That something was Megan, waving cheerfully as soon as she noticed that I was looking at her."Hey!" she cheerfully whispered, trying not to alert Phil..."Hi." I responded, admittedly less warmly. "How was your weekend?"She shrugged. "Y'know ... I didn't do anything. It was kind of lonely."I never quite knew if Megan, ever since she confessed she liked me, was trying to guilt-trip me, or if she legitimately was a sad person who happened to like me. "Oh," was the only thing I could think to. Iremembered from film school, the people in the screenwriting programlaboring over every word, every comma. Only to find out that someonelike me was reviewing just a five or ten page treatment."Not at all. I'm the aisle," he said, taking what looked like legalpapers out of his bag. He put them on top of mine. "I'll take them offin a second," and then slid his bag under the seat. I noticed that thebag had a Paramount logo on it. I always liked Paramount. The logo, amountain with stars. More

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