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A small ripple of laughter passes through the audience, but I’m getting the professor’s point doubly as I get to read what’s supposed to happen next. Interaction is key to this scene.
We finish running through it verbally, leaving out the details of how we’re supposed to perform it. Then Professor Lihn has us collect our props–the girls Velcroing floor-length skirts around their waists and Ellie accepting a parasol. Then we take our places across the stage where Lihn instructs us to stand.
The professor reads the introduction, and then Bianka comes to life, twirling to showcase her skirt’s torn butt in dramatic fashion as she wails about how nothing can be done to fix it. Laughter echoes through the space as she performs her piece, and then the blonde steps forward to twirl her skirts in an overly dramatic fashion as she spins.
Bianka looks completely distraught as she starts to imitate the twirl and the skirt offers up an ugly shredding sound, followed by Bianka’s look of utter mortification.
“Don’t worry, Maria. I know how to fix it,” I say, taking on a confident, heroic tone as I cross the stage to Bianka.
The anxiety in her eyes almost gives me pause, but I know thatnottouching her would make things harder in the long run. So instead, I close my fingers around her waist, dragging my hands down over her hips to grab a handful of the skirt. The radiant heat that travels up my arms makes my breath catch in my throat, but I press on, twirling Bianka as I wrap her up in the length of fabric.
I have to tug harder than I had anticipated to separate the skirt’s Velcro, and by the time it finally gives, I’ve accidentally managed to destabilize Bianka. As the skirt finally gives way, crumpling to the ground and revealing her actual dress, she topples into my arms with a squeal.
For a single heartbeat, her hands find my arms as she falls against me. My hands find her waist to steady her, and our eyes meet. A jolt of energy crackles through my ribcage, leaving my mouth dry as I come dangerously close to brushing lips with her.
And then, as Bianka swiftly pulls herself together, the moment evaporates. The room erupts in boisterous laughter when she calls me an imbecile this time. And I barely have time to set her on her feet before Ellie’s beside us, her parasol held aloft like a club.
“Unhand her, you fiend!” Ellie scolds me again, thwacking me over the head lightly, though she does a convincing enough job of making it look like a real blow that I flinch instinctually.
The scene devolves into a wild chase around the length of the stage as I flee with Ellie in hot pursuit. Meanwhile, our fifth group member, Matt, plays the gentleman who offers Bianka a blanket as she mourns the loss of her ruined clothes.
“And that is why choreography is key to performance,” Professor Lihn explains once our scene comes to a close. “Well done, you five. Alright, who’s next?”
Exuberant volunteers rise from their seats as Bianka and I lead our group off the stage. I’m tempted to join her as she sits down, but Ellie takes the seat next to her on one side, and Bianka intentionally plops her school bag into the empty chair on her other side.
With a quiet chuckle, I resign myself to sitting in an open chair a ways away. She’s not budging an inch on her anger.
5
BIANKA
“I know it’s last minute, but what do you say to a sleepover tonight?” Ellie gushes over the phone, her enthusiasm immediately making me wonder what she’s up to.
“A sleepover? I don’t know… I mean, would Lucca be there? Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you both, but I feel like that might be kind of weird if we were all piled in bed like you and I used to….”
“No, silly,” Ellie chides. “Like a girls’ night sleepover. Come on, what do you say? It’s been forever since we curled up with a bottle of wine and some popcorn, put on a chick flick, and talked about girl stuff.”
She’s not wrong. I haven’t spent time outside of class withjust Elliesince the night she met Lucca. And girl talk is excruciatingly uncomfortable when the subject matter is sitting right there, holding your best friend’s hand.
After one awkward attempt early in their relationship, I completely gave up on the idea, resigning myself to a new era of friendship in which anything I wanted to say to Ellie would have to be something I could say in front of Lucca too. That meant no inside info on their extravagant dates, no experiencing romance vicariously through my friend since I couldn’t have it, anddefinitelyno talk about what happened between Cassio and me.
As soon as I think of his name, my composure goes up in flames yet again. Honestly, Ellie’s invitation could not have come at a better time. While itisa little out of the blue, a girls’ night is long overdue, and suddenly, I’m excited about it. Just me and Ellie, no Lucca to occupy her attention, which means we can actually talk. I can’t remember the last time we put on some comfy pj’s, shared a bottle of wine, and had a deep conversation.
“You know what, that sounds wonderful,” I say, feeling my own enthusiasm match hers from the start of our call.
“Yay! How soon can you come over?”
“Give me a few hours?” I suggest.
“Done. See you then!”
It’s embarrassing to say how much I’ve missed that conspiratorial tone in Ellie’s voice. Though we haven’t come up with any mischief yet, I’m sure she’s just anticipating it now that we’ll have her apartment to ourselves for an entire night. And I can’t wait.
Two hours later, I stand outside Ellie’s apartment in one of Rosehill’s historic student-housing buildings on the far end of campus, overnight bag on one shoulder and gold-chained, white-leather Gucci purse on the other. Finally, I feel the week’s stress easing from my muscles.
“You’re here!” Ellie shouts as soon as she opens the door, throwing her arms wide to pull me into a hug.
I give her a tight squeeze, and then she drags me into her nicely decorated apartment, taking my overnight bag from my shoulder and walking it down the hall to toss it in her bedroom. I drop my purse and shoes by the door and set the bottle of sauvignon blanc on the kitchen counter.
