45 Robin Takes a Stand

August 14th

That was awesome!

I couldn't breathe, but somehow there was still way too much oxygen in my system—I was floating right off my feet. They gave me three curtain calls! Me! Three!Curtain calls!

Slumping against a cool pillar backstage and pressing my steaming face against it, I left patches of sweaty makeup all over it and didn't give a fig.

I was a god.

"Robin! Hey, Finch!" I glanced up to see nothing but a big mass of red as Maggie shoved an enormous bouquet of roses in my face.

"Look what your friend brought you." She smiled at me over the flowers.

Suddenly I wasn't hot anymore; I was cold and shaky and stressed.

"S-Skyler brought those?" I gripped the pillar, hoping its solidity would act as a good influence on my spine. I hadn't seen him before the show, but he'd said he would come. Was he still here? Could I catch him?

"Tall, gorgeous brunet?" She shook the roses at me, sending a few petals flying. "He made a run for it, but there's a card, I think."

I took the roses from her and dug through them till I found a folded piece of paper; it was a bit ragged, like it had been torn out of a notebook. I flicked it open with one hand:

bloody incandescent job titch.

A.

P.S. I'll be at the office

I stared at the note for a few moments, then managed a broken smile. "They're not from him."

Maggie's face fell slightly, as if she actually felt bad for me this time. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said—"

"Don't worry about it." I grinned at her and took a deep whiff of the roses, trying once again to pretend that it wasn't despair flooding my bloodstream.

Why would Skyler bring me roses? That was the kind of thing your millennial employer did, not your totally and completely uber-platonic friend. We obviously weren't meant for each other—he was meant for Jessie's Girl, and I was meant to die alone. To suffer in silence with grace and stoic bravery like Olivia de Havilland or Jennifer Aniston.

I struck a pose. "Roses from a handsome man are roses from a handsome man, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "By any other name ..."

"Shut up. Here, hold these." I shoved the flowers back at her. "I gotta go find Armand and drive him home. See you at Squeaky's." We always went out to this crappy all-night greasy spoon after opening night, and this would be the first time I'd be attending as part of the main cast rather than a lowly chorus person. And that meant I could bring people, didn't it? What if I invited Skyler? And in the residual heat of the performance we—

I shot him a text before I could talk myself out of it.

Backstage, a few minutes later, I changed into my street clothes, trying not to notice how truly heinous I smelled, then got my bag and bustled out of the stage door. It had just clicked shut behind me—

When someone grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked.

My feet all but left the ground, and next thing I knew, my back was against the wall and I could smell the Jager on Terri's breath.

I'd forgotten.

In all the excitement and stage jitters and Skyler jitters, I'd actually forgotten Terri's threat.

"That was quite a performance, Flinch." He was so close to me, but the shadows meant I could barely make out his face, only the glint in his blue eyes. The world had become limited to Terri's hand clenched in my shirt, Terri's shoulders crowding out the light, Terri's forearm pressing me so hard into the wall some of the joints in my back cracked.

But this couldn't be happening.

No one was watching now.

And it wasn't a joke. Terri was going to hurt me, really hurt me.

Still, none of this seemed real—I was coming off one of the highest highs I'd ever experienced, and the thought that Terri had been here the whole time, just waiting—

I didn't even struggle. I didn't scream. I just stared up at Terri in utter disbelief. "What are you doing?"

He grinned and drew his fist back like a cartoon villain. "What's it look like?"

"It looks like you're stalking me," I said. He blinked, apparently forgetting to throw the punch, so I kept going. "Like you bought a ticket and watched a two-hour play starring me, for the sole purpose of jumping me afterward and ... and what? What's your plan here, Ter?"

Terri seemed genuinely lost for a moment, but then he shook it off and laughed. It sounded forced, though. "I don't need a plan, Flinch. I do this shit for fun."

"You did plan it." My voice shook, but I kept talking. "You sent me that creepy threat online, and now you've cornered me with no one else around and— This isn't the playground, Terri. We're not kids anymore. This isn't a prank. If you hit me, I'm going to the police."

Terri leaned in. "Say that again."

"HEY!"

We both glanced up, and my heart dropped. This time it was fear. No, not fear. Horror.

Skyler stood haloed by the lone streetlamp that illuminated the stage door. His fists were clenched and so was his jaw, and he was glaring and he was so beautiful and heroic it took my breath away.

"Leave him alone."

The hand pinning me to the wall dropped as Terri stepped away from me. I nearly collapsed onto the ground as Terri directed his full attention at Skyler. "Can I help you?" He gave that charming we're-all-in-on-this-toxic-horseplay-am-I-right grin that shouldn't have ever worked on anyone, but always always had.

"Don't touch him," Skyler said, though his eyes were on me, not Terri. I could feel my mouth hanging open.

Terri laughed again. "Dude, we're just kidding around. Calm your shit." The hand that had been clenched in my shirt a moment ago was still tightly fisted at his side. The knuckles were white.

Skyler was bigger than me, but Terri was enormous, and Skyler didn't exactly seem like he'd ever been in a fight before, and oh my god I was going to get him killed—

Skyler fished out his phone and held it up in plain sight. "This isn't kidding around. It's assault. I think you attacking him would be of interest to campus police. You know, as a joke."

Terri laughed again. "You really think the cops are gonna care about a little rough-housing between friends?"

Skyler didn't move or change his expression. "Is that what you think this looks like?"

This couldn't actually work, could it? Terri was going to kill us both.

But his eyes lingered on the phone, which Skyler was holding remarkably still.

None of us moved. Or breathed.

Then—

"Catch you later, Flinch," Terri muttered. He straightened up and away from me, and then he was gone, his dark silhouette disappearing into the night.

Unsurprisingly, my knees buckled and I slid down to the ground. It was nice and cool through my jeans, and I shut my eyes because I knew what was coming next. I could feel Skyler kneel next to me—not too close, because of course he wouldn't want to loom over me like Terri just had because he was so sweet—

"I can't believe that worked," he breathed. "Are you okay?"

"No!" I squeaked before I could stop myself, then buried my face in my hands.

"Robin, I'm so sorry, did he hurt you?" Skyler placed a hand on my arm, and I immediately shrugged it off and started to scramble to my feet.

"I gotta go, thank you for your help, I need to—" At which point I tripped over my own damn self, and Skyler had to catch me and hold me up.

"Hey, hey, slow down." Skyler leaned me against the wall—so differently from the way Terri had shoved me up against it—and smiled at me. "It's okay, take a minute."

I could feel my face burning and his hands where he gently held my arms. "No, I need to go ..."

"The show was amazing." Skyler's voice was still soft, like I was a frightened animal. Which I was. Not a romantic hero, a Disney freakin' sidekick who needed semi-comedic rescuing at every turn. Skyler was still talking. "You were fantastic, really."

This was torture. "Let me go," I groaned.

Skyler immediately let go of my shoulders and took a step back, his smile transformed into a horrified frown. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"You don't mean any of it!" Oh shit, were we doing this? No, no, we were not. I buried my face in my hands. So I wouldn't have to see the confusion on Skyler's face. The justifiable confusion.

"Robin"—Skyler didn't only sound confused, he sounded scared "—could you ... could you look at me, please?"

I let out a shuddering breath and met his eyes, amazed that I didn't instantly melt or burst into flame.

"I'm sorry," Skyler repeated. "I don't want to force my friendship on you. I just ... I wanted to make sure you're okay."

I couldn't take this anymore. "Force your friendship—seriously? You really have no ...? Okay, so, you're na?ve, I get it; it's sweet and sexy but it's also damn infuriating, you know?" Oh shit, we were doing this. "I've never beengood at this because I'm supposed to be na?ve too! Only not na?ve like you, na?ve like I believe in true love and bluebirds and crap. But the point is one of us has to be, y'know, not na?ve, and I guess that's me, so here goes." I took a deep breath. "When I asked you out—when I said I liked you—it wasn't as a friend, it was because I'm attracted to you and not only because you keep saving my ass, although yeah, that might have something to do with it."

Skyler was staring at me with his mouth open.

But I wasn't done. Nowhere near. "And I know I said it was possible to maintain a friendship with someone you have feelings for, and it is, but not for me. Because I'm garbage. Garbage with feelings for you. And it's your fault because you're funny and thoughtful and shy and brave, and you can stand naked in front of a room full of people but you blush when you mention the girl you love. It's even the fact that you have a girl you love—how sick is that, right? But—but that's not the point. The point is ... the point is I really, really like you and every time you show up and save me or simply do something wonderful, it makes it so much worse, and I want to hate you but I can't because I ... because I can't. And I know you're just being you and wonderful and well-meaning and all, and I probably shouldn't have said any of this and, you know what, I'm gonna leave now okay?"

I tried to run, but this time his hand came down on my arm—still gentle—but also somehow pleading.

I gasped. "I— Sorry, but I need to—"

He held up his other hand. "Give me a second." He looked like his brain was going to overheat. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was all twisted up in pain.

"Robin." He spoke slowly, carefully. He took a deep breath. "I think you're great, you know? You're so fun to hang out with, and I value you a lot as a friend, but, um. When I said that Delia was the only person I'd ever liked, I meant it. I've never felt attraction to anyone else."

His hand on my arm slid off, and I had to fight the urge to grab it up with both of mine. But I let him keep talking. Destroying me with every single word.

"It's always been like that, and I'd come to terms with being asexual, but then that one time with Delia happened, and I don't know, maybe that was a fluke. I-I'm sorry, I don't know if I can feel that again. Not the way that you do."

I tried to laugh, and surprise, surprise, it came out as a sob, wracking through me as a spasm. I covered my mouth, trying to keep it in, to stop being so horrible, so selfish, so completely and totally unlovable—

"No, please don't." Skyler reached for me again. "I'm sorry—I ... I need to think."

I shied away from him and desperately wiped away tears. "Okay. Yeah. N-n-no worries." And then finally I ran.

Worst. Person. In. The. World.

The good news was that by the time I'd made it to Armand's office, I was pretty much all cried out. The bad news was that when I got there, he took one look at my face and barked, "What the hell happened, Titch?"

"You first," I hiccupped. When I'd got there, he'd been curled up in his office chair, head in his hands. "Did things not go well with Lucas?"

"He couldn't make it. We'll try again at the con, don't worry about it." Armand scowled, fully deploying those eyebrows. "Titch, I'm serious. Have you been crying?"

I leaned against the doorframe and considered my options. For about two seconds. "It happened again." I sobbed. So much for being cried out.

"What happened again?"

I told him about Terri, and about Skyler being Batman, but before I could get into what had happened tonight, Armand stopped me and clarified, "This boy's been harassing you?"

I hugged myself and nodded. "Yeah, but this time was different. I ... I'll report him."

"You'd better." He gave me a wretched but determined smile and pointed to a piece of paper stuck to the corkboard over his desk. "Or I'll have to. I'm a mandatory reporter."

I laughed through my tears. "You wouldn't know where to begin!"

He blushed, and it was so endearing I wanted to ruffle his hair. His greasy, greasy hair. "I'd figure it out. Shut it," he growled, then gave me another concerned scowl. "What else happened?"

Of course he could tell.

Slowly, painfully, I told him what had gone on with Skyler. As I talked, his posture became more and more rigid and his face paled. When I was done, he just stared at me.

"You ran?" he asked incredulously. "He came out to you and you ran?"

I shook my head. "He didn't come out to me; weren't you listening? He did the opposite—"

"Bloody hell, Titch." Armand used both hands to scrub at his face. "That's exactly what he did. He told you a truth about himself, and you ran from him."

I glared, straightening up. "That's not what happened. You weren't there. You don't know." I'd thought he would understand. Weren't we the piners? "We could be great together! We could be perfect. My life was so close to being perfect, and I came so close to having everything I've ever wanted, and it was just ripped away." All I'd wanted was Skyler to see me as a romantic option, as something other than a small, helpless creature he kept having to save, but it turned out that me being pathetic wasn't even the problem. I'd been trying to romance a brick wall this entire time.

Armand sighed, watching me with those dark, hangdog eyes. "Look, Titch, I can't tell you how to feel—" he worked his jaw slightly "—but I think you've hurt Skyler quite badly—"

"I hurt him?" My voice echoed down the empty halls of the arts building.

Armand shook his head, biting his lower lip. He unfolded himself out of the chair and shrugged on his bag. "This is none of my business," he said. "Shall we?"

There was a coldness in his voice that made me want to start crying again, but I just stood aside so he could step out of his office and lock the door.

I really had thought he would understand.