Then she heard herself replying, protesting that there was no such thing as love at first sight, but that ardent young Irish adventurer refused no for an answer and Helen backed away from him.
She heard a warning hiss from the wings but it was too late. She walked backwards into a pedestal with a vase of flowers.
There was a sudden crash of the falling pedestal and the tinkle of breaking glass.
The audience roared with laughter.
Helen was stunned for the moment. In her chance to make good in high school dramatics she had clumsily backed into the stand and upset it, breaking the vase. Tears welled into her eyes and her lips trembled. The senior was staring at her, too surprised to talk.
The laughter continued, and Helen seized the only chance for escape. Could she make it appear that the accident was a part of the play, a deliberate bit of comedy?
“Smile,” she whispered to the senior. “We can make it look like a part of the play. Follow my cue.” He nodded slightly to show that he understood.
The laughter subsided enough for them to continue their lines and Helen managed to smile. She hoped it wouldn’t look too forced.
“Look what you made me do,” she said, pointing at the wreckage of the vase.
“Sorry,” smiled the senior. “I’m just that way about you.”