The Weekend in Room 512 | ONC 2023

4. Cameron | flyball

With a sheepish nod and gauging Ethan's reaction, I added quickly, "If you want."

His professor made a face that worked almost as well as the pleading look I used to give Ethan when we dated. "Fine," Ethan told him, not even batting me a glance. "Just to take my mind off the concert."

"Great!" Alan turned to me. "We technically don't have a curfew, but it would be nice to have Ethan check in with me once he returns. A quick text or whatnot to confirm he didn't die in Manhattan would be appreciated."

I laughed nervously, still processing that Ethan had not only agreed to eat dinner with me but agreed rather quickly. While his professor convinced him, it was nice to know that Ethan didn't hate me so much that he couldn't stomach the idea of eating a meal with me.

Ethan turned to me. "Did you want to put your stuff upstairs?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "I should go do that. Did you want me to leave your violin there too?"

"I got it." He gripped the shoulder sleeve tighter.

"Right, last time I nearly dropped it." Luckily, I had caught it by the strap before it hit the ground, but Ethan had given me the silent treatment in junior year for that.

On the elevator ride up, I gnawed at my bottom lip, resisting the urge to say anything to fill the silence. Even though it was only five floors up, it was agony. After quietly setting our things down in the room and grabbing a jacket, I couldn't help but open my mouth in the lobby. "How was rehearsal?"

He said nothing until we exited the hotel, the brisk air hitting us from the North. "Could be better."

"I'm sure tomorrow will be great. Where are you playing?"

He stopped to look at me. "Why are you asking?"

"I—Uh..." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Just curious, I guess. There are a few venues near Juilliard, right?"

His fists clenched. "Alice Tully Hall."

"Must be a big event; sounds fancy."

Ethan sighed. "It's a showcase—just a small one."

"Still exciting."

"I guess."

I let the subject drop as we crossed the street, careful of the taxis and bicyclists in the area.

"I don't have anything tomorrow," I found myself saying as we turned the corner to where the pizza place was, the underlying suggestion in the air. "Aside from going out for food and drinks with the team."

A frown marred his face. "Why would you want to go?"

He couldn't have meant it as coldly as it felt, but it felt like a winter storm had rolled in, freezing me to the pavement. He took a few steps, slowing when he realized I had stopped. There was an unreadable expression on his face as he asked again, "Why would you wanna see my showcase?"

I stuttered before clearing my throat, following after him. "I just thought—"

My words faltered as he quickened his pace. It wasn't a good idea to tell him I missed his playing or that I would've loved to support him at his concert and see him kick ass at his showcase, even if it was just for his classmates. He didn't want anything to do with me before; I doubted he'd want me in the crowd.

"This the place, I presume," he said, pointing to the red and green sign.

"Yeah, looks like it." He entered before I could open the door for him, immediately scoping out the menu board.