Can't Break a Leg

“Shit, shit, shit.” Thomas repeated the word over and over again as tapped away at the button for the crosswalk.

“Wait.” The automated voice fired the word back at him. It was deep, dry, and disinterested. Also damn annoying. So, Thomas’ finger kept tapping away.

“Shit.”

“Wait.”

“Shit.”

“Wait.”

It took an eternity for the light to change, and as soon as it did, Thomas bolted across Lemon Street. Of all the days to be running late. And, of course, the Holland Briggs Theatre was the furthest building from Student Parking.

“Shit.” It was Thomas’ word of the day. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he slowed down, withdrawing it. He saw a message from Nolan.

Dude where you at?

Omw, he sent back. Instead of waiting for another light, Thomas decided to cut over the bridge connecting Admissions to the quad. The steps up to the bridge were steep; he didn’t think he could feel more winded than he already was.

He sent another text at the top of the stairs: Just passed the food court. It wasn’t a total lie. Even from the bridge, his nose caught the scent of Subway in the air.

Nolan responded. Hurry. They just opened the doors.

At this, Thomas resumed a run, despite the protests from his heart and lungs. His eyes darted between the lines of his script and the screen of his phone as he tried to conduct another reply. “Shi-"

And that’s when the world was pulled out from under him.

Or, rather, he misstepped.

One moment, his foot was touching down on the staircase that descended into the central quad; the next, his face was careening towards concrete. It all happened so fast, but it also felt incredibly slow. His hands fumbled for the railing, forgoing the grip on his phone, but it was too late. The angle was wrong; the timing was off.

He fell.

“What the hell?” said Nolan, just under his breath. He thought he’d be used to Thomas’ tardiness by now, but nope. He looked back in the direction of the parking lot. Still no sign of him. Worst part was, he was only doing this for Thomas. His eyes dropped to the script on the bench beside him and he shook his head. Still nothing on his phone yet either. It had been almost ten minutes since Thomas had supposedly passed the food court.

“Next!” A girl called out from just inside the open doors of the Holland Briggs. She ushered in a group of three, all holding their own scripts in hand. The line was already insane.

“Dammit, Tom.”

“Nolan.” The abrupt and cold sound of Thomas’ voice manifested from a few feet in front of him.

Nolan jumped. “Geezus.” Sure enough, he looked up to find his friend standing there, an uneasy expression on his face. “The hell did you come from? I was just-”

“Um.” Thomas interrupted him. “Can we go talk somewhere?”  

“But I thought you wanted to run lines.” Nolan gestured to the group of auditioning students that had gathered in front of the theatre.

“This is important.”

“Dude, they’re already—"

“Nolan.”

“What?”

“Please?”

Nolan saw that Thomas’ hands were shaking, that the screen of his phone was cracked. He was going to comment, but he rose to his feet instead, following his friend around the side of the adjacent building. “Tom, what’s up? Is everything okay?” He was starting to feel bad for being pissed a moment ago.

“Not really.” Thomas took a breath, slid his shattered phone into his pocket, and looked down at his hands. He cleared his throat and turned away, leaning himself against the side of the brick-lined wall beside them. “I’ve gotta tell you something.”

Nolan looked down at his feet. He realized where this was going. He had to admit, the timing was a little bizarre; it wasn’t how he’d always pictured it happening. “What is it?” He felt something unexpected stir inside him.

Thomas took another long breath. “Look, man. The only reason I’m telling you this is because I trust you, okay?”

“Okay.” The feeling was in Nolan’s chest now.

“And, I- I really wasn’t sure before.”

“Sure about what?”

“About… me.” Thomas’ eyes were back on his trembling hands. He curled and uncurled his fingers.

“Okay.” Nolan’s thoughts were drifting to the first time he’d met Thomas. Bio, almost two years ago. Same lab group. Shit, he’d known then too. Or, at least, he’d hoped.

“Nolan, I’m—”

“Yeah?”

“I’m invincible.”

#

Thomas wasn’t sure how long it took him to convince his friend that he wasn’t ‘full of shit,’ but by the time he did, shadows were stretching across the campus, and the sky had gone flush with sunset. He’d not only recounted to Nolan his recent fall down the stairs from the school’s bridge, but other moments from his life that supported his theory as well.

“You did not,” said Nolan as Thomas told him about the time he’d left a finger between the blades of a PVC cutter during a workshop in Set Design.

“Yep.” Thomas held up his left hand and wiggled all five fingers as if that proved something. “You believe me?”

“Well.” Nolan sighed. “I don’t think you’d make this up.”

This gave Thomas hope. It wasn’t like this was entirely unheard-of. After all, there were people who could withstand freezing temperatures, or hold their breath underwater for twenty minutes, or freaking move things with their minds. “It’s kinda like I’m that guy from Unbreakable,” he decided to say.

This got Nolan to laugh. They were both Shyamalan fans. “Yeah, I guess so.” He stood up. “I just-- I can’t believe I thought—” He stopped himself.

Thomas looked up at him. “Thought what?” This was the first time he’d seen Nolan’s face go red.

“Nothing.” His friend shrugged. “I just never would’ve guessed that it was… this.”

“Yeah…” Thomas eyed him a moment.

“Unfortunately.” Nolan’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I think we missed auditions.”

“Oh. Shit.” Getting a part in Director’s Fest had completely slipped his mind. “I don’t think I would’ve been in the right headspace anyway.”

Nolan chuckled. “Yeah, me neither.” They both stood there a moment, something hanging in the air. There was so much ahead of them now. “Probably for the best anyway.”

“Why?”

“Well, I mean.” Nolan smirked. “I wouldn’t be able to tell you to break a leg anymore before each show.”

Thomas shook his head, but a bout of relieved laughter overtook him as he followed his friend back to the quad.