That was easy for him to say. He had a friend who’d show up to help him move on a Saturday. Caroline didn’t have a single person in her life who would have done that for her.
“Your position is noted, but I have things under control,” Caroline said, tucking her feet back beneath her.
“But you haven’t even looked into the other things Boston College has to offer. You should—”
The last word made her teeth ache and her back go ramrod straight.
“If I want you to tell me what I should do, I’ll ask you,” she snapped.
Adrian leaned away, lips curling in over his teeth. They stared at each other, the moment taut and still.
“I suppose I hardly seem to be an authority on good life choices,” he finally said, face shuttered.
Caroline dropped her shoulders, closing her eyes and groaning. “It’s not that. Idon’tthink you’re as much of a mess as you seem to think.”
Adrian didn’t respond, face still judging himself.
“Come on,” Caroline said. “It’s not so bad. I liked seeing your paintings this morning. And you just need to get a handle on the numbers behind your business before your life’s on track too.”
Adrian grunted noncommittally.
Caroline twisted in his direction, trying to be persuasive. “You don’t want to still be walking the streets at forty, do you?”
“No,” he snorted. “No, I do not.” He tipped his head back against the couch as he worked his jaw, deep in thought. Then he looked back over at her through his thick red lashes. “If I fill out one of your spreadsheets, willyou at least sign up forsomethingover at BC? Something you think you might like on its own merits?”
Adrian had obviously not had the advantage of taking a Principles of Negotiation seminar, or he would have recognized that he did not start from a very good bargaining position.
“Like what?” Caroline said with suspicion.
“Join a theater production,” Adrian said, gesturing vaguely. “Just go in and ask for a position on the technical side. They were always desperate for help when I was in undergrad. And the arts and sciences grad students put on a few productions a year.”
“I don’t see why I would.” If the business school students wouldn’t talk with her after class, it seemed even less likely that the arts and sciences students would be interested in her.
“The arts— Christ. I’m about to sound like a pretentious asshole. But people make art; they get involved in the arts because they have a passion for it. Because they feel something for it or because they want to communicate something important to someone else. If you want to know about art, or even if you just want to talk about it with someone, do it.”
“That’s how you feel?” she asked, curious. He hadn’t said a thing about his own art to her, not even the painting on the wall that he’d called an engagement present to his friend.
He looked at the floor. “I used to,” he said slowly.
She wished he’d explain that, but she wasn’t in a position to press him.
The standoff was quiet.
“Student theater though?” she finally asked, very reluctantly.
Adrian shrugged. “You seemed interested. It doesn’t have to be that.”
“I don’t know how to do anything technical,” she said, coming up with another objection.
“If you can carry boxes, you can be on the run crew.”
Caroline evaluated potential obstacles, planning it out in her mind. It was hard to imagine. She supposed the worst that could happen was that she’d go into the theater and they wouldn’t need any help. “I’ll do it if you fill outbothspreadsheets,” she bartered.
He exhaled. “Deal.”
Caroline nodded, flicking off the television even as the narrator promised more hair-raising facts about the common death adder. She’d watch it the next morning.
“So,” she prompted him again. “What are we doing tonight?”
