Angela and 'Henry' left forty five minutes into the movie. She was getting tired and wanted to go home. We said our goodbyes, and waved at them until they turned their backs.
     "Remind me why we hang out with someone so much older than us?" Kirsten cracked open a can of cheap beer she fished out of her cooler. She passed me a bottle of water.
     "I don't mind," shrugged Em, "I just don't remember exactly how our friendship started. I know she and her husband were new in the neighborhood, but she never so much as glanced at us until he passed."
     "I got roped in because of you two," Kirsten remarked, "she's a good cook though. I really do like her dinner parties."
     "Oh, I had forgotten that your brother was in town, Finn. Why didn't he come to the movie?" I asked.
     "He was on a twelve hour layover. He got on his connecting flight earlier this afternoon," he explained.
     "I was fooled into thinking he was visiting longer," Em scowled at him playfully.
     "I'm sorry you didn't get more time with Henry," Kirsten winked at me.
     "I've heard he'd rather be called Mark," snickered Em.
     "And unlike you I had no idea his call number was 'M'." I replied.
     "I'm sure now that he's found his BFF again he's going to come over a lot. I'll keep you in the loop." Kirsten crushed her empty beer can.
     "Thank god. Plotting to get those two together is really exhausting to do solo," Em replied.
     "It's literally like a teenager sneaking out of his mom's house to see the girl he likes. It's endearing in a cringey kind of way," laughed Kirsten.
     "I did that a lot as a teenager, actually," admitted Em, "it always felt so romantic."
    "She snuck away from her family's Thanksgiving once to pick me up at the airport. They didn't even notice she was gone until we'd already made it back to her house," Finn said, "it was before she told them we were dating."
     I chuckled, staring intently at the movie, yet at the same time barely paying attention to it. Jin-young and Kirsten were cozy, Em and Finn were a perfect pair. I always tried to seem invincible, but when around other couples I had to force myself to admit that while being single had it's advantages, my occasional loneliness was painful.
     "You miss him already, it's all over your face," Kirsten muttered to me.
     "What's there to miss? It's not like he can ever be with me on his own terms," I brushed a bug off my leg, staring at my toes.
     We all loved the movie, and parted ways with heavy yawns. Driving home would be a task; it was late and I was more than ready to scrub off my makeup and fall into my pillow face first. My body tingled every time I thought of pulling the blankets up to my neck and slipping into my dreams.
     I made the first turn away from the park, Kirsten's car fading from view behind me, as she turned the opposite direction. Em's was somewhere three cars ahead of me in the line of egress making its way lazily away from the park.
     Somehow, after all the food Em brought for me, I was already starving. My stomach let out a low grumble, and I immediately began to take mental stock of my fridge and pantry. My leftovers were ancient, but I did have a few frozen dinners. I could always stop and get some fried chicken or pizza, I knew a few places that were open late.
     My mind was wandering lazily through all of my options for food, then suddenly changed direction. I thought about 'Henry' alone in his room at Angela's, the sheets wrapped around his feet. I imagined him curled into a fetal position, eyes closed and praying for sleep. What did it feel like to be trapped with someone you didn't love, or even really like? To feel the pressure of their expectations, like walls closing in with no escape in sight? It made my heart feel heavy and bloated.

     I slowed up as I neared my house. My peripheral vision caught movement on the sidewalk as I pressed my garage opener, and my eyes immediately snapped to that direction. There was someone walking toward me, in a black hoodie and gym shorts. My heart quickened, I stopped the car and locked the doors.
     The figure looked up from watching his feet and waved at me, breaking into a jog. My eyes wide, I debated making a scene and honking my horn, or closing my garage and speeding off. My hands were shaking.
     A wash of relief flooded me from head to toe when I recognized the stranger as 'Henry'. I rolled my window down as he reached the side of my car.
     "What the hell are you doing? Trying to scare me half to death?"
     "Sorry, I thought you knew it was me."
     I did not, in fact, know it was him. My vision was not the best at night, something I hardly ever admitted because I didn't need anyone worrying about me. "I couldn't tell it was you from that far away. Hold on a minute and let me pull into the garage."
     I parked and grabbed my chicken before motioning for him to come inside. I closed the garage and we slipped into my house.
     "Fried chicken, really? After the massive amount of food Em fed you?" he laughed.
     "My stomach started growling on the way home, and it was either this, pizza, or a frozen pot pie. I chose the fried chicken."
     I pulled out two plates and we sat at the kitchen table. We wordlessly descended on the bucket of fried chicken.
     "Why are you out so late?" I asked, pulling my side of mac and cheese out of the bag.
     "Angela went to bed as soon as we got home. I couldn't sleep, so I came out for a walk. I thought you guys had already come home. I can't believe my luck, the most perfect of timing: you and fried chicken."
     I passed a side of mashed potatoes his way. "I really don't know what made me order this much food. I wasn't thinking clearly."
     "I think we can handle this," he reached for another piece of chicken.
     "Why couldn't you sleep?"
     "I kept thinking about how disappointing it was that we left before the movie was over. I didn't talk to Jin-young as much as I wanted to, I've missed him a lot."
     "Well, the movie ending was what you'd expect, she ditches the greasy rich guy and marries the book-loving farmer."
     "It was a rather romantic movie choice for a family movie night, don't you think?"
     "To a point I agree with you. It wasn't the first time I saw that movie, though. I watched it when it first came out. I remember it as having a lasting effect on me."
     "How so?"
     "It made me reflect on how little I have been reading since I finished my degree. Well, apart from the things I edit. Books have always been an obsession of mine, I would be engrossed for days. But they took a back seat somewhere around the time my parents died," I bit my lower lip and decided it was a good idea to stop there. 
     "What books did you read?"
     "I've been a fan of Jane Austen since high school. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Oscar Wilde are also dear to my heart," I started on another piece of chicken, "I was never able to leave a book unfinished, even the ones I detested, like The Great Gatsby and Frankenstein."
     He twitched out of nowhere, like a lightbulb lit up in his brain, one he had no idea was screwed in, "I didn't like The Great Gatsby either. I laughed when Fitzgerald described the obscene amount of citrus fruits juiced at Gatsby's house. It wasn't until later that I realized it was just one of the many ways he spelled out how rich Gatsby was." It seemed his mouth was moving of it's own accord. His eyes were wide, and he was avoiding looking at me. He put down the drumstick he was eating, blinking hard.
     "What's with the face?"
     "I've never read The Great Gatsby."