Caroline stretched, then took an elastic band off herwrist to tie her hair back into a short half ponytail. The motion did interesting things to her chest. Adrian closed his eyes. Caroline saw his expression but mistook the reason for it.
“This must be hard for you,” she said sympathetically.
Adrian nodded without opening his eyes, hoping that his expression suggested a reason other than the beautiful woman in the driver’s seat.
Boston’s drivers were shocking in their disregard of their city’s traffic ordinances, nowhere more so than on Storrow Drive. Caroline silently judged them as they merged without signaling, passed her on the right, and used their horns as communication signals. Adrian was quiet in the passenger seat next to her, hands white-knuckled around his coffee, face tilted resolutely out the window. Maybe he got easily carsick, or maybe he was just upset about putting a pin in his relationship. Either way, she felt for him.
His roommate was as upbeat as Adrian was dour though. Tom looked like he was about Adrian’s age, shorter and more muscular, with dark brown eyes beaming at her from under thick black eyebrows. With Adrian silent, Caroline tried to strike up a conversation with Tom as she laboriously made her way east toward Logan Airport.
“Adrian tells me you’re a waiter at a Greek restaurant?”
“Is that what he said?” Tom replied, voice full of faux outrage. “I suppose, in a literal sense, I am. But I’m also an actor.”
An actor! That was exciting. She’d never met an actor before.
“Oh, what kind?” Caroline asked.
“Stage,” Adrian answered for him. “He’s been on Broadway.”
It took Caroline a few seconds to process that she was meeting an actualBroadwayactor. This was excellent news. Adrian had been a great choice.
“I was in a Broadway productiononce,” Tom said, good-humored about it. “That blessed situation did not recur. Hence the waiting of tables. In Boston.”
“Well, I’m still impressed,” Caroline told him. “Are you going to be in anything soon?”
“That’s entirely at the discretion of our city’s casting directors. I have two auditions next week. Are you interested in the theater?”
“Absolutely. I mean, in terms of going to it. Not being in it. Although the only play I’ve seen in person I was also in—my high school put onWest Side Storymy freshman year. I was one of the girl Jets.”
Tom laughed. “That counts! You should try it again.”
“Oh, no,” Caroline objected, thinking back to that month. She’d been able to try out only because she was recovering from a sprained wrist, and even then her father hadn’t liked the distraction from tennis. “I was completely terrible. I can’t act. The theater teacher said he bet the show had never had a Jet with such a thick Texas accent before.”
“I bet you were an adorable girl Jet,” Tom said. “You don’t want to go back?”
“Mmm, nothing stopping me but my complete lack of talent,” Caroline said, looking to Adrian for her exit as they approached the airport. He gestured at her to turn north toward East Boston.
“You don’t need talent to be part of the theater,” Tom said. “Adrian doesn’t have any talent, and he still helped with most of my shows.”
Adrian turned away from the window long enough to glare at his roommate.
Caroline tried to guess in what capacity Adrian had been involved. “Set design?” she guessed.
“I did the art for the promotional posters and the programs,” Adrian said, still sounding unamused. His stiff answer kicked Caroline and Tom both into giggles.
“Maybe next semester,” Caroline told Tom. “But Adrian and I are going to see a musical soon.”
As Tom congratulated her on that, they turned off 1A to a neighborhood of neat colonial houses north of the airport. Adrian directed her to an open stretch of curb long enough for her to drive in, so her parallel parking abilities went untested.
“You can wait with the car, if you’d like,” Adrian said when he climbed out and began unloading packing supplies. “This shouldn’t take long.”
“I don’t mind going in to help carry things,” Caroline said. “I’m okay at walking when I’m not in heels.” She pointed at one of her big white athletic shoes.
Adrian opened his mouth to object again, but Tom beat him to the punch.
“Let the lady work! It’ll go much faster with three people,” Tom said, draping an arm supportively around Caroline’s shoulders. “Besides, she looks like she could pick me up and carry me if it came to that.” He waggled his eyebrows at her lasciviously, like he wanted her to try.
Adrian’s mouth curved down sharply in response, but he led them to a large gray-shingled house halfway down the block and approached the front door.
