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SCENE FOUR
Gretchen’s steps were heavy and slow as she trod through the history department. Though it was already mid-afternoon, she still had another two classes left. After her last class, she had an entire ten minutes to get her script for play practice. The red-haired beauty would not even be able to start her homework until late that night.
Walking through the Red Lounge, Gretchen spotted one of her friends. “Hey, Noah!”
Noah barely glanced up at her, his brown eyes hollow and dull. He held a history textbook and class notes on his lap, but Gretchen could tell he wasn’t studying them.
“I’m not going to ask if everything is all right. The look in your eyes is answer enough,” Gretchen said. She approached the battered, red sofa cautiously and dropped herself into the seat beside Noah. “You don’t have to tell me anything, but you’re welcome to tell me everything.”
Noah sighed heavily and shifted his books into his backpack. “You have to get to class. You don’t want to be late again.”
“I don’t want my friend to hurt either.”
“Mean it?” he asked timidly.
Gretchen turned sideways on the couch to face him. “I always have.”
“You’ll laugh.”
“Honey, if it’s hurting you, then I can’t laugh.”
“The others laughed.”
“I’m not the others.”
Noah took a deep, albeit shaky, breath before continuing. “I just got off the phone with my brother. My dog died this morning.”
“I’m sorry.” Gretchen reached up and squeezed Noah’s shoulder firmly.
Does she actually care? Noah looked at her in astonishment.
“My dog died about a year and a half ago.”
“Tell me about him.” Noah’s eyes took on a misty sheen. “Please.”
“Of course,” Gretchen replied, taking her friend’s hand. “His name was Tank. He was solid and tough. Nobody pushed this dog around. I remember this one time that he went out the basement window after a skunk.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope. He caught it too, got sprayed in the face. He spent a week in the barn, then some time in the garage, before finally being allowed back in the house again.”
“Wow. My dog never did anything like that.” Noah swallowed before continuing. “We taught her to turn the lights on and off, but she figured it out on her own. We’d come downstairs to find lights on in the middle of the night.”
Gretchen left out a hearty laugh.
Throughout their storytelling, Noah and Gretchen had steadily moved closer to one another. After finishing his last anecdote, Noah fully rested his head on her shoulder. Gretchen, in turn, put her arm around him and pulled him closer. They sat in silence for a few minutes, basking in the mutual comfort.
“Gretch?” Noah asked, breaking the silence. “Does the hurt ever go away?”
“Not completely. But it does lessen, and you learn to work around it.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Gretchen replied, softly kissing his temple.
“Then, as your friend, I’m telling you that you can still make the last half-hour of your class.” He jumped to his feet, grabbed her hand, and pulled her up alongside him.
“Oh, all right. I’ll see you later?”
“I would expect so.”
Gretchen and Noah parted ways then. Forty-five minutes later, though, Gretchen strolled into her final class. Noah was already there, along with a few others. She stood silently behind him, her hands lightly massaging his shoulders. Noah reached up to still her motions, then craned his head up to look her in the eye. He smiled softly at Gretchen, which she happily returned.