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“So you don’t want people telling you you’re awesome.”
“Honestly? I don’t think I deserve it. And no matter how many people are inspired watching me climb a flight of steps, I’m still the one who has to do the hard work.”
Like trying not to fall over on a first date because he got scared by an old lady.
“Okay,” Hayley said. “I had to give out flyers at Icarus after our shows. So everyone had to walk past me, and a lot of them would tell me how great the show was, you know? How great I was.”
“That doesn’t surprise me at all.”
“Point is, all they saw was how good they thought I was. Meanwhile, one time I was throwing up in the dressing room during intermission. I’d disagree with some people’s praise, but that didn’t make them wrong. Just because I didn’t see what they got out of the show doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
“So I’m inspirational whether I like it or not.”
“Yes,” she said. “You’re strong and you’re decent and you’re sexy and you’re inspirational, even if you think you know better. Even if you think you’re a shitty dancer. Sometimes it’s about how other people interpret your dance.”
He thought it over. “What’d you call me?”
She rolled her eyes. “You heard me.”
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “See, I’m disabled, and …”
“Asshat,” she said. “I called you an asshat.”
“Did not.”
“I meant to.”
36
“So you’re telling me you don’t evenlikemusicals,” Hayley said.
Nick shook his head as they walked. “I’m just wondering whose idea it was. Who decided logic shouldn’t get in the way of singing and dancing?”
“You can’t tell me people don’t like singing and dancing.”
“It’d be one thing if the movie wasaboutsinging and dancing.” He stopped to give a passing jogger a wide berth. “I get whyDirty Dancinghas dancing in it. But can you honestly watchGuys and DollsorWest Side Storyand tell me it makes sense for all those gangsters to burst into song?”
“Look at you, getting all the titles right.”
The heat of the day had faded to give Hayley a comfortable summer evening, and she was on a date with plenty of electricity and zero anxiety. Sheknewhim—it was like they’d gone through all the hard stuff before anybody started keeping score, and now she could just be here in the moment with him. She was surrounded by movement: the give and take of their conversation, the rush of the cars and the people around them, and even thelight breeze that toyed with her hair. Then a new sound joined the rhythm of their walk: Nick was breathing heavily.
Really, Hayley Michelle? You know him? The theater’s still two blocks away. He’s arguing with you because he doesn’t want you to notice him suffering.
“Hey, rock star,” she said. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
She saw sweat on his forehead when he glanced at her. “What?”
“Seems like you’re in a big hurry. We’ve got time.”
He shook his head and went back to concentrating on the sidewalk. “I’m good.”
Nick didn’t seem good. Even at a slow pace, it seemed to take a lot of effort for him to keep moving. He dragged his feet across the concrete, one doggedly after the other, stumbling when his walker wheel caught the edge of an uneven sidewalk square.
“You’d think they’d have handicapped spaces nearby,” she said.
He shook his head again. “Where would they put them? Everything’s crammed together down here.”
“You knew that ahead of time.”
