The Brandywine Prophet

5.2 Young Love

“Damnit,” she said. “Shit.”

Chase turned around and eyed the vulgar girl. Her head was down. The strap of her white dress hung across her chest, pulling down the corner of her top and exposing the side of her chest. “Ave Maria” began playing over the speakers. No one was on stage.

“Oh shit, oh shit!” said the girl again. Her hands fumbled over the broken strap.

Chase grabbed the phone. “April May? Hold this song. Wardrobe malfunction. Jump to number three-six-two, ‘The Garden.’” Chase dropped the phone, bolted past the damsel in distress and shouted, “Three-six-two? ‘The Garden?’ Hello? Three-six-two? Ladies?” A girl’s head poked from the group of anxious girls like a prairie dog. “You’re up, sweetheart,” Chase said and the girl scrambled to the front lines.

“Damnit, I’m so sorry,” Janie said when Chase returned. She bit the falling strap and her elbow bent across her head as she tried to keep her chestnut hair away from the problem area. 

The girl finally tilted her head and caught Chase with the brownest eyes he had ever seen. They were huge. They sparkled; they literally sparkled. She had freckles on her face, not heavy freckles, but a light scatter that was elegantly mirrored across the exposed side of her chest. The way the strap hung from her lips was adorable. Across her left cheek--

“Hello? A little help?” she said.

Chase was staring. “Of course,” he stuttered. “Hold the strap right here. I’ve got this.” He put his arm around Janie’s back and led the little mess to his podium. He deftly flipped open the plastic bin marked “Stage Manager” and removed a small container marked “First Aid.”

“I’m not sick. My strap’s broken.”

“It’s where I keep my-- Ah, there we go.” Chase held up the Holy Grail of dance supplies, a silver safety pin. 

April May called the next act but Chase barely noticed. “Five, six, seven, eight,” he instinctively mouthed and pinched open the needle.

“Wha’d you say?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“You whispered something.”

“Hold your hair back. I’ll be careful.”

“You poke me with that, I’ll have you fired.”

Chase held the pin between his lips. “You ‘eem ‘ressed.”

“Huh?”

He pulled out the pin and poked it through the bottom strap. “I said, you seem stressed. Hand me the other half.” Janie pulled the strap from her lips and Chase took it gently in his fingers. Her skin was smooth. He shuttered when his hand brushed her shoulder.

“I’m never like this,” she said.

“Like what?”

“Stressed. I’m never like this.”

“Happens all the time.”

“I heard my name. The strap fell off--”

“Better now than on stage, eh?”

“--and my song started playing.”

“’Ave Maria.’ Good choice.”

“I know.”

“The pin is tight but I’ll add one more to be safe. You don’t want to flash the whole auditorium.”

“There is no auditorium.”