Page 64 of All Our Almosts

“Not really,” I insist. “We rehearsed so much. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

But Mari knows me well enough to know I’m lying, and benevolently offers a topic for distraction. “Did I see you with a date earlier? Who is he?”

“Oh that’s just Andy. He’s the friend I told you about, the one I’m living with now.”

Mariane’s eyes visibly widen. “Friend? Okay then…”

“What?” I hiss.

“I get it.” She raises her hands in surrender. “I’m your coworker. This is a job and stuff. You don’t have to tell me what goes on at home…” The suspicious look she gives me out of the corner of her eye completely belies her words.

“Mari!”

“Honey, good for you! If I was single and that man offered to take me home, I would crawl there on my hands and knees.”

“Oh my god.” Now my palms are sweating for a completely different reason, and it takes all of my willpower to keep my volume down. “We are just friends. And platonic roommates. Nothing is happening there.” I shake my head and look away, hoping the hallway lights are too dim for her to read my expression.

“Now I could stand up here and gab all night,” says the voice onstage, “but I know you all want to hear about the real impact of your support. So, without further ado, it is my great pleasure to introduce Program Manager Sophie Lindell, who will share more about what this new exhibit means for the future of the Museum of Science.”

And that’s my cue. I walk onto the stage, nervous as a minnow on a hook, trying to remind myself that most of the people in this room don’t really care what I say. Rational thinking, however, cannot stop the heavy pounding in my chest.

“Thank you for that warm introduction, Adira,” I say into the podium mic. “And hello everyone. As Adira said, my name is Sophie Lindell and I am the Program Manager for the new Unlocking the Universe exhibit here at the Museum of Science.”

My voice is shaky—darn it. And now that I’m focusing on that fact, I’m sure it’ll just get shakier. I consciously take a steadying breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

Then I spot Andy in the crowd. Him and his two-dimple smile, just a few rows away, shaking his head like he can’t believe I’m speaking to this huge crowd at this fancy gala. And he looks so inexplicably proud of me, even though I’ve barely done anything yet, that my nerves melt with the rest of me into a puddle on the floor.

I say my next line directly to him, like we’re rehearsing in our kitchen and no one else can hear.

“The initial idea for this exhibit came from an icebreaker at a staff retreat a few years ago.” My voice sounds steadier already, so I continue. “We asked our staff, ‘What is the first science concept you learned as a child that amazed you?’ Then we asked, ‘What’s a science concept you never learned as a child, but you wish you had?’...”

Every time I look up from my notes, I look for Andy’s face in the crowd first. He’s like my charging station—when my battery gets low I find him and build up the will to engage the crowd.

“...Fortunately, as technology advances, and science education forges new frontiers, museums have a new opportunity to put the universe in the palm of a child’s hand...”

I feel the rhythm of it now, and you know what? This isn’t so bad. I say one of my scripted jokes—cheesy as it is—and the crowd actually laughs with me. It’s not a roar, but it’s a titter, and that’s enough.

“...Through a combination of tactile models, cutting-edge visualization screens, and even 3D projections, Unlocking the Universe provides developmentally appropriate and interactive experiences for learners in a wide range of ages…”

When my remarks conclude, the audience is generous with their applause. (What was I worried about? I should’ve known they would be nice to me!) Then the program finishes with a few quick video clips from our pilot test group. I’ve seen them a million times, so although I’m still standing at the side of the stage, I look away from the screen and glance around the room.

When my eyes find Andy now, his expression has changed. It’s yet another look I don’t know how to interpret. The only way I can describe it is sincere. Almost Nolan-esque in its openness. The corner of his mouth thinks about a smile, but his eyes look… determined? wistful? somewhere in between? And I could tell myself, sure, that’s a look one friend could give another friend. But the evidence is mounting that it’s more than that. He kissed me! And yes, he freaked out afterwards—but so did I, and lord knows that doesn’t mean I don’t want him.

Caught in the spell of his attention, I almost feel brave enough to do something about it. To go home tonight and demand he tell me his feelings, and demand of myself that I do the same.

Almost.

When the video ends and I step back out into the wings, Mari greets me with a feline grin.

“Were you looking at him?” she asks—no longer forced to whisper with the remarks finally behind us.

“Who?”

“Your ‘platonic roommate.’”

I hedge. “A little bit… Why?”

“He was staring at you like you hung the Moon.”