Off on a Whim

Play Your Part--Mariah and Rob

I sat on my bed, fingering with the drawstrings of my sweatpants and wondering for the tenth time why I was wearing ratty sweatpants and an old tie-dye tee when I had company in my room.

Then again, Rob didn't even tell me he was coming over. He just showed up at my doorstep, begging me to run lines with him even though we already did that plenty of times at the playhouse. I had no idea how he'd obtained my address. Maybe it was through trial and error. Before I could say anything, let alone invite him inside, he unearthed his packet of lines from his jean pocket and shuffled into the kitchen and up the stairs.

My parents were away on a date night, as was tradition on Saturdays, so who was I to send him away?

We were putting on a production of Home for the Summer at the town playhouse. The story, entailing the life of a college student when she comes back home to find her childhood crush with another girl, had appealed to me, and so I found myself playing the lead, while Rob played the protective but goofy brother.

The part of the "other girl" belonged to Christine Baker. Christine Baker was in fact Rob's crush, had been Rob's crush for five-and-a-half years, and the only reason he signed up for the play. He turned out to be a half-decent actor, so he landed the role. Rob and Christine exchanged only a few lines, but for him it was worth it to just be in her presence.

I knew this, as he told it all to me furtively at auditions. We hadn't been very well acquainted before that.

"But, brother, he and I...We're not supposed to be just friends!" I put on an enraged front, as my character tended to get very passionate when talking about her crush.

Rob shook his head in laughter, curly rust-colored hair flying in front of his face. The locks almost hit me from his position on the desk chair. "Karen, Karen. No matter how many times I tell you otherwise, you still think you have a chance of being with this Ernie character. It's just not going to happen. I'm sorry. And that concludes the first act!"

It was my turn to laugh, albeit out of character.

"What?" Rob asked, feigning hurt.

"It's just that this is the first time you've gotten those lines all right without having to look at your packet. You should be proud of yourself."

Rob smiled. "Mariah, Mariah—you bring out the best actor in me."

I immediately tensed up and reached for the back of my neck, rubbing vigorously.

Eek!

It was undeniable that Rob had a way with words. That's in part why he hadn't been turned down at auditions. Usually, this skill was directed towards getting Christine's attention. But that was for me.

Seeing my uncomfortableness, instead of frowning, Rob grinned again. "It's true. I didn't know I could act for a while. I hadn't really tried it, I guess. When I started doing it, though, I figured out I could actually be good at this acting thing. That confidence grew when we met and started running lines." I began to talk, but Rob cut me off. "Mariah, just listen to me. Even if you're not an actor, you still have to play your part. It's a life thing. Figuring out how to express yourself depending on the situation and the person. And I don't know anyone who can help me do that better."

I placed my hands on my cheeks. They were burning, alright. I turned away shyly, facing my wall. Photos of my parents and me dominated the floral wallpaper, along with posters of women's rights and pop bands. I noticed some stray marks, too. Bruises on the wallpaper. Tiny tears.

I let go of the desperate tears banging on my eyelids and looked back at Rob in a spurt of boldness. Crying was a natural process. Nothing odd about it. He softened at my tear-stained face but didn't comment on it. "Rob, I-I don't know what to say. I thought we were just line buddies."

Rob scoffed. "Line buddies? When I think of you, I think of a friend."

Friend. Despite his lengthy revelation, or perhaps because of it, the word stung.

Why? Why was I thinking like this? Why now? I hadn't given my time spent with Rob much thought before. To me, it was just memorizing our lines. Not friendship. Not really.

Gee. I was being so theatrical.

I fished around for a topic to cast back this one, one with which I was inexplicably uneasy. "How are things going in your quest to win over Christine?"

"Well, er, I asked her out today as we were walking home. And you know what she said?"
I smiled at what was supposed to be a rhetorical question. After five-and-a-half years of Rob crushing on her, it warmed my heart to know that he had finally mustered up the courage to do such a thing. Even if I didn't know him that well.

"She rebuffed me. It's okay. I mean, she didn't have to say yes. She wasn't forced to do anything. In fact, I thought it was pretty admirable that she was honest with herself. And with me."

The feminist side of me agreed with him. It was unreasonable to expect Christine to go along with Rob's request; she was her own person with her own desires. But I couldn't help but feel angry about the whole situation. Rob wasn't like anyone else I knew. He really was unconventional.

"It still must stink, though. You've spent over five years being into her. What now?"

Rob smiled playfully, and I found my heart hammering against my chest as he popped out of the chair with acrobat-esque agility and crossed my room until he was standing right across from me.

"I've had a couple of ideas in mind," he said, his voice barely audible over my flurry of thoughts, my thrashing heart.

"You-you have?"

Friend. Friend. Friend.

I willed myself to plant this word firmly in my mind, but my efforts quickly dissipated into a blissful nothingness when he grabbed me gently but securely by my thin shoulders and pressed his lips on mine, closing his eyes while mine remained wide and very much open. Either he was an experienced kisser, or he had been playing this moment in his head for a long time, right down to the way his hands were clasped behind my back. I hoped for the latter to be true.

The flurry of thoughts I'd had was soon replaced by seemingly insignificant observations. Like how Rob was barely taller than I, a person of short stature already, was. Like how he had this light dusting of freckles on his nose and across his cheeks. Golly, those freckles were adorable.

He finally, but all-too-regrettably, pulled away as calculatedly as he had pulled in. I placed a hand to my heart and breathed, in and out, in and out.

"I've been wanting to do that," he said with a bashful smile. "For a while."

"But what about Christine? I thought—"

"I never liked her. Not really. It was always an appearance thing. I knew that two weeks ago." We started running lines together two weeks ago. I didn't bother hiding the smile. "When I asked her out today, it was more for me than it was for her. I wanted to see how I'd react to her answer. I didn't feel anything when she said no, so..."

Rob flashed me another smile, which sent butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach.

In turn, I absentmindedly began twirling one of his rusty locks. He had almost abnormally long hair; it stopped just short of his shoulders. I'd noticed it but never really paid attention to it before.

My parents weren't home. I was in my room with a boy who'd just kissed me with such precision I scarcely thought it happened.

All while I was just playing my part.