“We could call Mom and have her come get you,” I said. “I won’t be mad. I know it’s really long.”
“No way,” said Miles. “I’m staying for the whole thing.” And even though he’d been fidgeting a bit, I wasn’t surprised. Miles never wanted to seem like the young one. He would never back down. Once he started something, he did not quit.
“Let’s go walk around,” I said. “We have twenty minutes.”
“Eighteen, now,” Leo said.
We merged into the mass of people and went downstairs. The courtyard was dark, and the lights strung on the massive old sycamore tree glimmered. I’d forgotten that I was still wearing my costume until someone asked me where the restroom was, which made Leo and Miles laugh.
“I’ll go get us each a tart,” I said, after I’d pointed the woman in the right direction.
“No,” Leo said. “You bought the tickets, I’ll get the treats.”
“I don’t think so,” I said. “You need to save your money for England.”
“You can both stop arguing,” Miles said, “because look what I brought.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out four huge Atomic Fireballs.
“Oh man,” Leo said.
We all put them in our mouths. Tears came straight to my eyes, but they were really streaming down Leo’s cheeks. “I don’t believe it,” I said. “I think you’re even more sensitive to this stuff than Miles.” But it came out all garbled because of my Fireball.
“I can’t understand you,” Leo said. At least I think that’s what he said. And then he pointed at Miles, who had a Fireball in each cheek. “What does he think he’s doing?”
Right then another lady came up and asked me where the restroom was.
I tried to answer but she couldn’t understand me.
Leo snorted and then his eyes widened in pain. He spit out the Fireball into his hands. “Fire,” he gasped. “Fire went up into my nose.”
“Like a dragon,” said Miles, barely intelligible around the Fireballs in his cheeks, and the woman tsked in disgust and walked away.
The three of us stood there, helpless with laughter. The sycamore tree stretched its branches over and around us. We stayed like that until the trumpet sounded for us to go back in.
26.
I noticed how chilly it was when we went back into the theater. Desert-night cold comes fast. And all three of us were dressed in short sleeves. I noticed Miles folding his arms and hunching his shoulders. I shivered.
“Slide over,” Leo said, and so I did, and then our arms and legs were right together.
“Slide over,” I told Miles, and so he did too.
“Of course you get the middle,” he muttered. “Then you’re the only one who gets to be warm on both sides.”
On my other side, Leo shook with laughter. I could feel it.
My brother and my best friend sat next to me. My mouth was hot from the Fireball, and my hands and feet were cold from the night. On either side, I was warm.
27.
The minute the play ended, Miles whispered to me that he had to go to the bathroom and took off. Leo and I sat there for a minute, letting the other people exit the theater.
“Thanks,” he said. “That was great.”
“And you were surprised, right?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was.” He stood up and stretched and then stuck out his hand so that he could pull me up. “I love coming to the plays. I’ve really missed it this summer.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to be an actor?”
“I know I couldn’t ever do what they do,” he said, pointing at the stage where the actors had been. “But I could be the one who writes the words they say.”
I started laughing.
“What?” Leo asked. “What’s so funny about that?”
“It’s funny because—” I said, and then I couldn’t stop cracking up, but Leo didn’t get mad. He raised his eyebrows at me.
“You don’t want to be an actor,” I said. “You want to be Shakespeare.”
Then Leo laughed too. “I guess if you put it that way, it sounds weird.”
“Not weird,” I said. “Just big.”
Leo had all these dreams. He had specific dreams, like seeing Barnaby Chesterfield in London. He had big dreams, like being a writer. And he trusted me so much that he told me his dreams out loud.
I’d spent the last year feeling like being alive was lucky enough. Like being alive was hard enough.
But I did have dreams.
There.
I admitted it to myself.