Page 84 of Even in the Dark

“Your knee’s shaking… Sure you’re okay?”

I still my leg, but it takes all my concentration. Makes me sweat even more. Pretty sure the back of my shirt is drenched. My heartbeat starts doing that thing where it feels like it’s gonna burst right through my ribcage. Makes it even harder to breathe.

The music starts up again. Upbeat drums. Thumping bass.

It’s better. Sort of. Only all I can think about now is how they’re gonna turn the lights out in between every goddamn number. And no way I’m sitting through another hour of this. Two hours, since there’s more after intermission.

“Gotta use the bathroom,” I whisper to Phil, getting to my feet before he can say anything.

People in the row whisper at me as I walk in front of them to get to the aisle. I catch Phil getting to his feet too… Scarlett saying something to him. Phil sitting back down.

I burst through the doors at the back of the auditorium into the lobby area. Empty, thank fuck.

I gulp in air like I just crawled out of a wind tunnel. Let my body slide down the wall next to the door, raking my left hand through my hair.

“You alright there, son?”

I glance up. Some old guy behind the confection counter is looking over at me with this worried expression.

I give him a thumbs up. Still having a hard time breathing, so it’s the best I got. He keeps watching me. Comes towards me a couple minutes later with a bottle of water, just as the auditorium door opens and Scarlett appears.

“Did you see a tall blond guy come out a second ago?” she asks Water Guy. Then follows his gaze down to where I’m sitting on the wide black-and-white marble tiles, knees bent, head tipped back against the wall.

Her footsteps still. “I’ve got it.” She takes the bottle from him. “Thanks.” She slides down next to me.

“He gonna be okay?” Water Guy asks.

“He’ll be fine… He’s a bit claustrophobic. So all the crowds, you know…” Scarlett tells him. “He just needed a breather.”

Glad she picked up on that issue and not the fact that I’m practically a grown-ass man afraid of the dark.

“Okay, well, give me a holler if you need anything.” He makes his way even farther across the atrium towards the ticket booth, where a couple of women are standing behind the counter.

It’s just Scarlett and me now, and the low thrum of the music seeping through the auditorium doors. We sit there saying nothing for a bit. I’m sure she can tell my breathing is shot to hell right now, but she doesn’t mention it. Makes me twice as grateful. First, for getting rid of Water Guy. And now, for not prying.

“I told you these recitals are deadly,” she finally says, taking a swig from the water bottle then offering it to me.

The corner of my lip twitches upwards because, fuck me, I wasn’t expecting that. Was gearing up for a question pile-up I’m not ready to deal with right now.

“The worst,” I breathe out. Then take a couple swigs of water. Drop my head back against the wall. Focus on inhaling.

“Seb’s dad forked up most of the money to re-furbish this theater,” Scarlett says. “It was totally run down for years… It used to be an opera house or something. Graham would come here every few days when they were renovating and sometimes Seb and I would tag along. We were maybe thirteen. Old enough that he left us alone the whole time he was talking to the foreman or whoever, so we had free rein to explore.” She glances over at me, her eyes scanning my face. “You want me to shut up?”

I shake my head. Her low-key reminiscing is helping distract me from the weight against my chest making it so hard to suck in full breaths. She takes the water from me and sips from it, hands it back, then resumes telling me about the stuff she and Seb got up to here when they were younger. The rooms they foundwith old costumes, dusty but mostly intact, all the weird props, vintage posters, huge cracked painted backdrops…

She tilts her head towards me, still tipped back against the wall. “Let me know when you’re feeling up for it,” she says, eyes wide and conspiring. “I’m going to show you something seriously awesome.”

I take the water from her and down a few long gulps. “Something better than the pine nut muffins?”

“Way better.” She grins.

“Give me a few minutes,” I tell her, and she motions with her chin towards the auditorium doors.

“We’ve got fifty minutes until intermission. And a whole hour after that. No rush.” She pulls out her phone. “I’m going to text Phil and let him know we’re just chilling for a while, so he doesn’t start worrying and come looking for you.”

I don’t say anything. Fucking embarrassing that she knows he checks up on me every fifteen minutes. Worries if I’m not where I say I’m going to be. Stresses if I’m not within eyesight.

She sends a quick text, her thumbs flying across the screen in a way that is so frantic I can’t watch for more than a couple seconds. I go back to staring at the massive chandelier dripping from the ceiling. Will away the weight that’s eased up a bit, but is still fucking stifling. My breaths still sound like I came up from a deep-sea dive.

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