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Determined to win… thiswhatever… We go back and forth, trying to outdo each other before a staff member comes and clears their throat loudly.
“It’s closing time,” they admonish.
We get up and I want to grin, but don’t. From the shape of his mouth, he is holding back, too. It makes no sense how fun this was or that I could do it again and again. Playing the weirdest dictionary game thought up is a bizarre highlight of this day.
At the door, Huan reaches above my head to open it before I can. His shadow sizzles across my shoulders. I try to avoid it, but by doing so, my shoulder grazes his chest. I see his spread-out fingers on the door go into an abrupt fist.
We are like that fist.
Bound by pressurized tension.
A virginal shoulder graze has my skin breaking out in goosebumps. The inside of my cheek was bit. I'm pestered by gathering arousal. Neither is Huan unaffected. He avoidscontact with me like I've inherited the plague. I must have gangrene on my body. He won't look anywhere below my eyebrows.
When we go to Wyndham’s Theatre to seeLife of Pi, I think it’s like watching a movie but loads better. Darkness will melt everything between us, and we’ll get relief.
It works when the production and staging makes my jaw drop. Seeing magical costumes and genius floor mechanisms create a boat, I can’t believe my eyes. Watching feels like an immersive gift, especially when they project undulating water waves onto the stage. This is an experience I don't feel like I'll get outside of London. I feel like I'm finally soaking in the city.
Whatever happens, whenever I come back to London, I always need to see a play.
Being a spoilsport, my inner voice reminds me.Sure, but you’ll have to wear a hat or sunglasses or a wig.
When intermission comes, I smile at the older woman beside me. She has dark skin, wears a great floral dress with puffy sleeves, and whispers, “Sorry about my wife. The wine made her sleepy near the end, so she started snoring. I sent her to the bathroom to freshen up, but I hope the noise didn’t bother you?”
“We heard nothing,” I reassure.
“Splendid. I’m Pat.”
“Komal, and he’s Huan.”
“How do you like the play so far?”
“Reviews called it magical but are you kidding? The tagline should beYou’ll Kick Yourself If You Miss The Chance to Believe in Magic Again.”
Pat laughs. “Oh, that’s actually quite brilliant.” Then she pulls her purse onto her lap. “Well, I’ve snuck in sandwiches. Care for one?”
“Really? Only if you and your wife have enough.”
When Pat hands me a sandwich, Huan grabs it first. Poison check, I suppose, rolling my eyes. After a few moments where he took a little bite, I get the rest of the sandwich.
“He’s greedy”—despite my attempt at whispering my voice carries—“and likes to eat.”
Pat snorts. “My Rhoda should eat like him so she can sober up.”
“See, I didnotknow watching with wine was an option.”
“You want wine? I’ll get you some,” Huan says.
He stands and is gone quickly.
“That is what I call a good sign,” Pat says when we are alone. “The man jumped to his feet to get you wine. I would hold tightly to him.”
The easiest explanation is to agree and to have this be another example of us fake-dating, but I find myself not wanting to do that. “We’re not together.”
“Are you sure?”
I smile. “I think I would know.”
“Pity. He looks at you all the time.”
