hurt is all too relatable, even when I’m the one who did the dumping. It kinda stings a little, watching this with him. But by the time the couple’s made up and are kissing, our fingers are interlocked.

Our hands remain clasped to one another until the movie’s end credits finally roll, and the lights come on. As Darren and I stand up to leave, our hands still gripped tight, a microphone spits feedback over the speakers overhead.

“Hello, and thank you all for coming,” a voice says. “We will now host a short question and answer session with the writer and director, Janey Finn.”

An older woman dressed in a button-down formal shirt and a dinner jacket, in her mid-forties with grey hair takes the stage and waves at us. Darren and I sit back down, along with half of the other attendees who stuck around to the credits.

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