After the show Jesse meets us outside. He has changed into his regular clothing—pale ripped jeans, a pink T-shirt and a denim jacket embroidered with pink and white lotus flowers. He loops his arm in mine and rests his head against my shoulder. “Thanks for being there for the performance, Richie darling.”

“I told you I would. And you asked three times today. And twice yesterday. The answer was always yes.”

Bailey pinches Jesse’s cheeks and gives him a kiss on his forehead. “You were amazing!” He shrugs off her attention and I step in between them. I don’t know if he wants her to pinch his cheeks, but I don’t like it. She shrugs and gives me a crooked smile.

“Did you like the show?” Jesse asks.

“I liked your piece. The other ones made me uncomfortable. Except the one with the waves. That was interesting. The costumes anyway.”

Jesse grins, “I think you’d look great in a sarong. I can see if they have one in your size.”

“Too drafty.”

Jesse smiles wide at this and Danny laughs out loud. They start talking about some of the other dances and I stop paying attention. I watch Jesse’s face as he talks. I thought he talked with his hands, but he talks with his face too. 

Kit waves a hand in front of my eyes to get my attention. “Hey, we’re going to hang out at Bailey’s. You wanna come?”

Jesse tugs at my sleeve. “Please?”

“Fine.” 

Bailey’s dorm isn’t too far from ours, but it is an entirely different set up. It is more like a traditional apartment building and it is a lot newer. The walls are painted a soft blue color and are hung with art done by former students; some of them famous alumni. A lot of the grad students live here. Bailey won the housing lottery and is one of few underclassmen to get a room here.

She has a quad with a common room so there is a lot more space than I was expecting. There is a long couch, two armchairs and a handful of floor cushions arranged around a low table. The room is on the corner of the building and has windows on two sides. One wall is hung with a giant canvas. There is a bookshelf with small cans of paint and a clay jar of paintbrushes arranged like a bouquet.

“Work in progress,” Jesse says, noticing my gaze.

“What?”

“That’s the title of the piece.” Bailey walks over to the canvas and grabs a paintbrush. She holds it out toward me. “Care to contribute?”

“No.”

Jesse pokes me in the ribs. “Not even a teeny bit? Not even one brush stroke?”

I don’t bother to answer.

Bailey’s roommates are out for the evening, which she says is pretty common. It’s a quiet dorm and they go for more raucous entertainment.

For this post-recital gathering, there is nothing on the agenda but hanging out. At least I don’t have to worry about making small talk. They all know me enough by now. 

Bailey puts on some music—but I quickly improve her selections. Her tastes run strictly to meaningless, prepackaged, bubblegum pop. My playlist includes pretty much everything but that; time to broaden her horizons.

Kit takes a turn at the canvas, adding some angular branches to the outer edges, framing the lower left side. Danny sits cross legged on the floor, offering color commentary.

Bailey folds her legs up under herself on one side of the couch and takes out some knitting. I think it’s a fuzzy pink scarf. Or a horribly misshapen sweater. Possibly an arm.

I finish making adjustments to the playlist. Jesse is sitting on the couch opposite Bailey. He pats the seat beside him. “Here babe, I saved you a spot.” He winces as he moves his arm, reaching back to rub his shoulder. I’m not surprised he is hurt now that I’ve seen him dance.

“I saved you a spot too.” I point to the floor in front of his seat. Jesse looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “Trust me,” I say, pushing him off the couch and taking his spot.

He sits between my legs with his back against the couch. I begin by resting my hands on the top of his shoulders, palms against his shoulder blades. I let my hands warm his shoulders for a while. Jesse sighs and relaxes into me before I even start. When I do, his back feels like it's made of wrought iron. It’s easy to find the knots. Harder to work on them. Jesse sucks in air through his teeth when I press on a tight spot near his shoulder blade. 

I back off on the pressure, but Jesse puts his hand on mine, holding it in place. “No, it’s good. Keep going.”

It takes a long time to release even a small amount of the tension in his shoulders. I have to use my elbow on the left side. It will take more than one half-assed massage sitting on the floor of Bailey’s dorm room to deal with that. I wonder if it’s merely tight from the performance or if there is an old injury. I wonder how he can move so gracefully with so much tension. He must be in pain all the time. A lot of pain.

When I’m done, Jesse lays his head on my leg and gives a long sigh. “Fuck, Richie. That was better than sex.”

“Do me next!” Bailey says, raising her hand.

“Back off. This one’s mine,” Jesse growls, which makes everyone laugh.