Playing Along by Rory Samantha Green Page A

Tim gives his friend a hug.
    “This was a blast, Lex. I’ll get your number from Tim,” says Bradley, leaning awkwardly forward to kiss her on the cheek. “We’ll hook up.”
    More likely I’ll hang up
, thinks Lexi. “You do that!” she says with a nervous smile, shutting the door a little too quickly, leaving Bradley on the curb, tipped forward, looking for love in all the wrong places.
    “Drive,” she orders Tim through gritted teeth.
    “Well that was—”
    “Dreadful,” says Meg before Tim can finish. “That was dreadful. What were you thinking?”
    “You told me to find someone to—”
    “You’re blaming me now? Blaming me for setting my best friend up with Mr. Neanderthal Frat Guy, who scarily seems to believe you two were separated at birth!”
    “Come on, Meg. He’s not that bad.”
    “Not that bad, Tim? He threw the food. He showed Lexi his—” Lexi’s head is beginning to pound. She wishes she could get out and walk the rest of the way. She feels like the sides of the car are closing in on her.
    “STOP!” she yells from the back seat. “Don’t say another word until you drop me home. Not a word.”

GEORGE
17 th November, 2009
Melrose Ave, Los Angeles
    Even on Melrose, home of the trendiest shops and restaurants, the streets are relatively quiet. George is accustomed to bustling cities that gain a vibrant momentum after dark. In contrast, LA appears to empty out, allowing only for movement between cars and doorways, dutiful valet parkers clocking up miles in strangers’ cars. George imagines what it might feel like for those guys, settling into the indent of the driver’s seat, still faintly warm from the owner’s body. Maybe he’ll write a song about it.
    He’s been walking for twenty minutes and has only seen three other pedestrians. He remembers as a child making up stories about people he saw on the streets when he walked to church with his parents on a Sunday. He abhorred the constricting tie his mother insisted he wore and the way his father snapped at him for lagging behind.
    “Hurry up, George, or you’ll make us late. Are you daydreaming again?” And he usually was. Dreaming about what life was like in another family. Dreaming about the girl across the road with the brown riding boots and if she liked chocolate sprinkles on her ice cream or preferred it plain. His imagination was always roaming some unexamined landscape. Somehow, despite Polly’s incessant histrionics, George constantly felt like everything that went wrong in their family was attributed solely to him.

LEXI
November 18 th , 2009
West Hollywood
    “I have your approval to divorce him, right?” Meg is clearly trying to blame Tim for the whole date debacle. It’s the morning after and she has rung first thing while Lexi is making tea and an English muffin before work.
    Lexi is well aware of Meg’s propensity to dodge accountability. She simply hates owning up to a mistake and would choose to hop around on hot sand for an hour, rather than shelter in the shade of a tree and admit defeat.
    “You can’t get away with blaming it all on Tim,” says Lexi, contemplating the sorry sight of her soggy teabag and wondering if Meg will concede anything.
    “Yes, I can. He told me the new guy at his office was perfect for you.”
    “How would he know?”
    “Well—he said he was tall and funny and—”
    “Did he really say funny? Are you sure he didn’t say ’hilarious’? And did he happen to mention that he was horny, because he’s just moved here and gagging to get some action? And so
you
think to yourself—I know—Lexi, my best friend the charity case, who cares if I’ve never met the guy. He’ll do. She’s desperate too.”
    “Please, Lex. It wasn’t like that—I promise. Tim just led me astray. He knows I worry about you. He thought you guys would hit it off. I trusted him. It was his fault—not mine.”
    “Not yours? Not even a tiny bit yours, Meg? Look, I know you mean well but just at