Chapter NineKeaton
“This man is like a drug,” the actress says on the big screen. “He’s more than a one-hit wonder. He’s an addiction.”
I cough noisily into my cocktail napkin, stifling a laugh.
Karina, sitting to my left, turns to me with a look of concern. “Are you okay?” she whispers, trying to keep her voice down in the posh movie theater we’ve chosen for our girls’ night out.
Gabby, Karina, and I used to have movie nights when we lived together in college. Back then, it was on a futon, snuggled up with fleece blankets and individual bottles of wine. Now, we try to class it up by heading to theaters like this one with big comfy seats, surround sound, and expensive snacks.
We may have exchanged our bowls of potato chips for made-to-order sushi, but the foundation remains the same.
