mistake.”
I stared at that bathroom. I just wanted to go in and have one less thing to worry about already.
The guard took off her covered helmet, revealing a surly woman wearing a lot of makeup. She shrugged. “Your point being?”
I handed her the bracelet. “May we please be green?” I asked. “And may I use your facilities?”
She snorted. “Y’all out of luck,” she said. “Move along.”
She waved us away before I thought of something. “Wait!” I said. I reached into my bag and pulled out Debra’s bottle of nail polish. “It’s the hottest color this fall.”
She pointed at it, her eyes wide. “Where’d you get that?”
I shook my head. “Does it matter? I’d be willing to part with it for a place in the green group.”
She snatched the bottle and my yellow bracelet out of my hands. “Get over to the distribution line. Tell them Donna sent you.”
“Thank you!” I said, pulling a bewildered Bruce along.
“What was that about?” he asked.
“You heard the woman,” I said. “Doesn’t matter.”
We went up to the distribution line that was moving forward and then someone handed me a green bracelet and one to Bruce.
“Weren’t you and your sister registered in yellow?” the man in the hazmat suit asked Bruce.
“Donna sent me,” he said.
“We’re not brother and sister.” I said. “We don’t look that much alike.”
“Do we?” he murmured.
Bruce and I nodded simultaneously. Just in case. They pushed us along, and Bruce stared wistfully at the other groups.
“Maybe we should aim for the blue group,” he said.
Debra came up behind us, out of breath. “Whatever you do , do not go into the bathroom set aside for the yellows. There’s no toilet paper, and I had to impale someone’s foot with my heel just to use the sink to wash my hands.”
“Noted,” I said, uncomfortably switching my weight between feet.
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“Getting our green bracelets,” I said.
She made a face. “Ew, do you know who’s a yellow?”
We caught a familiar sight no more than ten feet away from us. Steve Harks, an A-list celebrity seen in movies where things exploded. The only reason I remembered Steve’s name was because as soon as Bruce saw him he whispered madly, “Steve Harks. Steve Harks, Steve Harks.”
I’ll say this—even with a week of hardship and whatever misfortunate circumstances—the man was drop-dead gorgeous. My jaw dropped a little as I tried hard not to stare. Debra, on the other hand, made no secret about it. She looked like a fourteen year old, eyes wide and shining. She jabbed me with her chipped and polished fingernail and heavy cocktail ring. I turned to her.
“Should I go introduce myself?” she asked. “This is how people come together, meet and fall in love, right?”
“Can’t hurt,” I said. “Who knows where we’ll be tomorrow.”
“Oh, my god,” she said, fanning herself with her hand. “What do I even say?”
“You could say hello,” I said. “Or tell him about how you were in high school when he was born.”
She covered her mouth. “I really liked him in that one thing,” she said. “The one where he played that guy…what’s it called? You know the one. He wore a suit.”
I turned to Bruce, thinking for some reason that he would find Debra just as amusing as I did. But he gawked just as hard at Steve Harks as she did.
“You okay?” I asked.
“That’s Steve Harks.”
“That’s what I keep hearing from the two of you,” I said. “Stars! They’re just like us.”
“Do you think I should tell him about my play?” Bruce asked.
“The one that’s been cancelled indefinitely,” I said. “Can’t hurt.”
“I’ll bet he could help me out. Think of the networking I could be accomplishing.”
“I doubt he’ll come to your play.”
He broke his gaze with Steve and looked at me, hurt puppy eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“Sorry. I just thought you were joking.”
“Why would