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It's Damien's fault for having his phone open in the first place, but Angela has an awful penchant for looking at people's phones if they're within eyesight. "Jesus Christ, dude, just text her."
Damien doesn't look at her as he shuts off his phone and puts it back in his pocket. "Who?" he asks automatically, and regrets it immediately. Angela's not stupid, she knows who Damien isn't texting.
"I'm not stupid," Angela confirms. "Sorry about looking at your phone, by the way. Bad habit. No wonder I get accused of cheating all the time."
"You get accused of cheating all the time because you do cheat all the time." Amanda isn't even looking at the two of them as she talks, scrolling on her own, well-hidden screen. It doesn't matter, Damien already knows what Amanda's looking at. She's researching insane pregnancy craving combinations for a video idea they're planning later this year. Damien got out his phone ostensibly to help, and got immediately distracted.
"Name one time," Angela retorts.
Amanda doesn't answer. "Who is Damien not texting?" she asks instead.
"I'll give you three guesses," Angela says cryptically.
Nodding sagely, it's annoying that Amanda already knows the answer. "Jackie posted about it weeks ago, you still haven't said anything?"
Damien knows Amanda didn't necessarily mean it to shame him, but he feels shamed anyway. "She's busy," he says lamely. It's true, Jackie is busy. Losing your job either means you have all the time in the world or none left, and Jackie is the type of person to fill the void of time she's offered. Damien knows this because he's the opposite, but trying to be better about not falling into pits of depression when work is slower. Not that it's working, currently. He's been in a funk ever since he saw Jackie's posting about Second City falling through; he wants to reach out and give her space simultaneously, and it's resulting in him being totally off kilter ever since.
"We're all busy." Amanda looks up from her phone to stare at Damien for a few off-putting seconds. "What are you so nervous about?"
"I'm done talking about this now."
"But--" Angela tries to speak, but Amanda cuts her off.
"Text her before the end of the day."
"I'm not listening," Damien says with a healthy dose of childish petulance, and it has the intended effect of making Angela and Amanda laugh as Damien walks towards the Games stage
Damien isn't due on the Games stage for another forty minutes, so he knows the room will be mostly empty and no one will bother him if he sits on the sofa and stares at his phone. He assumes he looks contemplative at best, anxious at worst. He could open his camera app and verify how his mood looks outwardly, but he's afraid he'll misunderstand his own expression and overthink his social interactions (more than usual) for the rest of the day.
If he's having a rough time now, he can only assume how much worse Jackie must feel. Amanda is right. He should text her before the end of the day. He should text her right now
Staring at her un-answered message from four months ago, he contemplates their timeline. Days of constant communication interrupted by sporadic bouts of silence, both of the spectrums spurred by their own schedules. They haven't had a phone conversation since she moved away two years ago. The few times he's been to New York, they've never been able to meet and catch up. She never visited California once she left.
The stopping and starting of their brief flirtation weighs as heavily on his mind now as it did a few years ago. Brushing past each other, intense contact, and the heady aura of what-ifs were addictive at the time. It kept Damien interested and circling. When Jackie moved away without either of them speaking the unspoken, Damien assumed his feelings would subside.
They didn't.
He's been in limbo ever since.
If he texts her now, he's not even sure she'll reply.
He starts typing, stops. Starts and stops a few times.
He almost jumps out of his seat when the three dots appear in her text window, but she apparently does not suffer from the same indecision he does because the text comes through immediately. "Fancy seeing you here, stranger."
He laughs. He starts typing a reply, but she double-texts before he can't get anything typed out. "No, I'm not okay. Yes, I eventually will be. It sucks. I miss you. Can I call you?"
Jackie always had a penchant for reading his mind. He calls her. She answers on the first ring.