Ren shook their head, sunk down onto the couch. Iris stayed put, her heart thrumming too fast despite her attempts at deep breaths.
“I didn’t want to do this,” Ren said. “I kept watching for signs that she’d told you, but it’s obvious she hasn’t and I didn’t know if I’d see you again after tonight. Then it’d be too late.”
“What would be too late?” Iris said, her voice razor-sharp. She got bitchy when she got anxious, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to help it right now.
Ren tented their fingers between their splayed legs. “Stevie’s been asked to play Rosalind inAs You Like Itnext summer in New York.”
Iris blinked. “She...”
“For Shakespeare in the Park at the Delacorte Theater.”
A buzzing sounded in Iris’s ears, like a tiny bomb exploding.
“September first is the deadline to accept,” Ren said. “I don’t have to tell you what a huge deal this is.”
“September first,” Iris said. She suddenly didn’t recognize her own voice. It had gone feathery, barely solid.
Ren nodded. “Two days from now.”
Iris all but fell onto the pilly gray chair across from the couch. “How... She... Why didn’t she tell me?”
Ren tilted their head. “She’d have to live in New York, at least from January when rehearsals start through the end of July. She’d have to leave everything. Everyone.”
Iris dropped her head into her hands, mind swirling at everything Ren seemed to be implying.
“When,” she asked, not looking up.
“When what?”
“When was she asked.”
Ren was quiet for a second. “Last month. That Black woman who was at the Empress a while back? That’s Thayer Calloway, Stevie’s favorite professor at Reed. She’s the one directing at the Delacorte next summer.”
That was the day they’d first slept together, after line dancing at Stella’s and Jenna. Stevie had known this for nearly six weeks and hadn’t said a damn thing. A myriad of emotions spilled into Iris’s chest. Hurt, anger, excitement, fear, pride—a confusing blend she couldn’t even begin to parse.
“Anyway,” Ren said. “If I were in your position, and a person I loved got a life-changing opportunity, I’d... well, I’d want to know.”
Iris looked up, that one word hooking around her lungs.
Love.
Shit.
Did she... Did Stevie...
She swallowed around the knot in her throat and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for telling me.”
“I’m sorry the timing sucks.”
Iris waved a hand. She needed Ren to leave. She needed to think, to cry, to fucking scream until the neighbors banged on the wall for her shut up.
“I’ll see you in a few hours?” Ren asked, standing up.
And Iris could only nod as Ren left, wondering what the hell she was going to say to Stevie when she saw her, how she was going to look her in the eyes.
She wandered back to the bed, staring down at her laptop, all thoughts of Tegan and Briony like nebulous vapor right now. No way she could get back to writing. She could barely even breathe.
Love.
