Wild Cards

Chapter 7: Comedy Career

"Shit!" Arthur immediately leaps off my bed and runs a hand through his messy curls.  I sit up and watch him pace around the room, clearly stressed about his current predicament.  "What do I tell her?" he mutters to himself.

"How does she know you're here?" I wonder aloud.

His brows raise as the realization hits him.  "I left my bag outside your door last night.  I wasn't thinking about..."

About anything other than his adrenaline driving emotions, I finish in my head.

I quickly draw up a conclusion for him, scooting to the edge of the bed.  "Tell her that you came over here to talk to me and lost track of time, exhausted from your latest gig."

He nods in agreement before squatting down to slip on his shoes and lace them up.  Standing back up, he takes a deep breath, and then heads for the door.  Before leaving my line of sight, he turns to face me and says, "I'll be right back.  I'm just gonna calm her down and take her back to my place."

I nod and watch him go, already missing him even though he'll be back shortly.

After my door hastily squeaks open and closes, I walk to the living room and overhear hushed, but distinct voices out in the hallway.

"I'm fine, mother," Arthur's muffled tone explains.  "I was just spending time with my friend and then I accidentally fell asleep."

"Oh, Happy, I was so worried when I woke up and you weren't there," his mother's voice sighs with concern.

"Mom, everything's alright. I promise," he placates her.  "Come on, let's get you back inside."

"You must like this friend very much," she states in an airy manner.  "Is it a woman?"

"Yes," I hear Arthur say quietly.

"Did you ask her out?"

I smile and blush even though I can't see either of them.  Somehow, I know that Arthur is blushing, too.

"Come on, we'll talk later," he coaxes.  "I'll make you breakfast."  After he says this, their voices and footsteps drift away from my apartment.

Realizing that I'm still wearing my clothes from yesterday, I decide to change into some gray sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt.  Next, I make myself a cup of coffee and one for Arthur, too, since he promised to return.

About twenty minutes later, he knocks and I let him in, offering him a mug full of the hot liquid as we sit across from each other at my small kitchen table.

I push strands of my messy hair away from my face and watch him sip and stare at me, nervously looking away every couple of seconds.

"What is it?" I ask, picking up on his anxious vibes.

"Um... I wanted to ask if you'd like to come see my stand-up routine Monday night?"

I stare at him in disbelief.  "You're gonna perform at Pogo's?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, waiting on my answer.

"What time?"

"Seven," he says.

My heart sinks as I remember my school obligations.  "Oh, Arthur. I'd love to go, but I have an important exam at 6:30."

"Oh..." he whispers, glancing down at his cup.  The disappointment is evident in that one little word.

In an attempt to cheer him up, I try to not totally discourage him about the idea.  "But as soon as I'm done, I'll head straight over there.  I might be able to see some of your act, depending on what time I get there."

A minuscule smile appears.  "You don't have to do that, Carlie.  It's okay.  School is more important."

I sigh, looking deep into his green spheres.  "You're important to me, too.  And I want to be there to support you.  I won't rush, but I won't procrastinate either.  I'll try to make it as soon as I can.  I promise."

He grins gratefully back at me.  "I don't deserve you."

I reach across the table and take his hand in mine, letting my thumb glide across the bridge of his knuckles.  "You deserve to be happy.  We both do during these crazy times.  Otherwise, we'd go insane."