“Hey, that was incredible.”
“Thanks.” I feel my cheeks heat. I didn’t expect Aidan to come to a show. He came plenty when we were kids, but mostly because my parents brought him along and then rewarded us both afterwards. They always took us to a great restaurant after a show. Somewhere we’d never usually get to go, and we ordered anything we wanted. That usually included milkshakes. And since his mom was always on some health food kick, he was happy to get anything that wasn’t tofu and quinoa.
His being here today means a lot to me, even if he’s here by force.
“Mr. Matthews, is this the one you’re dating?” A little girl with blonde pigtails stares up at me.
Is my mom using mini-spies now?
Aidan winces. “This is myfriendCovey.”
“But that’s the one Mr. Ralston said is your boyfriend. Right?”
“Yes.” I can practically hear Aidan grinding his teeth together. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but I can tell I’ve missed something.
“Oh, are you guys going to get married?” a girl wearing a pink skirt that looks like a tutu asks.
I nearly choke on my spit. It’s been a whole ten minutes since the show ended. How did things go sideways this quickly?
“Can you visit our classroom?”
“Can you show me how to do turns?”
The questions come rapid fire. No one seems interested in pausing long enough to get an answer, which is good because I don’t have any.
“Why aren’t you wearing pants?”
And… everyone is staring. At my crotch. Cool. I take a deep breath and try not to look uncomfortable. “I’m wearing tights. They’re part of my costume.” That’s the kind of question I answer a lot. Perhaps not surprisingly, I get a lot of questions about the tights. And what I wear under them.
“But I can see your—” Aidan moves fast enough to get a hand over a little boy’s mouth before he can finish that thought.
“I think we’ve taken up enough of Covey’s time. I’m sure he has important things to do.” I’m so thankful I could kiss him. That’d only create more problems.
“I do need to mingle a bit.” Lies, but one I feel comfortable with. Perhaps I should think about how comfortable I’ve become telling little fibs. Maybe something to tell my therapist about in our next session.
“Okay, but since you’re Mr. Matthew’s boyfriend, we’ll see you again soon, right?”
I stare at Aidan, silently pleading with him to answer this one.
“Well, I’m not sure if he’ll have time before the end of the year,” Aidan says.
“Okay, we’ll see you next year.” My throat thickens. It’s not like Aidan and I won’t still be in each other’s lives. But friends don’t visit each other at work, right?
Bored with the direction the conversation has taken, the kids are wild and screaming, using the open space in the lobby to play tag. It’s a stark contrast from the usual audience. And yet, Aidan seems completely in his element. It’s as if he can anticipate the next issue before it even arises. One stern look from him and the students change course entirely.
I don’t blame them either. If I got that look…I manage to hold back a full-body shiver.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, as if that might be the right answer to whatever unasked question is lingering between us. I hope my face conveys a little more of what’s going through my mind at the moment, all the feelings I can’t seem to put a name to.He smiles at me, but it doesn’t look right. It’s too forced, restrained.
I manage to make it through the crowd with only a few other questions from students. At least this time, they’re about ballet and not about my tights or relationship status. Backstage, I collapse in one of the chairs with my protein shake. I need real food, but this will do for the moment.
It’s quiet, which is a stark change from the usual chaos backstage. A lot of people have already left or are still out front. There’s an uncomfortable feeling brewing in my chest.
I think… I’m sad. Sad that I won’t be with Aidan in the new year. The realization is a slap in the face. It’s not like our friendship will be over. I hope. There’s something that feels different. I like him being my fake boyfriend.
And that’s a thought that I’m way too tired to unpack today. I manage to get out of my costume and back into my favorite sweatpants and a waffle shirt. After way too long in sweaty, tight-fitting clothes, it’s a welcome change for my skin. I’ll shower at home and do a proper cool down there. I pull my phone out of my bag. There’s a handful of text messages, but I zero in on the ones from Aidan.
Sure enough, there’s a warning about the kids finding out about the two of us. Followed by a more recent one.
