Back to the Street

“Next,” Mr. Hawthorn called from his seat, “Jade Collins.”

The theater hushed silence. Brent stood on his spot, mouth agape, as Jade confidently strut towards the stage. Nate and Ross were shocked, too. Katie simply giggled in her seat.

The recorded music started playing, and Ross ducked in his seat because, for the enth time that day, he had to hear his own voice sing the male parts of the song. It’s not that he sounded bad, no. He’s had Katie and his friends comment about his singing before. It just embarrassed him to have to repeatedly hear himself sing the whole afternoon.

“The light collects in your eyes,” Jade started after Ross’ last recorded line, “turns and reflects, it jumps into the night. I’m a slave to the sight.”

Ross shifted in his seat, turning around to look at his friends. Brent was still on the aisle, eyes mesmerized. Ross excused himself and walked, lanky figure crouched down as to not block anybody’s view, over to his friend.

“Keep it together, man!” Ross jokingly whisper-yelled, shaking Brent with his hand on Brent’s fore arms. Brent momentarily tore his gaze from the girl on stage to give his friend a look, to which Ross less amusedly replied, “Seriously, man. You looked like a fish.” Brent frowned because he knew that Ross knew how that was what Seth was most likely going to say if he were there. Ross frowned, too, reading through Brent’s sad orbs. He then let out an equally sad smile (Quite the contradiction, really, Ross often thought when in the situation.) and mumbled an equally small “come on” as he pushed Brent back to his seat with an equally weak force.

When they reached their area in the middle of the orchestra seats, Ross walked over to the empty seat beside Katie, which was to Nate’s right, which was beside Brent’s. Ross sat down, smiling softly at the girl to his left. She smiled back, whispering, “Well written, Mister George,” as she soundlessly clapped in a dainty fashion.

“Why, thank you, Miss Collins,” Ross bowed his head, “Poetry is best written when the words are deeply felt within.”

Jade’s voice returned, and their heads snapped back to the stage.

“…guess your touch could fill me with such thoughts to marry you, have your babies, too. Is it too good to be true?”

Ross looked to find Brent back in his trance, grinning goofily at the singer.

Looking thoughtful, Katie asked after a few more of Ross’ lines escaped the speakers, “May I ask, who’s the lucky girl?”

The question caught Ross off guard. They’ve only known each other (well, Katie did) for three weeks, and he really didn’t think now was the right time to tell her that he was thinking about her the whole time he wrote “It’s True Love” and “The Missing Piece” because, really, it could only ruin his chances at spending actual time with her. Ross gulped, trying to find an answer that wouldn’t give him away.

“Well, let’s just say that you know her very, very well.”

Katie looked at Ross and for a second there, he thought she finally got it. He thought that she finally got how her absence made him feel so damn lonely, especially now; how, because of her, his poems and songs got mushier and mushier, each more meaningful and deeper than the previous; how her mere presence sets loose those girly butterflies he hates so much, but had grown to find uplifting; how he wanted her to finally understand that he was the boy her dad told her about, the boy she had loved so damn much, so they could just have that clichéd happily ever after already.

But, for the enth time, Katie missed it.

Of course.

“I swear, Ross, if you’ve been writing about Jade…”

“I’d rather not have the most possible lead to kill me for being a bad friend, Katie,” Ross laughed along, hiding his disappointment.

“I can’t slow down; I’m scared I’m falling too fast. Adakias, can’t you see that I’m your first kiss? We were meant to be.”

“You’re close, though. Unbelievably close,” Ross said, unsure if Katie actually heard her.

“…your skin. Don’t you ever feel like you’ve been destined for something bigger than your skin?”

“I like that line,” Katie murmured to Ross, “the skin thing. Wonderful metonymy.”

“Thanks,” Ross murmured before cringing at his recorded screams. “Oh man, I hate that part.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad. But it’s not like you’ll be the one to perform it anyway, so…”

“Yeah,” Ross nodded.

“…It’s true love.” When Jade sang the last line, she grinned at the crowd. The students started to clap for her, just like they did for Brent, only louder.

“Oh, I have to get back to my seat,” Ross said as Mr. Hawthorn motioned for Jade to start her monologue.

“Now, why can’t you sing like that?” Nate asked Katie just as Ross stood up.

“She totally can, man,” Ross hurriedly told him in a low voice, “She just doesn’t know it. ‘Northern Downpour’.”

Nate’s mouth shaped itself into a small “o” as Ross returned to the aisle, patting Brent’s shoulder in the way, and back to his original seat in the front row beside their director.

As soon as Jade bowed when she finished her monologue, Katie, Brent, Nate, and Ross stood up, clapping and whooping and cheering for her. The people from the lunch table did, too, which caused everyone else to join in. Mr. Hawthorn nodded in approval, scribbling something down on the paper attached to his clipboard.

Ross gave Jade a thumbs-up as she descended the stage. She then ran up the aisle and into the arms of whichever friend decided to hug her first. Upon being clung unto by said friend, she was surprised to be lifted off her feet and swung around.

“My God, Jade!” Brent exclaimed as he let go, Jade’s feet planted firmly on the ground, “If you were the one who performed before me, I would’ve been scared shitless.”

Jade raised both eyebrows. That was probably the most intelligible sentence Brent had ever uttered to her since they met the previous Wednesday.

Katie noticed it, too, but then decided to just hug her cousin and proceed to squealing incoherently.

As Nate gave Jade a high-five, he saw a familiar figure finding its way out of the theater from his peripheral vision. He excused himself and followed suit, finding his way outside the auditorium.

Right outside the doors, Seth was seated on the hallway floor, leaning on the wall. Nate sat beside him, almost making him jump.

“Oh, hey, Nate.”

“What, no Walkman?” Nate asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’d thought I didn’t have rights to that nickname anymore,” Seth replied quietly, face down.

“What makes you think that?”

“Look at us,” Seth gestured between the two of them with his right hand, “We haven’t talked like this since last Tuesday. We’re drifting apart, Nate.”

“Hey, don’t say that.”

“How can I not?” Seth’s tone was frustrated as he fumbled with his hands, which were on his bent knees, “You guys look so content without me.”

“That’s probably the most not true thing I’ve heard you say, Seth.”

“You don’t know that,” Seth softly replied. With a sigh, Nate put a hand over Seth’s fidgeting hands and held them, making Seth look at him.

“Then at least believe me when I say we’re all dying without you,” his grip tightened.

Seth laughed disbelievingly. “Impossible,” Seth said, to which Nate frowned.

“Will you stop thinking that way, Seth?” Nate asked, dropping his hand.

“You try watching your friends have the time of their lives while you’re stuck with bitches who you’re trying to convince yourself are better than what you had!”

“Seth!” Nate took a hold of Seth’s fore arms, “We’re. Not. Happy,” Nate was kneeling in front of Seth now, shaking him with every word. Seth kept quiet, so Nate continued, “It wasn’t by much, but Brent lost some of his… Brent-ness. You know what I’m saying? Like that time last year when the Home Ec teacher’s daughter broke up with him. Remember what it was like when he was trying to get over Audrey, Seth? Remember?”

Seth could only nod, eyes glazed with guilt.

“And how do you think I’m taking this? It fucking hurts whenever I have to see you with those people—”

“—Brent does it all the time,” Seth deadpanned, interrupting.

“But you’re different! Brent goes to every table. You’re there because you’re mad at Ross and because you’re so fucking stubborn and Christ, Seth, I know you’re not happy,” Nate’s face had softened then. “Don’t even get me started on Ross.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Seth said coldly, making Nate heave another exasperated sigh.

“He’s the one taking it the worst, Seth. I swear, if Katie wasn’t around that day when—”

“—There it is again! Katie! It always has to be about her, doesn’t it?”

Nate’s frown grew deeper. “Seth, listen to me. You’re turning him suicidal.”

“…What?” it was barely above a whisper, but the bewildered look on Seth’s face was enough to give Nate that spark of hope that yes, they’ll make it through.

Yes, they’ll be able to fix it.

“Katie found a razor in Ross’ pencil case.”

“Great, three weeks and she’s already saving his scrawny ass. My fault he almost died, too. Clearly, I’m not needed,” Seth said, dejected.

“You’re not listening to me, Seth. Don’t you get it? He’s upset enough about losing you to think that he doesn’t deserve to live. He knows it’s his fault and it’s killing him because you don’t seem to want to forgive him.”

“That’s because I don’t,” Seth said, emotionless, looking at anything but Nate.

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh yeah? Tell me, Nate Walker, tell me why and prove me wrong. I fucking dare you to.”

Nate inhaled, exhaled, and took a moment before finally replying. “You’re in denial. You’re in fucking denial and you fucking know it, Seth James. You’re so obviously unhappy with who you’re with now, and you sure as hell aren’t happy about how we seem to be content without you, either. Tell me, Seth, how much does Ross mean to you?”

“Did.” Seth’s tone was stern, striking blue eyes equally icy.

Nate sighed again. “Fine. How much did he mean to you?”

Seth looked down. “You honestly think I need to explain?”

The corners of Seth’s mouth dropped further, and Nate knew that was his cue to pull Seth in for a hug. Seth clung on tight, shaking, arms around Nate’s neck and head on the crook. It was on that spot between his neck and shoulder, near the collarbone, but not quite. They’ve hugged like this several times before, and Seth’s forehead had always rested on that perfect spot.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Nate cooed, stroking Seth’s light brown locks, “We’ll have this fixed. You want it to be, he wants it to be, and I want it to be.”

Seth sniffled. “What if it doesn’t work out?” he whimpered.

“Hey,” Nate said, lifting Seth’s head from its spot and bringing their foreheads together, cupping his tear-stained cheeks. “I’ll help Ross apologize to you, okay?” Seth’s blue bore into Nate’s brown, which seemed to have shined gold, blending into a frosted caramel. “You’ll be friends again before you even know it.” Another stray tear escaped Seth, and Nate let a thumb brush the droplet off Seth’s lightly freckled cheek.

“You think so?” Despite the sniffle Seth once again let out, his eyes screamed “hope”.

Nate broke into a broad grin. “I know so.”

Seth could only find the smile contagious.

Before he could even come to the realization that OHMYFUCKINGGOD, Nate’s face is barely an inch away, Nate patted Seth’s cheek and stood up, saying, “Well, we have to get back. Who knows who we missed?” a hand offered to help Seth stand.

He gladly took it, and followed his best friend back into the auditorium.

Just as Seth got back to his friends, Greta was getting on her way back from the stage, William already ascending it.

“You did not just miss Greta audition,” Hayley said, eyes wide. Greta was throwing Seth a glare that could compete with his trademark bitchface.

“Oh come on,” Gabe said, defending his almost-cousin, “it’s not like they were officially dating anyway. He missed my audition, and I’m his cousin.”

Besides, Seth thought to himself, Nate always meant more to me, anyway.