Snapping at Crocs

Chapter 7

Wes has left completely from the room to attend to his “small matter” and I eventually turn back around to face Robert. He’s fiddling with a black rectangular object that has cords attached to it. I notice that he seems to be confused. From the looks of it, it's just a mic pack.

I take a step forward to help him, having dealt with mic packs before, but overthinking gets in my way and pins me to the spot I stand. What if he's perfectly fine with them and my offer to help only offends him? He might think I'm suggesting that he's stupid. Besides Robert was rather tired this morning. Maybe he's just getting ready slowly because he didn't get much rest.

But after toying with the idea for a minute, Robert still hasn't put his mic pack on. I take a deep breath and walk towards him. After all, it's better for me to offer help and Robert not need it than for him to need help and have nobody.

I extend my arms out and tap his arm as lightly as possible. Robert looks over his shoulder at me with a bewildered look on his face. Upon seeing me, his expression melts into one that is almost ashamed. He turns away from me and the hands that were previously gripping the mic pack slightly lower toward the table he's in front of.

“Do you need help with that?” I ask, my voice not quite as strong as I would like it to be. “I-I mean not like you don't know how to use it or anything… I just know from experience that it's hard to put a mic pack on by yourself….”

Robert's head hangs down a bit but after a second of silence he turns around to face me. I fight back a yelp as we are suddenly very close to each other. There is a good two feet between us but it's still closer than usual.

Robert holds out the microphone to me like a sad kid who broke his favorite toy. I chuckle and take it away from him, turning completely automatic.

I turn him around and drop the battery box down his shirt, just as I would any guy or girl in my school's drama department. Then I untuck his shirt and clip the mic pack to his pants. After making sure it's secure, I tuck the shirt back in and spin him around to face me. I survey the table absentmindedly to find mic tape but can't seem to find it anywhere.

I turn back to ask Robert if he even has any mic tape when I notice how beet red he is. It only takes me a few seconds to realize what I had done. I had stuck my hands down a basic stranger's shirt and pants. He must be mortified!

“O-oh! I'm so so sorry.” I fiddle with my fingers and tuck my right leg behind my left one. I try to explain myself quickly so he doesn't think I'm a creep for too long. “See, I help out with drama club at my school sometimes so I've put mic packs on people before and I'm so comfortable with everyone there. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable at all and I'm sorry that I did. I'm just so used to doing it that way.”

Robert blinks a few times and I notice that his blush is diminishing. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand before talking.

“It's totally fine Y/N. I needed help, and it was best for you to help me now than for me to wait for Wes and be late. I'm just not used to anybody doing stuff like that.”

I nod, feeling slightly better, and turn back to the table again. Looking for the mic tape helps me keep my brain occupied and away from Robert.

“Robert?” I ask, finally accepting that I won't find it on my own. He hums in response. “Do you have any mic tape?”

He nods and points toward a small bag underneath the table and I crouch down to look through it. Robert hasn't said much to me in the few minutes I've been searching for tape. Naturally, I begin to think that he's creeped out by me. But hey, why should I care? He's only one of my biggest photography idols and also a potential crush.

But now is not the time to think about all of that. I finally find what I was looking for after what seemed like forever of searching. I stand up and turn around to face Robert. Without making eye contact, I position his microphone so it rests on his cheekbone. I flatten out the cord attached to it and tuck the extra bit into his shirt, trying my best to make it discreet so he isn't uncomfortable.

I rip off a piece of the mic tape and use it first to secure the portion of cord on Robert's neck. I then rip off another piece and position it over his cheekbone so the microphone stays in place while he talks.

In the middle of flattening the piece of tape over his face down, a frighteningly loud shriek sounds from the doorway.

“Well, well well!”

Robert jumps backwards from me and I freeze on the spot. Wes is leaning against the doorframe with a large grin on his face. Part of my fear dissipates knowing that it's only Wes. But the fear that is left reminds me that this is Wes.

“So… it looks like you two haven't torn each other apart yet. In fact, it seems like you both get along rather well.”

I fiddle with an obtrusive string hanging off the hem of my shorts. Waiting for Robert to respond seems like the best choice but he apparently doesn't want to say anything either. Though I'm sure we both know Wes can't be the one to talk next. So I pipe up.

“Mr. Mannion, there's nothing to worry about. I was only helping Robert secure his mic.”

Wes's eyebrows crease together and he straightens up, crossing his arms. I scuff my foot against the floor and wait for whatever comes next.

“Ms. L/N it is very clear to me that there is something to worry about here.” Wes takes a pause in his speech and in a second turns from a lecturing football coach into his goofy self again. “You keep referring to me formally. No need for that.”

My body relaxes and I let out a nervous laugh. The relief holds back my small anger towards Wes for the stress he gave me.

“Robert, show's in ten.” Wes motions for Robert to come towards him. “You're needed.”

Robert nods at Wes and turns to face me.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. “For, you know, helping.”

“You're welcome. It was nothing.” I smile at him.

Robert strolls out the door and Wes turns to follow him. It isn't until they have left the room that I notice I’m still firmly clutching the mic tape. I bend down to put it back into Robert's bag.

“Are you coming Y/N?”

I turn at the sound of Wes's voice and zip the bag up tight. Standing up, I brush off any dirt from my knees and speed walk down the hall to catch up.

“Coming!” I call in response

A/N
Hey dudes. I have been gone for two weeks and I am so sorry. I was overwhelmed with school things and I haven't really been writing. In fact, this chapter was written solely in the past few hours. It is only 1238 words but I wanted to get something out there.

Before I go, I would like to thank each and every one of you. The publicity and response to this book is way more than I could ever have hoped for. You guys are so beautiful and sweet.

But, that being said, I did end up deleting the app at one point because of comments/messages adding to my stress. Thank you for loving my book so much to ask for a new chapter, but sometimes the way you ask is discouraging.

(keep in mind that most people are incredibly sweet about it and I don't mind you asking for a new chapter most of the time)

I just wanted to say that if it could be interpreted as harsh, maybe think twice before commenting.

Again, thanks a million. You people are lovely

- write_with_tea 💚