Loveless(30)

The meeting went on for an hour, and Jason and I sat and shared popcorn the whole time. Was this supposed to mean something? Was this what flirting was? No. No, this was just what friends, did, right? This was just me and Jason being normal.

I thought I got this sort of thing. I understood flirting. But now, when it came to Jason, I had no idea what to think.

When the meeting finally ended, Rooney and Pip went down to join the queue of freshers who had something to ask President Sadie. They walked together but didn’t look at each other.

Jason and I stayed in our seats and we reminisced about some of our funniest youth theatre anecdotes. Hairspray when the music director downloaded a knock-off version of the score and all the songs sounded wrong. Dracula when Pip slipped on some fake blood and tore down the stage curtains. Romeo and Juliet when me and Jason had been painting the set and got stuck on the balcony for two hours because everyone went for dinner and forgot we were there.

Maybe it was the fact that I’d been surrounded by loud theatre people for the past hour.

Maybe it was because I genuinely liked Jason in that way.

Whatever it was, it gave me the confidence to say, ‘Hey, I was thinking … we should … do something.’

He raised his eyebrows, intrigued. ‘Something?’

Oh God. Why was I doing this? How was I doing this? Had I been possessed by the spirit of someone with an actual shred of self-confidence?

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I dunno. Go see a movie, or …’ Wait. What fun things did people do on dates? I racked my brain, but all the fanfic I’d read had suddenly deleted itself from my mind. ‘Eat … food.’

Jason stared at me. ‘Georgia, what are you doing?’

‘I just – we could – hang out.’

‘We hang out all the time.’

‘I mean just us.’

‘Why just us?’

There was a pause.

And then he seemed to get it.

His eyes widened. He shifted back from me a little, then forward again.

‘Are you …’ He let out a tiny, disbelieving chuckle. ‘You sound like you’re asking me out, Georgia.’

I made a face. ‘Um. Well, yeah.’

Jason said nothing for a moment.

And then he said, ‘Why?’

It was not exactly how I’d expected him to react.

‘I just …’ I paused. ‘I think … I don’t know. I want to. Go out with you. If you also want to.’

He just kept on staring.

‘If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We can just forget about it.’ I could feel my cheeks heating up. Not because Jason was making me particularly flustered, just because I was a disaster and everything I did was a tragic mistake.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Yeah. Let’s – let’s do it.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

We looked at each other. Jason was an attractive guy, and he was a good person too. He was clearly the sort of person who I should like romantically. Who I could like romantically. He looked like a boyfriend.

I loved his personality. I’d loved his personality for years.

So I could fall in love with him. With a little bit of effort. Definitely.

Jason had to go, to run to a lecture, leaving me a little shell-shocked that I had been able to do what I had just done, but I was soon distracted by the raised voices at the front of the auditorium. Voices that belonged to Rooney and the DST president, Sadie.

There was hardly anyone in the theatre now, so I wandered down to where Rooney and Pip were just in front of the stage with Sadie. Pip was sitting in the front row, watching the conversation – or argument, I wasn’t yet sure – go down.

‘We only have enough funding for one new society this year,’ said Sadie firmly. ‘That’s already been taken by the Mime Society.’

‘Mime Society?’ Rooney spluttered. ‘Are you joking? Since when is mime more important than Shakespeare?’

Sadie gave her a look like she was very, very tired of dealing with people like Rooney. ‘We also don’t appreciate snobbery in the DST.’

‘I’m not being snobby, I just …’ Rooney took a breath, clearly trying not to shout. ‘I just don’t understand why you got rid of the Shakespeare Soc in the first place!’

‘Because it didn’t have enough members to continue,’ said Sadie coolly.

I sat down next to Pip in the front row. She leant over to me and whispered, ‘I just wanted to ask what the Freshers’ Play would be this year.’

‘What is it?’

‘No idea yet. This is still happening.’

‘What if I funded the society myself?’ Rooney asked.

Sadie raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m listening.’

‘I-I don’t need any of DST’s money. I just want to put on a Shakespeare.’ She looked genuinely desperate. I hadn’t realised she cared that much about this, honestly.

‘Do you know how much it costs to put on a play?’

‘Um … no, but –’

‘Hiring the theatre? Costumes? Set? Rehearsal space? All using the DST’s time and resources?’

‘Well, no, but I –’

Sadie sighed again.

‘You need five members to count as a society,’ she said. ‘And we’ll hire the theatre for you for one performance.’