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It was after that humiliating experience that I decided to turn my talents elsewhere. If not reading, I tried to craft my own stories. Sadly, nobody was looking to turn a child’s stories into plays. So, I joined the crew instead. A decade later and I’m still immersed in the theatre, securely behind the scenes where everyone is safe from my bodily fluids.
“Hey, Soph. How’s it going?”
I turn my attention to Colin, another behind-the-scenes crew member. Over the last three years, we’ve spent hours side by side designing sets, executing those designs, and comforting one another when something goes awry. I’ll miss him. Thank goodness the crush I harbored the first few months after he joined the crew is ancient history. Mostly. If he asked me out, I’d gladly accept. Seize the day and all that.
“Hiya. Thanks for getting the rocks primed yesterday.”
With a paint brush in his hand, Colin steps next to me and gets to work on another rock. Some would say perfection is my downfall. I say it’s a positive trait. Still, even I question my life choices right now. We could have done something less intricate for the rock structure in act two. Instead, I came up with an idea to hand paint the pieces to ensure they had a more realistic look. Unfortunately that means I’ll be here late each night, leading right up to opening.
“No worries. Are you looking forward to graduation?”
“Yes and no. I’m thrilled to be done with classes, but overall I will miss it. How about you?”
With a shrug and snort, Colin doesn’t speak at first. We paint in silence a few minutes before he turns to face me. “I’m not going to med school.”
The brush in my hand drops and lands in my lap. Good thing I slipped on the overalls I wear only for the backstage grunt work. “What? That’s been your dream since you were a kid.”
“Funny enough, I’m not sure why I thought it was. Looking back, it was something I thought was cool and science comes easy to me.”
Stunned, I process his words for a beat. “I mean being a doctorispretty cool. Doctors and nurses are real life superheroes, Colin. And maybe never tell people science is easy. That’s just weird.”
My comment works and my friend laughs. It isn’t a cordial laugh at my lame attempt at humor but the kind that rumbles through you just by being close. Happy with my effort I ask, “What brought on the change of heart?”
“I think it’s been in the back of mind for a while. Just kind of sitting there, taking up space. But a few weeks ago I was in a minor car accident—”
Gasping, I grab his arm. He stops talking and looks at me like I’m crazy, but he must realize what he said. “Oh, I’m fine. It was just a little fender bender but when I approached the driver of the other car, he was complaining of chest pains. I stayed with him until the EMTs arrived and as I watched them work with the man, I had this flash of a realization.Thatis what I want to do. I want to be first on the scene. Helping people in the moment.”
When Colin stops talking, I tilt my head a little and try to ignore that my hand still rests on his arm. With a smile I say, “I can see it. Hot paramedic. Will you do one of those shirtless calendars too?”
He shifts, lightly pushing my shoulder, and we both laugh. “So you’re sticking with medicine and being a superhero, just not in a white coat. I think that’s great.”
Standing and moving to grab more paint, he fills the small bucket we’ve been dipping our brushes in before offering me a response. “Yeah well, my dad is pissed. He thinks I wasted four years of my life, aka his money.”
That makes me sad for Colin but it doesn’t surprise me. His dad has always been hard on him. How could his father be anything but proud of his son for realizing exactly what he wants to do with his life? Unlike me. I will graduate with a piece of paper affirming I have a degree in economics and not a single idea what to do with it. When I declared my major, I thought it would get my foot in the door of a Fortune 500 company and climb the ladder of financial success. A position in a big rectangular building and awful heels on my feet. I shudder.
“Well, I think it’s great and am proud of you for following your passion. Will you stay here?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll go back to Arizona, just not Tucson. I need a little distance from my dad, but it will make my mom happy. Plus, I miss the heat. Call me crazy but I need sunshine.”
We both laugh and turn the conversation to less serious topics. Hours pass and we’ve made substantial progress with the painting. I promised myself I would get home before midnight so when Colin suggests we pack it up, I don’t argue.
I take a few minutes to update the to-do list on the white board while Colin puts away the last of the supplies. He leads me through the dark building and to the exit where he’s parked his car. Early on in our working relationship, we agreed I would always accept a ride home at night, even if I was feeling stubborn. Tonight, I don’t even pretend to argue; I’m tired and the chill in the air warns of rain.
Riding in a car across campus means we don’t even make it through the second song filling the silence before Colin pulls up in front of my house. Unfastening my seat belt, I turn in my seat. “I’m really happy for you and the decision you’ve made for your future. Your dad will come around. Just remind him it’s better now than after he’s paid for med school for you make this choice.”
“Thanks, Soph. You’re a good friend.”
“Eh, you make it easy. Thanks for the ride.”
I step out of the car and close the door just as the first raindrop hits my nose. Rushing up the walkway, I turn the doorknob but it’s locked. As it should be at this late hour. Unzipping my crossbody, I pull out my keys just as my phone lights up the inside of my bag with a message.
Quickly, I let myself in and wave to Colin as he drives away. My phone buzzes again and once I have the door closed and locked, I slip off my shoes and make my way through the dark house to my room. With the door closed and light on, I discard my jacket and pull my phone from my bag before setting it on my dresser.
Unknown: Why are you out so late?
What the hell? It’s been a week since the flower and text incident. I wondered if the person would reach out again. This isn’t the same thread so hopefully I’m in luck and it’s just a wrong number.
I feel bad for whoever the girl this text is meant for. Clearly the guy’s a controlling dick. I should ignore the message. It isn’t for me. My finger hovers over the message box. I can’t help myself. If I can’t warn the girl away from this asshole, at least I can tell him he is one.
