She had only a couple scenes in the play, yet she'd show up at the start and watch the entire rehearsal. I knew she wasn't a theatre major, so I had to guess she was hanging around extra to check out a dude, and I figured that dude might be me since there was only one other single dude in the play, and he was Fay. A blind man could see that when she chatted with him it seemed more like girlfriends gossiping than heteros flirting.
When Veronica and I chatted, which was not often because I was involved in most every scene, we said very little, which led me to think, or believe, or more to the point hope like a bastard, that we were treading lightly around emotions we wished could erupt into a one way trip to love. (Please feel free to use the final seventeen words of that paragraph in a song - but understand, the song will probably suck if you do).
Robert, our great director, decided would be best for Veronica and I to work on the sensitive scene we shared at the end of each night's rehearsal. "The set will be closed," he announced to the cast, which meant no one else would be allowed to watch. I felt like kissing Robert right then and there because ending rehearsals (we rehearsed on the top floor of a working dairy barn), with only Robert around to compete for Veronica's attention, would allow me fantastic opportunities to utilize my highly evolved ability to woo ... which of course I did not and still do not have. But being the politest, sweetest, most humble and content young man to bid Veronica "Night," under a dozen or so of the absolute most perfectly clear star filled summer Vermont evenings, couldn't hurt my chances.