"Donna!"
Sigh. What now?
"Yes, Josh?"
"Are you ready?"
How does "hell, no" sound? "I guess."
"Okay, let's go." He's been more enthused about getting teeth
pulled. Well, misery can only have company, not twins, so..
"Josh, why don't you go home?"
The Harvard graduate is speechless. In fact, I think he looks more
like a deer caught in the headlights. "Why? Do you want to go home?"
"Yes, if you're going to be bad company."
"That's pretty rude."
This deserves a rolling of the eyes. "Well, it's true. You're being
Mr. Miserable. The `happy' in "happy new year" is not just there for
syllables."
Donna Moss, you are a hypocrite.
"Donna Moss, you are a hypocrite."
Wait, was that an echo? "What are you talking about?" I replied
defensively.
"You're telling me to be festive when you're brooding yourself."
Since when did they teach mind reading in Harvard?
"I am not brooding." Nice comeback, Donna. Why don't you just bring
him coffee while you're at it?
"Yes, you are. You were probably at the restroom, brainstorming for
some escape plan."
Maybe Margaret's crazy theories about the Secret Service installing
cameras in the restrooms weren't so crazy after all.
"You were," he says accusingly.
I might as well give up.
Not before I get in the last word. "It's better than getting stuck
in a New Year's party with another brooder, Joshua. Why brood here
when I can brood at home alone by myself without anyone else out-
brooding me?"
"Out-brooding?"
Jeez! Must he be so irritating? "You know what I am talking about."
"I said once, and I'll say it again. Hardly ever." Maybe if you
would listen once in a while..
"And you call yourself a Fulbright scholar?"
"You're digressing. Why are you so miserable about this whole New
Year thing? It's like you're depressed or something."
This man really needs to get a clue. And more spontaneity while he's
out shopping.
"I am a love recluse, Josh. Didn't you listen to me when I explained
to you as to why I would rather not be here? Also, don't use your
situation in this case. Not that I don't doubt that you have already
tried by attempting to get Stanley to bail you out."
The deer in the headlights look again. I got you, Josh Lyman.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
"Before I ask about the love recluse business, how did you know about
the Stanley thing?"
"Because you tried to pull the same stunt for CJ's party."
Definitely more spontaneity.
"Oh."
"Yes, so are you going to this party or not, Josh? I could still
catch Dick Clark on TV if I leave now." Please say you're leaving.
Please say it.
"I'm staying."
What? Are you crazy? "Okay." I look at my watch. Ten-
thirty. Less than two hours until midnight. That's ninety minutes.
Ninety long minutes.
"Donna?"
"Yeah?" I turn to him.
He's smiling. I think he's trying to not look so brooding. Sweet.
It's not working, but it's sweet.
"You ready to go?"
"Whenever you are." He offers me an arm. I hesitate before I
finally slip my arm through. He leads us out of the pen into the
empty halls of the West Wing.
To my impending doom. Oh, god.