Page 2 of Curtain Call
“Sad.”
Their friendship has always been close, and being from a medium-sized high school, they were quite the talk of the school. Speculation had it that they were either secretly having sex, or they were hiding something. Go to find out their junior year, they were both hiding something that they never shared with anyone, not even Riley.
One night during a rehearsal for their high school spring play, Colin and Mac made a pact to date for one hour, and then at the end of the hour, they would break up. That way they could tell people that they dated when asked, but it just didn’t work out. Pinky promises were made and after an hour was up, Colin sent a text to Mac.
Colin: I don’t think this is going to work out. Just friends?
Mac: How dare you break up with me through text. I thought I meant more to you than that.
Colin: You will always have a special place in my heart.
Mac:
Colin:
“Wehave a lunch date, remember?” Mac pulls her phone back out of her bag and starts tapping the screen. Forever the organized note taker.
Remember? How could Colin forget that he agreed to this? Lunch with Riley after they pick him up at the train station in Boston. He’s only been ghosted for four years. Technically they kind of ghosted each other. No dramatic falling out. No reality TV drama. The phone calls were further apart, and the text messages became one-word notes. Slowly it moved from one-word notes to a series of memes they would just send each other. Riley became a big star and lived a glamorous life while Colin was the new owner of the theater trying to pick up the shards of his shattered life.
Heading toward the door, “Wait,” they both stop as Mac puts her hand on Colin’s shoulder to pivot him, “New shirt?” She pokes his shoulder in the same teasing manner.
“No, I bought it on sale a couple of weeks ago.”
“So…new shirt?”
“Shut up,” he grabs his long tan wool coat that was lying across the concession stand counter before making his way out the door.
Driving to South Station in Boston, Mac scrolls through her phone while Colin drives his responsible Jeep Grand Cherokee. It still has the new car smell although he’s had it for a year. He acts too mature sometimes for someone so young, single, and fairly good-looking. Most guys his age would be in a sports car or something more head-turning. For Colin, those kinds of cars weren’t practical. He likes having the extra room for camping trips, hauling equipment for the theater, and perhaps someday a family.
Meanwhile, Mac is filling Colin in from Riley’s multiplatform social media accounts.
“Look how happy he is on the tour bus with his crew,” Mac says gleefully while shoving her phone in Colin’s line of view.
Colin has an account for the theater but deleted his personal one a couple of years ago. It was too painful seeing Riley living his life. A life that no longer included him.
Tilting his head to the left to see around her hand, “I’m driving and don’t want us to -,” he trailed off before finishing the sentence.
Mac knows. She always knows. She places her hand on his thigh and gives it a little squeeze.
“He looks really happy,” Colin admits, “but-“
“But whaaat?” Mac’s drawing out the vowel in her condescending tone bites Colin harder than intended.
“Look at the picture you just showed me and tell me if you notice anything?”
“Um, besides he lost a ton of weight?” she scrunches her face while trying to figure out what Colin noticed.
It was Riley’s eyes. They were always full of life, even in pictures. Here they seemed hollow. Like when you don’t sleep for a few days because you're worried about something, or your mind won’t let you rest because it’s going a hundred miles a minute.
“I guess,” Colin responded and didn't want to speculate based on things from the past.
“Nervous?” Mac changes the subject because she knows what Colin is referencing deep down. She drops her phone in her bag that is on the floorboard next to her feet and intertwines her fingers with his.
“A little.”
It’s been four years and they both have very different lives now. Well, Riley has a different life, different friends, probably a boyfriend - he’s always had a boyfriend since coming out their sophomore year - and a world in which Colin doesn’t fit in anymore. Not that Colin doesn’t want to fit in, it’s just his family's theater is here, and Riley is either in New York or on a tour bus. NYC is only a few hours by train but running the small theater is a full-time job, and then some.
“It’ll be good to see him after all these years,” Colin whispers not sure whom he is trying to convince, himself or Mac. Maybe if he says it out loud, Colin will start to believe it.
