this moment, the sheer terror of getting on the stage and finishing out this year is more important than

Riz taking off. I can’t be angry when I’m this scared.

He knows it, too. Anyone that looked at me right now would know it. And I think he’s going to say

something about doing some breathing or some other shit that they teach us in classes, but he doesn’t.

He comes over to me, standing close, and he puts his hand on my shoulder. And in a low voice, he says

one thing.

“Horatio…”

And I don’t know why, but it grounds me. It takes away the part of me that’s making my hands sweat

and my stomach clench. I close my eyes and take a breath, smelling the dusty makeup scent of

backstage laid over that scent that my brain recognizes as Rizzo. And when I open my eyes again,

Rizzo’s still there, Hamlet behind his eyes, smiling at me. I smile too and reach a hand up to lay over

his. I can be mad at him again later.

“The same, my lord, and your poor servant always.”

***

When the final curtain goes down about 3 hours later, we get a standing ovation, and not a single person

is left in their seat.

The post-show rush hits fast and intense once the curtain’s down, with people hugging each other

and congratulating each other on a good opening night. All the little glitches that Jeff will have us

working on in the days to come are forgotten in the high of a job well-done.

Backstage, it seems that the number of people that should be there has grown almost exponentially.

I’m certain that there’s people back there that shouldn’t be - friends and family - but no one’s getting

kicked out, so I just smile at everyone that congratulates me, no matter if I recognize them or not.

There is one familiar face though, Mac is somehow backstage and grinning his bright smile at me as

people jostle around us. He throws a quick glance around, like he’s expecting someone to call him out

for being backstage, and smiles at me again when he realizes no one’s going to. “Good show!” He

nearly has to shout to be heard over the other commotion, and I lean in to hear him better, but before I

can get close, he lifts his hand to hold out a cheap bouquet of daisies to me.

It takes me too long to register that they’re for me. But I reach out to take them, and Mac gives me a

wide, bright grin.

Maybe he could give Riz a run for his money in the smile department.

Chapter 15

Long Way Home

DANNY: It’s early evening and the sun hangs low in the sky when Nick and I leave the theater

department together. There’s no performance tonight, but Jeff made us go over some of our scenes

again. It’s not unusual. A show’s never really finished. It grows and evolves from performance to

performance. My mind is still with Hamlet, and Nick’s quiet too as we walk along towards the dorms.

He hasn’t really been talking to me since I told him that I’m going with James. We pretend nothing’s

wrong backstage, polite to each other in a way we normally never would be. Jeff has noticed that

something’s off in our chemistry. Hence the run-through.

“So, you and Mac, huh?” I finally break the silence.

Nick blinks, then he gives me a wary look. “Mac and I what?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Keller and Sam “the Mac” McKenna, goalie of our soccer team and

acclaimed school hero. Now that’s an odd couple if there ever was one. I arch an eyebrow. “You seem to

hang out a lot.”

“None of your business.” He scowls over at me, shaking his head. “Because there’s nothing going

on.”

I shrug and grin. “Shame. He likes you.”

“Will you stop it already,” he groans, actually blushing for once. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“Trust me on this. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Nick gives me a death glare, and I punch him lightly on the shoulder, just because. He punches me

back and we let the pretend-fight continue a little. He looks away to hide an unwilling smile. It suddenly

hits me that I’m gonna miss him. I never really thought about what graduating would mean for our

friendship. Let alone moving to another continent. I hate the thought of leaving him on his own again.

So here’s hoping Mac will get over his supposed (but doubtful) straight self and provide some sexy

distraction in my absence.

“Promise you’ll come to visit,” I say when we’re back to walking along again like proper grownups.

There’s something I can’t read in the blue eyes when they glance at me. He kicks at a small stone on

the pathway. “Yeah, okay.”

I roll my eyes. “How about we try that again, and this time you make it sound like you mean it?”

He suddenly stops and stares at me darkly, his jaw all tight. “Next you’ll ask me to be happy about

you leaving, too.”

Okay, maybe that breaks my heart a little, but I don’t let it show, more out of habit than anything

else. I bury my hands in my pockets and look at him, tilting my head slightly to the side. “Nick…”

“Forget it,” he snarls and walks on.

I’m quick to catch up. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “It sucks for me too.”

He throws me an unbelieving glance and actually laughs, quiet and bitter under his breath. “Right.

Sucks so much for you and James to be starting a whole new life together in a great new place. I’m

stuck here.”

Alone. He doesn’t say it, but it’s there, underneath the words. I don’t know what to say, so

eventually I opt for: “I’m just a phone call away.”

He shakes his head, refusing to look at me. “That’s not the same thing.”

“I know. So what can I do? Just tell me.”

Nick stares into the distance. “You can’t do anything. And you can’t make me not angry with you by

looking at me like that. Not a chance.”

“You sure?” I give him my best lost puppy look. This is a serious weapon I only use in dire need.

He manages to stare at me darkly for a couple of moments more, then he has to smile and looks

away. “Screw you.”

I allow myself a mental high five, but then I get serious. Apparently, this needs to be said. “It’s not

as easy as you think, leaving here. I’d stay if I could. But that doesn’t mean we have to lose touch, you

and I. Unless that’s what you want.”

He laughs dryly in reply. “Like it matters what I want.”

I shrug. “Matters to me.”

He looks at me as if to say: since when? And ouch, that hits home. I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me

for the shitty way I treated him last semester. I’ve been trying my best to make amends, but those

wounds appear too deep to heal in such a short period of time. I realize how much I’m hurting him

again now, just when I’d finally established that I’d be a part of his life. I wish there was something I

could do, but I’m at a loss when it comes to making things right with him. It seems there’s nothing I can

say.

We stand there for an uncomfortable moment, not looking at each other. If words are futile, there has

to be another way to convince him that I care about him. I step closer and pull him into a hug. Nick tries

to push me back, but only half-heartedly, and when I don’t let go, he gives in. He sinks against me,

ducks enough to press his face against my neck, and I pull him closer. We stand like this for a long time,

neither of us saying a word. It’s getting darker now, and the streetlamps along the path come to life,

shining their light on us. I close my eyes briefly and inhale the familiar scent of his skin. I think we’ll be

okay some day. It’s neither today, nor tomorrow. There’s still a long way to go. I’m not even sure what I

mean to him now, or what I ever meant to him. But standing here with him, the thought of leaving

makes me sad for the first time.