Shoelaces

Miscommunications

Okay, okay. So, I'm not usually the type of person to get cold feet. Let alone anything foot-related. Feet are gross. But today, my feet are covered with ice. Somebody must have shoved them in the freezer while I wasn't looking. And it's all because my boyfriend-- I can't believe I'm even saying that, can't believe I'm able to say that and not be lying-- is coming to my show tonight. Closing night of my high school's production of Wicked. And somewhere in the audience, my boyfriend is going to be sitting down watching me perform. And all of that has caused my feet to take a vacation to the arctic.

For the past two weeks, our relationship has only gotten better, at least through my eyes. I can't speak for him, but I hope the feeling is mutual. We text constantly, so much so that I'm texting during class for the first time in my life. That's way too risky for Darrion Gubart. I mean, if I was ever caught, I would definitely cry, and that would be another story. We see each other more and more. One time he even surprised me at my school to walk home with me, which caused me to explode. I mean, his school is across town so that was some true dedication on his part. Whenever we go out to eat, we now have an unspoken rule that we basically share all the food, mostly implemented by Santi, if that wasn't obvious. And all of it just makes me love him more.

Um. Rewind. Let's just forget I said the big L word right then. You're known for rushing things, Darrion, but this is a little bit too much. Well, a lot of a little bit too much. One night, way past a good time to go to bed, I saw this article saying that an average person says "I love you" after 88 days. Me and Santi have been boyfriends for 2 weeks and a day. Way too soon, Darrion. Get it together.

Anyways, like I said, for the past two weeks our relationship has been getting better, but I strongly believe that a simple failure on stage tonight could be the death of us. Which is why I'm a ball of nerves.

Jazmine and I sit in the green room together, getting ready for the closing night of our last high school show. I do some touch-ups for her green makeup, as she recalls funny moments from the prior shows.

"Remember when Gregory ate it on stage during his like only part of the show?" she says quietly, trying not to let anybody else in the room hear.

"Obviously. It made this whole thing worth it." I dab more makeup onto the back of her neck as we both laugh.

"Wait, Goob," she grabs my hand that's applying the makeup. "I just remembered. Your boyfriend is coming tonight!" She screams.

"Yes, he is, and I'm completely terrified. What if I fuck up?"

"Come on, you know you kill it every night. And besides, I basically manifested that you two would end up together, and now I'm manifesting for a great show."

"Thank you, but shut up," I flick the back of her neck, which she responds to with a fake "ouch." That's when Ms. DuFrey walks into the green room, the rain-er of all parades. She calls us all together to do a cast circle and to tell us to all break our legs, and then she's gone, muttering something about her cats. Poor cats. That's when I look at the clock. It's 10 minutes to places, which means 10 minutes to the start of the show, which means 10 minutes until Santi can decide to break up with me. I want to throw up. Better than the actual thing, I guess. Jaz hugs me and wishes for me to have a great show, and I do the same. I really want to believe I will have a great show. But you never know.

I walk to my place in the wings, and basically sway back and forth due to my nerves. I always get nervous before I perform, but not like this. It's never this bad. I feel like I'm about to step off my podium and run into the Hunger Games. Okay, yes, that might be a little extreme. But my body feels like a carcass of Jello and not in a tasty way. What makes it worse is that I don't go on until a few scenes into the show, which basically means I get to sit alone with my mind racing. Will I fuck up? Will I not? The world's about to find out in like fifteen minutes.