Right Place, Wrong Time

5. Playing the Part

In what seemed like no time at all, Joey's first UProd performance arrived. He knew plenty of people that were going to be in the audience, but there was one he kept thinking about, and she was the reason he was feeling nervous. Shocking, considering he had to be naked on stage in front of friends he'd only known a few weeks. It wasn't even that part that he was worried about Lauren seeing — though perhaps he should have been — because in the little time he'd known her she'd never held back on honesty, but always without judgement. He just felt a need to impress her.

He thought about texting her as he sat in the dressing room moments before curtain; he'd found her note by chance, when it slipped out of his textbook as he dumped it haphazardly onto the desk in his room, and saved her number in his phone without yet building up the courage to text her, even though she'd left it there for a reason. But if she was in the audience, she might already have her phone switched off, so he decided against it.

Though he told himself he wouldn't, he looked for her when he was onstage. But she must have been true to her word and stayed in the back, because while he saw many unfamiliar faces and many more familiar ones, hers wasn't among them. Or it was possible she hadn't showed after all.

In the hallway after the show though, there she was, a tiny blonde girl among the crowds, searching hopefully for him.

"You made it!" he said, wanting to hug her so relieved when she hugged him first.

"Of course I did. You were so good!" she cried.

"Really?"

"Definitely a visual I'll never forget," she said, and he could see her trying not to giggle. He felt as though he'd walked into a blazing building, so much did his face heat up thinking about her thinking about him like that.

"Thanks, Lauren," he said drily, and she took pity on him.

"Really, though. It was mean of them to make you do that, but you still killed it."

"Thank you," he said, genuinely this time.

They kept talking about the show, occasionally joined by other friends or cast members for a few minutes, or a passing pat on the back in congratulations. Soon the corridor had emptied considerably and only a scattering of people remained, family members getting in last words before making the journey home, friends from other departments catching up for the first time this semester. Joey noticed Lauren take stock of those remaining.

"Did you come with someone?" he asked.

"Darren," she said. "I guess he left, though."

Joey tamped down the anger he felt at her being left behind, knowing it wasn't his job to play protective. He touched her arm lightly, fingertips barely connecting with skin. "Want me to walk you home? It's dark out."

She smiled. "I'm used to walking around campus by myself. And your dorm is nowhere near me."

"Still, I'll worry otherwise."

She pondered it for a moment more, then nodded. "Okay. Thank you."

"No worries. Let me grab my jacket."

He ran back to the dressing room to get it before rejoining her, holding the door open for her to go out into the night. Pulling the jacket on, he wished he had a thicker one, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. They were already heading steadily towards winter, and the sun's warmth was long gone. Lauren, too, shivered in her own jacket, rubbing her palms together.

"My hands are freezing," she grumbled.

"Put them in your pockets," he advised, indicating his own hands.

She turned to him with a face like he'd suggested murdering a puppy instead. "Joey, I don't have pockets. Women don't need them, apparently. See these zippers? Decorative. Who the fuck thought that was a good idea?"

"Okay, okay, consider me educated," he said, and reached for her hands. "Give them here."

He took them between his, feeling how cold they were and letting his body heat warm them up. She exhaled gratefully, the silver of her breath unfurling into the air.

"Better?" he asked.

"Thanks."

They walked a few paces more like that, him stroking her hands to help the heat permeate into them.

"Your hands are tiny," he said, thinking out loud.

"Your hands are big," she retorted. She forced his hand straight, her palm pressed against it, fitting easily inside his, his fingers extending way beyond hers.

"This isn't proving anything," he said.

She laughed. "I guess not." She pulled her hands away and just like that he missed the feel of them in his. "But your hands are bigger than Darren's."

Their steps had been so in sync up to that point that her falter was all the more obvious.

"I don't know why I said that," she recovered herself. "Sorry."

"This doesn't have to be weird," he said. "It doesn't bother me that you're with Darren."

"I know it doesn't. Why would it?"

There was a defensive edge to her voice, so Joey let himself think for a second before answering. "It wouldn't," he said calmly. "It doesn't. Obviously it doesn't involve me. I just wanted to tell you you're allowed to say his name in front of me. He's my friend. And you're my friend."

Some of the tension left her. "Yeah. Sorry. I wasn't trying to make it weird."

And in a strange way, the awkwardness at least relieved him of the worry that what he sensed between them was all in his own head.

They reached her house, and he went as far as the doorstep with her.

"Thanks for walking me home," she said.

"No problem. I'll see you," he said, expecting her to open the door and go in.

Instead, she spoke, reaching out to touch his wrist, her fingertips sending sparks through him. "Will you... text me when you get home? It wouldn't be the first time you've gotten lost," she said, with a smile that looked like it was covering up for something else. "You did get my number, right?"

"I did," he smiled. "I can do that."

"Okay," she said, settled.

"Have a good night, Lauren."

"You too."

She did open the door then, and gave him one last smile before closing it behind her. He set off for his dorm, feeling a strange urge to check the streets for sign of Darren wanting to know why he'd walked his girlfriend home. A guilty conscience. He wanted to make sure she got there safely; he'd have done it for anyone who needed it. The entire way home, though, he couldn't help wondering what anyone watching would have made of the pair.