ACT 3, SCENE 1

December was spent finishing applications to all Ivy League and UC schools as well as a couple safeties. Aarav dreaded coming home to see his parents. The air was cold despite the roaring fireplace, the flames burning bright reds and oranges. They simply set down their bags for the servants to carry away and went to their rooms without a word of acknowledgement. Aarav's grip on the stairwell tightened while he moved to let them pass before walking to his room. He hadn't missed it—the lingering disappointment in both pairs of eyes when they walked passed him. The weight of failed expectations hung in the air.

February steadily passed and accompanying the approaching May was the weight of college decisions. National decision day. At least Jackie's Lunar New Year celebration served as a fleeting distraction. Aarav had chosen to throw himself in drama rehearsals. The possibility of Stanford was two months away and he needed to ensure the best possible chance of winning nationals. Winning Center Stage could be the boost his application needed. 

By the time Aarav made his way to the theater auditorium, some of the tension had dissipated. There was still an uneasy pit in his stomach, but that was to be expected. As usual, he was early and no one else had arrived—probably dawdling and catching up with friends. The doors burst open moments later, making him turn to see a flustered Jackie stumbling in.

"Ahhhh, sorry for being late!" Her face was still red from the run and a couple stray hairs had escaped her ponytail. 

"You're early." 

"I am? That's not what it says on the clock." 

That was exactly what it said on the clock. 

"So you can't do math and you can't read time." Aarav shook his head in amusement. 

Jackie huffed and stuck out her tongue at him. "You're a jerk." 

"Well, this jerk says you need to get changed for rehearsal."

"Right." She undid the red ribbon and shook out her hair so that it fell in a half-straight, half-wavy mess around her shoulders. She handed the ribbon to him. 

"Keep it safe."

Aarav tucked it into the pocket of his blazer. "Got it."

"Don't lose it like Peter Kavinsky did with the scrunchie."

"Point taken." 

Jackie skipped off to the dressing rooms and Aarav busied himself with looking over the script. Briefly he wondered if he could remove the kiss but that would lead to the scene lacking impact. He sighed and adjusted his glasses. The girl had said she could handle it, but he wasn't quite okay with having her kiss the same guy who used her for a bet. Liam might've played many Prince Charming-type characters but he was far from a gentleman. 

He was self-centered, yes, but not cruel. It wasn't that he intended to hurt others out of malice; he hurt them because he was only occupied with himself. When it came down to reality, Liam wasn't the dashing prince or wicked villain. He was just a high school teenager, trying to survive like everyone else. Just one that was a little too thoughtless. 

The rest of the cast and crew began filing in and soon rehearsals commenced. In Aarav's eyes, it was a disaster. Too many mistakes. He was being harsh, he knew, but he couldn't help it. Not when the theater department's reputation was at stake. They couldn't come so far just to lose now.

And then came to run through the dreaded kiss scene. He caught Jackie's wide eyes under the spotlight staring at him from across the auditorium. He swallowed hard and waved a hand. 

"We can stop right there. You two don't need to do the kiss right now. Let's just move on." 

A strange look settled on Liam's face while Jackie breathed a sigh of relief. She scurried off the stage for the next actors to take their place. She found her place at his side, absently twisting a lock of hair around her finger. Normally she'd be playing with her ribbon but Aarav had it and she was wearing Astoria's gold circlet with her blue dress.  

"How are you feeling?" he ventured cautiously.

"I would've been fine going through with it. I'll do it for the real performance." She sighed a little. "But I'm glad I didn't have to." 

"We can just rehearse it later."

"You aren't worried about getting it perfect?"

He was, but it wasn't about to prioritize that over his friend's discomfort. "Don't worry about it." 

When rehearsal ended, Aarav caught Jackie as she was exiting the dressing room. She was back in her usual clothes with her hair down. He held out the red ribbon. 

She smiled a little. "You didn't lose it."

"When have I ever?" 

"Never."

"Exactly."

She craned her neck to look up at him. "Can you give me a ride to work?"

"Sure thing." 

They walked side by side, Aarav keeping his pace slower for her to keep up. She reached up to tie her hair back in a ponytail. She chewed her lip and was silent for a moment.

"What is it?" 

"Just glad to see you again." She shrugged. "I wanted to text you over break."

"You could've."

"I figured you were busy. I didn't want to bother you."

"Fair enough. I finished all my college applications."

"You hear back from Stanford?"

"My application's been moved to the regular decision round. I won't know until May."

"You'll get in this time." Her smile brightened.

"How do you know that?" Aarav laughed softly, despite himself. Her presence had a soothing effect on everything, like waves smoothing out the hard edges. His gaze settled on her for a moment and he swallowed hard before looking away. 

"I just do."

When he exited the theater, he saw Liam standing in the distance, glowing under the sunlight. The words caught in his throat and Aarav debated walking up to them. Ever since the fateful day in the locker room, they avoided eye contact and hadn't said a word. He inhaled a deep breath but the stirring in his chest refused to dissipate. 

He closed his eyes and for a moment, Aarav could believe they were still five years old, and it was kindergarten recess. He laid on the ground, having just been shoved in the dirt by a gang of older kids who kicked him, telling him his skin looked strange or demanding he speak English. Aarav had curled up in a ball, trying to make himself invisible, when there was a loud thud and the attacks stopped. Liam had jumped at the other boys and fought them back. Popular Liam who was king of the playground and loved by everyone. Liam who had come to his defense.  

In fifth grade, when they played in the treehouse in his backyard, they scraped their fingers against the bark until they bled red. The two pressed their fingers against a sheet of paper, marking the white with blood prints. Scribbled in sloppy, sloping letters was an oath that they'd be friends forever. It was then that Liam Sinclair made Aarav realize that anything was possible with that gleaming white smile that promised the world. 

Adjusting his glasses, Aarav shifted his bag. He ran a finger over his knuckles. Not a stretch, not a trace of the memory. Before he could change his mind, the strode across the parking lot over to the blond. Liam who defended him from playground bullies. Liam who promised to be his friend forever. Liam who toyed with girls and made stupid bets. 

Maybe some relationships weren't simple convenience. Aarav realized then, seeing clearer than ever, that he didn't want to lose his friend. So he clamped down his pride and decided to apologize. 

At his footsteps, Liam turned around and his eyes widened. His expression was unreadable except for the slight surprise. "What do you want?" 

Cold, mechanical. So unlike Liam. So like him. Aarav glanced away and fidgeted with his glasses. After pushing them up and down his nose, he slipped them off, his glasses acting as a filter for reality.

"Why did you take off your glasses?" Liam cocked his head.

"You look better this way." No, wait, he came over to apologize. He was doing a terrible job already. Aarav sighed and straightened his shoulders. "I came to say sorry."

"You're kidding."

"No." Aarav shook his head. "I'm sorry for hitting you. There's no excuse for that and I never should've lost my temper like that."

Liam stared at him. His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. His eyebrows furrowed and he rubbed his neck. 

"You don't need to say anything." Aarav's gaze shifted to the ground before he forced himself to make eye contact. His throat was dry and his throat strained. "You deserve an apology."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I am sorry." His voice softened and he faced his former friend. He'd swallowed his pride and it was the most bitter thing he'd ever tasted. Aarav decided that he'd refrain from screwing up again. After a moment, he turned to leave. It didn't matter if Liam accepted his apology or not. Apologies were an admission of regret. If Aarav only apologized with the intention of gaining forgiveness, then it wasn't genuine.

"Wait." 

Aarav stopped. The gusts of wind, carrying the sharp and sweet scent of pines, ran over his face, his hair. The cold sting his nose and cheeks. He remained in place at the sound of approaching footsteps and inclined his head. Liam's hand lingered on his shoulder.  

"It's okay." Liam's voice was warm and comforting yet clear in the whirling winds. His skin was pale, almost translucent, the winter having stolen all trace of summer's tan. His nose straight without any bumps or redness from fracture. Then he smiled, the same smile from when they were young, the one full of stars and possibilities. 

"I guess I have to apologize too," Liam said after a moment.

"It's Jackie who needs it." Aarav shook his head. He struggled to reconcile the friend he knew then and the friend he knew now. The Liam who had his back through everything and the Liam who toyed with hearts were one and the same. A person who wasn't so black and white. 

The earnestness in Liam's eyes made made Aarav smile in return. For all his faults and flaws, he was willing to correct them. It seemed senior year was a compilation of mistakes and apologies for everyone.

. . .

Jackie shifted her weight from foot to foot. Má was beside her, one of the parents who volunteered to chaperone their trip to New York. The money had come through. The scholarships and carnival fundraising managed to replace the lost money from the missing sponsors. And now here she was, at an airport for the first time. 

Steel walls curved around them with beams that supported numerous windows. People flowed from check-in desks to cafes and through the gates pulling behind luggage. Advertisement boards hung overhead along with banners indicating fast food restaurants and souvenir shops. The air smelled of bitter coffee and sweet cinnamon rolls. 

Jackie's fingers traced over the numbers on her ticket. Her first time heading to New York. It'd been a faraway dream, a fairytale theatre hub with Broadway. 

"Do you want to check out the shops?" Má inclined her head. 

"Why not?" A tiny smile flickered across Jackie's lips. Her long black hair had been tamed into two French braids, courtesy of her mother. Her usual red hair ribbon was tied around her left wrist next to her usual jade bangle. 

They walked side by side, a lulling silence settling between them. Jackie had no clue what to say. How could she make conversation when the giddiness of the upcoming competition circled her stomach? She twisted the ends of her red hair ribbon. They stepped into a perfume store, and she picked up a random bottle for the sake of having something to do with her hands. 

"What about this scent?" Má spritzed a scent on her wrist before checking a pink glass container. 

A thick heavy scent of vanilla enveloped her. Jackie scrunched up her face in thought. "You smell like a bakery."

She set down the purple glass bottle she'd been toying with after an employee shot her a dirty look. With nervous laughter, she wiped her palms off her skirt, and wandered into a bookstore after her mother. The shelves were filled with mass-market paperbacks brandishing generic bright-colored covers. Superficially entertaining romance stories Jackie hungrily gulped down without a second thought. A non-guilty pleasure. 

Má dug through her purse for a credit card, already anticipating Jackie to want one. She was well-accustomed to Jackie's habit of collecting love stories. At home, her bookshelf was beginning to overflow and some books, worn and weathered, were stacked on the ground against the wall. Still, no matter how much her mother sighed and told her to read something 'educational,' she indulged her. And Jackie still refused to donate her collection, regardless of how many times she reread a novel. 

As predicted, Jackie found one to her liking. An enemies-to-lovers high school fiction set in New York. Má clicked her tongue, following after her. "You can't always bury your nose in books." 

Jackie hugged the paperback to her chest and scurried to the cash register. No thanks. After Liam, she decided that books were enough of an experience for her. Romance novels were safe—the genre practically guaranteed a happy ending. 

Má reached out and tapped her forefinger against Jackie's forehead. "So starry-eyed. Nothing but daydreams up in that mind of yours."

"Books are different, you know," her mother continued. "Give life a chance every now and then." 

Jackie giggled and fluttered her eyes when her mother slid a shiny credit card over the counter to the cashier. But even as the receipt printed and the book was bagged, a strange feeling settled in her stomach. She dismissed it as nervousness but it refused to leave even after they boarded the plane.

. . .

Aarav set his bags down on the hotel floor and leaned against the wall. Gods, they were in New York, about to perform on a national stage. Tomorrow was to be used for sightseeing and last-minute rehearsal, then their performance was scheduled for Sunday. He wasn't even performing and already anxiousness edged into his chest, digging deep like a knife. Center Stage was his last chance to prove to Stanford that he was worth accepting, an award to give his application a greater edge. 

And the last chance to prove to his parents that theatre was a worthwhile extracurricular. 

Unlike his peers, Aarav hadn't arrived at the airport surrounded by parents and siblings. He'd stood in silence at boarding when families hugged their children in overexaggerated displays of affection. In contrast, I love you had never been in his parents' repertoire.

Aarav glanced at his phone. Three hours after the plane landed, the family group chat was full of texts asking if he'd eaten yet. He rolled his eyes. 

Setting his phone on the nightstand, he zipped open his suitcase and started to unpack. Shirts and pants rolled up to save space. A bag containing a toothbrush and toothpaste. Soap. Extra jackets.

And an elephant.

With a furrowed brow, Aarav picked up the stuffed animal. At the ear was his telltale crooked stitching. Taped to the back was a note from his sister in her best cursive.

Flappy came with you for good luck.

His lips quirked into a smile. I love you's had no purpose. What was the point anyway? He wasn't stirred by an undying need to proclaim his love nor was his family. Not when he had Flappy the elephant by his side. Aarav tucked the animal back into the suitcase. Aadhira would never forgive him if it went missing. 

"What's supposed to go in here?" Liam twisted open a random cabinet, brushing away the layer of dust. 

"Your firstborn child," Aarav snarked. He zipped up his luggage and slid it under the bed frame. Tensions between them had been smoothed over, but there were an unsteadiness between them. 

Liam flopped face-down on the bed across from his. He grabbed a pillow and buried his face in it. "I'm exhausted."

"You know those bed spreads tend to be dirty, right?" Aarav yanked the comforter off his own bed and opened the spare sealed bag of linens the hotel provided. 

"Mhmm, don't care." Liam turned over to face him. "Think we'll see a Broadway show tomorrow?" 

"Doubtful." He scoffed while tucking the sheets under the mattress. Grabbing a blanket he'd packed, he spread it over the bed and smoothed out the wrinkles. 

"I wish we could see Cats."

A strangled noise escaped Aarav's throat. "I will never be able to watch it without thinking of the movie." 

"Oh come on!" Liam chucked a pillow at his face, which he ducked.

Aarav hurled the pillow back. "My apologies, I have no wish to see humanoid cats." 

"We should put on our own version of Cats."

"Yes, and you can kidnap kittens to use in the performance." 

"Really?" Liam's eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. 

"No!" Aarav flung another pillow at him.

"Please?" 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and prepared more ammunition. "Is this really the hill you want to die on? I'm more than happy to arrange that." 

"Okay, okay!" The blond held his hands up in surrender.