Invisible as Air by Zoe Fishman

Author:Zoe Fishman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Teddy

Teddy got off the elevator and made his way to the TV room, pretending as though he knew exactly what he was doing. The hallway smelled of burnt popcorn, gardenias and everything bagels. A heady mix, to be sure.

As he walked past Apartment 404, the door creaked open, giving him the distinct sensation that someone had been watching for him through the peephole.

“Early bird catches the worm. I like your style, kid,” said Morty, shuffling toward Teddy in the same plastic slides and black socks pulled up to the middle of his hairless, white shins.

“Well, I wanted to set up first, you know,” said Teddy. “Have you seen Jackie, by any chance?” He slowed his pace to match Morty’s.

“Jackie? She’s long gone. Busy lady. She’s almost always out of here by five. But she left me in charge, so don’t worry, you’re in good hands,” he said as they entered the room together.

Six people surrounded an enormous bowl of popcorn on a table by the window, pecking at it like birds. Liter bottles of soda stood beside it, along with a sleeve of clear plastic cups. So much for being early, thought Teddy.

“People, our very own Siskel is here, may he rest in peace,” Morty announced.

Teddy’s underarms began to sweat profusely despite the room’s air-conditioned frostiness. He didn’t want to fail at something he cared about so much. He had mentioned as much to his mother on the way over, and she had said, not unkindly, But what could fail?

“But what if they don’t agree with my opinion?” he had asked.

“So they don’t agree,” said his mom. “Then you have a discussion and you get to defend your perspective. And you have a solid perspective. I assume you’ve picked movies you love, so it’s great practice for you. Arguing your point when you’re actually informed is a natural high. And anyway, Teddy, these old-timers aren’t going to come for you.” She turned into the driveway of Twilight Manor. “Well, I take that back. Some might. But it’ll be good for you, I promise. Just make sure they’re fed.”

Teddy eyed the bowl of popcorn now. A few stray unpopped kernels littered the bottom. The group stood before him and Morty, shoveling popcorn from their respective cups into their mouths. They reminded Teddy of a coterie of prairie dogs in the wild.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Teddy. Thank you for coming tonight.”

“Welcome,” trilled a woman whose white hair hugged her scalp like a glove. “I’m Beverly,” she added, in a Southern accent as thick as peanut butter. She walked forward and extended a slender hand, her nails a bright red. Her black sweatshirt read #timesup in a bold white font. “Beverly Marlowe,” she added, her brown eyes inquisitive behind thick turquoise-framed glasses. She was the coolest old person Teddy had ever seen.

“Morty says you’re quite the movie buff,” proclaimed another woman, this one in head-to-toe seafoam silk: pajamas, robe and slippers.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Teddy, “but I do love movies. And tonight, I brought a classic: Back to the Future.

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