Chapter 1

Richard trudged the distance from State to his dorm on the Tech hill campus. He unlocked his door and stepped inside.

“Where have you been?” his roommate asked.

“Why, Brian -- is today your day to watch me?”

“Just curious...”

“I was over at State at the Theatre Guild. They’re auditioning for the Guild’s fall play.”

“At State?”

“Yeah -- I can fulfill a humanities elective here by participating in the play there -- either as cast or crew.”

“What play?” Brian asked.

“Thornton Wilder’s ‘Our Town’,” Richard replied.

“Is that the one with the bare stage and the stepladders?”

“That’s the one.”

“I remember reading it in ninth grade,” Brian replied. “I’ve never seen it performed.”

“Well ... come to the performance, then. They have three evening performances and a Saturday matinee. Tech and State students get in free with IDs. Our final grades are based on how we perform.”

“Assuming you get a part,” Brian remarked.

“Yeah -- assuming that. Otherwise, I’ll be backstage crew ... or, I’ll need to find an elective here and the Humanities department is hardly Tech’s strong suit.”

“So, how did the audition go? What part were you auditioning for?”

“No part,” Richard replied. “Trent had me read several lines.”

“Who’s Trent?”

“Professor Trent Lockwood, the State drama prof. Everyone calls him Trent.”

“State’s such a touchy-feely place,” Brian remarked. “Just try calling Dr Markovych by his given name.”

“Igor? Right ... Hey, guess who I ran into over there.”

“I hate these guessing games. Who?”

“Crystal Greer.”

“Isn’t she the one you were trying to date all last term?” Richard’s roommate asked.

“The one and the same. I had no idea she was interested in theatre. We’re in the same Calc class and were last term. Since we’re both interested in drama -- maybe that will give me a in with her.”

The bell signaling the end of the period sounded. Richard packed his papers into his backpack and headed out the door. “Crystal,” he called, “wait up.”

He approached a coed of medium height and build with green eyes and coarse and curly chestnut hair. Her hair was styled in an informal shaggy cut that fell past her shoulder blades. Crystal’s face was oval, almost rectangular with a strong jawline, high cheekbones, full lips and upturned nose. Her complexion was peaches-and-cream with a pattern of faint freckles under her eyes and across her nose. She was wearing a knee-length denim skirt, navy knee socks and an over-sized Tech tee shirt the arms of which came nearly to her elbows.

“What do you want, Richard?” she asked petulantly.

“I thought I saw you at the Theatre Guild last night.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you were there, too.”

“I had no idea you were interested in theatre,” he remarked.

“I had no idea you were interested, either -- so that makes two of us.”

“It means we have something in common,” he replied.

“If you’re about to ask me to go out with you, the answer is no.” Richard let out an exasperated sigh. “Why do you persist in ... pestering me for a date?”

“Because you persist in saying no,” he replied. “I don’t like taking no as an answer.”

“So, you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t know the meaning of the word,” she retorted.

“I know when no means no. I also know when it doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?

“There are two kinds of no,” he said. “There’s the negotiating no and the forget it no.”

“Negotiating?”

“Yeah -- the no that means, you haven’t made a strong enough offer ... yet.”

“Where do you get your ideas?” Crystal rolled her eyes again. “It’s a forget it no, Richard.”

“Is it something about me, personally, you don’t like?” he asked.

“Richard -- I’m sure you’re a very nice guy. This isn’t about you. It’s about me ... entirely about me.”

“Understood,” he replied.

“Will you take some advice?” she asked.

“What advice?”

“Girls don’t like being pursued. It starts feeling like ... like being stalked and there’s something very creepy and scary about being stalked.”

“Also understood. The last thing I want to do is to make you feel uncomfortable. I apologize if that’s what I’ve done.”

“Apology accepted, Richard. Out of curiosity -- what is it about me? Why are you so persistent? I mean ... I’ve had guys interested in me before ... but not the way you seem to be.”

“I wish I knew,” he replied. “I can’t explain it -- there’s something about you that resonates in me. It’s ... chemistry. I’d like to think you feel it, too, but something is keeping you from acknowledging it. Well ... I guess I’ll see you in class and at the Guild.”

Richard turned and headed toward his next class. “God fucking damn it,” he muttered. “Why do girls have to be so goddamned complicated?” He headed out of the building and across campus to his next class.

He sat through two classes, his mind wandering to thoughts of Crystal. Why can’t I get her out of my fuckin’ mind? he thought. His last class over, he trudged up the hill to his dorm room and let himself in.

“Hey, Rich,” Brian said. “I was just heading over to the cafeteria. You know I like to get there early before they run out of the good stuff.”

“They must run out of it real fast,” Richard replied, “‘cuz I never see any good stuff. Just the same old crap.”

Richard set his tray across from his roommate’s and picked open a container of chocolate milk. “Brian -- you know something about girls.”

“Something ... I’m no expert.”

“You must know more about them than I do. What exactly does it mean when a girl says, it’s not about you -- it’s about me?”

“You got that from a girl?”

“Yeah -- from Crystal.”

Brian sipped from a glass of soda. “It could mean a few things ... like she’s gay...”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Richard replied.

“ ... of course, these days, a lesbian is apt to come out and say so.”

“Unless she’s in the closet,” Richard added.

“Maybe...”

“Or, maybe she already has a boyfriend.”

“Most girls will tell you if they’re already attached,” Brian replied. “Mainly when she says it’s not about you, it’s about me ... it’s really about you. It’s the ultimate brush-off. It means, go away and don’t come back.”

“I was coming to that realization. I thought since I had seen her at the Theatre Guild, maybe if we had a shared interest...”

“You have it bad for her, don’t you?” Brian asked.

“I have it really bad for her ... worst ever. I can’t explain it. She’s exactly the sort of girl I admire -- she’s smart ... attractive but not so bonkers pretty that it gets in the way ... if you know what I mean.”

“I sure do,” Brian replied. “The ones that look like fashion models are usually too into themselves.”

“Crystal has more of a girl-next-door look. She doesn’t wear eye makeup or any makeup for that matter.”

“You don’t go for the smoke-eye look?”

“Not at all. I like a clean and natural look. She has such awesome hair and that pouty lower lip ... I just want her to give me a chance.”

“You’re trying too hard,” his roommate replied. “It’s better to withdraw ... act disinterested ... let her chase you. She can’t catch you unless she chases you and she can’t chase you unless you’re running away.”

“Yeah ... But -- what if she never chases me?”

“Then, it’s time to move on, bro. One thing I’ve learned is that wanting her often is more satisfying than having her ... if you get my drift.”

“Understood. Fantasy versus reality. It’s sorta like the difference between theory and practice ... in theory they’re the same but in practice there’s a big difference.” He gulped the rest of his chocolate milk. “Well -- I gotta go to the Guild meeting. I hope I won’t need to work too closely with Crystal. That would be torture.”

Richard headed down the hill to the corner to wait for a walk signal. He spotted Crystal. “Hi,” he said.

“Richard...”

“Going to Theatre Guild?”

“Yeah...”

“Would you like to walk with me?”

“Actually, I was waiting for the Tech shuttle down to the lower campus. It cuts the walking distance in half.”

“Good idea,” he replied. “I’ll ride with you.”

Shortly a white mini-bus with the Tech logo stopped at the corner. Richard followed Crystal aboard and sat across from her on bench seats that ran the length of the bus. She sat with her arms folded and stared past him.

“Crystal,” he said, “I’m not going to ask you out. You finally drove it into my thick skull that my advances were unwelcome and I respect that.”

She made eye contact and flashed a brief smile. “Thank you, Richard. You’ve lowered my anxiety by a notch or two.”

“You know -- I think you and I are the only Tech students participating in the Guild.”

“I think you’re right,” she replied. “I haven’t seen anyone there I recognize. I don’t know how I missed seeing you there.”

The bus let them off at Tech’s downtown campus and together they walked the three-quarters of a mile to State and into the auditorium where the Theatre Guild met. There they joined other students.

A lean middle-aged man with long hair in a pony-tail and thick glasses stepped onto the stage. “Everyone, please take a seat,” he said. Richard sat beside Crystal in the second row. “I’m sure everyone is eager to know how their auditions went. I’m still reviewing the videos and will be making parts assignments in the next day or two. You’ll receive an email with your assignments. There’s a fairly large cast for this play and we’ll have understudies for all the speaking parts. Any questions?”

Trent scanned the students sitting in the audience. “As you know we’ll have three evening performances and a Saturday matinee. For the matinee, the understudies will be featured. That will give everyone an opportunity to perform. For those without parts assignments, there are other back-stage duties such as wardrobe, lighting, sound ... The way I grade performances is to grade the performance as a whole. Theatre is a group effort and if the group performs well then all will receive a good grade. Questions?”