Page 110 of King of the Crease

I look up flights to Ardenia on my phone. Oy, I’m going to have to unclog a lot of sinks to pay Des back. The theater lights flash on and off, telling us the show is going to begin in a few minutes.

“Hold on a second.” I pause mid-booking. “I need to talk to Brody.”

I run down the aisle, hop onto the stage, and find my way into the wings. Kids in costumes and other kids in black T-shirts flitter about the tight space.

“No civilians back here,” Mr. Calloway says, standing in my way.

“It’ll take a minute.”

“The show is going on in a minute.”

“Please.”

“Dad?” Brody steps out of the communal dressing room in his dentist costume, his face coated with makeup for the lights. “What’s wrong?”

“Ev, let him talk to his son,” Mr. Marshall puts a hand on Mr. Calloway’s shoulder.

“He’s messing with the preshow atmosphere. He’s going to throw off the vibe.” Mr. Calloway steps aside. “Fine. But if there’s one offkey note or a missed cue out there, I’m holding you responsible.”

I rush over to my son. “Brody, what if I had to miss your show tonight?”

“Because you have to see a prince?”

I nod yes. Brody’s eyes catch on fire with excitement. He has wild Orin energy dancing through his body. But I quickly come to my senses.

“No.” I shake my head. “I want to support you. You come first. What am I doing?”

“Dad.” Brody puts his hands on my shoulders. It’s nuts that he’s as tall as me. “Catch that plane.”

“Are you sure? I really wanted to watch you perform.”

“Catch that plane, Dad.” Brody kisses me on the cheek.

“I…” Nerves splutter around in my stomach. Am I really doing this? What if he says no?

I heave out a breath. “Main character energy.”

All of the actors and tech crew have gathered around us, fully invested.

“Gromantic gesture. Let’s freaking go!” Mr. Marshall throws a fist in the air.

“He means grand romantic gesture,” Mr. Calloway stage whispers to me.

Everyone erupts in cheers as I run for the backstage exit. I hear Mr. Calloway say “Places everyone” as the show begins.

I barrel down the halls of South Rock High, heart in my throat, feeling every bit the leading man. I race past the cafeteria into the main lobby, throw open the front doors in a dramatic fashion–

And hit a man in the face.

He collapses to the ground holding his nose. When he removes his hand, revealing his beautiful face, bloody nose, and those deep, dark eyes, I can’t help but swoon.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Nick says.

35

NICK

Well, this is not the romantic entrance I had planned.