Invisible(20)

“How’s it going?” he asked her with a broad smile. He reminded her of a big friendly puppy wagging his tail, and she smiled at the image.

“It’s intense. They’re already giving us assignments.” She was beginning to wonder if she was good enough for the school. It was harder than she’d expected.

“They’re giving us a shitload of work too. I have two acting classes and an audition tomorrow. I thought I was ready for this. I took acting classes all through high school. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Me too,” she said, relieved to be able to say it out loud. He was the only person she knew so far, other than her roommate, who was pleasant, but Betty was out all the time, and had friends in the dorm, so Antonia hadn’t seen much of her since she’d arrived. It was a big urban campus, which made it harder to meet people, with everyone rushing around and many students living off campus.

    “What’s your screenplay about?” he asked casually as they approached the cash register.

“It’s a short piece, just one scene between two men in a concentration camp, and one is about to die.”

“Wow, that’s heavy,” he said, impressed.

“I’ve never done anything like it. I like happy endings,” she said with a grin. The class was being taught by a famous Hollywood screenwriter, who was a guest lecturer for a semester.

“I’ll invite you to one of our plays, if I get a part,” he said, as she finally reached the cash register, paid for her groceries, and said goodbye. He caught up with her on the sidewalk a few minutes later and offered to carry the bag back to the dorm for her. The groceries were heavy, and she finally handed them to him, grateful for the assistance. They talked all the way back to the dorm about their classes.

His room was on the floor above hers, and he stopped at her door and handed her the grocery bag. “Do you want to have dinner sometime?”

“If I get caught up,” she said vaguely, and he nodded.

“Yeah, me too. If I get a part. They pile on the homework here. I kind of expected it, but it’s even heavier than I thought. I guess if we survive it, we’ll be ready for the real world.” She nodded and unlocked her door. Her roommate was out as usual. She thanked him again, and he waved as he headed for the stairs to his floor. There was no question, he was a good-looking boy, but she had no time for romance now. She headed straight for her desk, and got to work on her screenplay.

    She didn’t see Jake again until the following week, when she was leaving the library again. He was walking by when he saw her.

“Hey! I got a part!” he said, beaming. “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. We’re putting it on in the studio where I take class. The performance is a week from Saturday. Can you come?”

“I’ll try. I’ve got two big assignments,” she said. The upperclassmen always said that you could tell the freshmen by the look of terror in their eyes.

“I think they’re trying to kill us,” Jake said, pulling a PowerBar out of his pocket. “Sorry, that’s breakfast and lunch. I haven’t had time to eat all day.” She laughed. She hadn’t either. “If you come to the play, we can have dinner after, if you want.” She hesitated, not wanting to encourage him for a romance she didn’t have time for. She was running from one class to the next, and then rushing to the library to do homework. She had called Lara once to say she was okay, but had had time for nothing else. Dating was out of the question. She didn’t see how anyone could manage it. “I’ll check in with you closer to the time,” he promised, and took off on a skateboard he’d been carrying. She wished she had Rollerblades sometimes to get places faster. She was using her bike a lot, but even that didn’t seem fast enough.

A week later, Jake knocked on her door. He looked tired and had a stack of scripts under his arm. “Are you catching up?” he asked with a warm smile.

“Not really. I feel like the last skater in the Ice Follies. I don’t think I’m going to catch up for the next four years.” She was panicked about it.

    “I’ll give you a ticket to the play,” he said, as he handed her one. “Come if you can. If you can’t, I understand. No pressure.”

“Thanks, Jake,” she said, happy to see him again. At least he was a familiar face in a sea of unknown ones.

In the end, she left the library at six-thirty on Saturday, and decided to go to his play. She had the ticket in her backpack, and slipped into a seat in one of the studios where they held classes and small performances in the Tisch building. The play started on time, and Jake was powerful in the role he’d been given. She was stunned by how talented he was, how professional, and how convincing he was onstage. It was a masterful performance by all of the players.

“You were fantastic!” she told him when he met her in the hall afterward. She had waited for him.

“I screwed up about four times, and blew my lines.”

“I didn’t notice,” she said honestly.

“Do you have time for a pizza? I’m starving. I threw up before the performance.”

“Sure. I’ve got to go back and work after that, though.”

They walked a few blocks to a pizza parlor bursting with students, but they found a small table for two, and each ordered a pizza. She ordered a small Margherita and Jake an extra-large with everything on it, including anchovies. When it arrived, she looked at it in horror.