The courtyard is cool and blustery. Brown leaves are scraping across the walkways. The setting sun doesn't quite reach the ground between the buildings, and I feel bad when I see Evan sitting on a bench, wearing only a light jacket.

When he catches sight of me in his shirt, he's blowing warm air through his clenched hands. The sweater is the only extra layer that I have with me today. I'd rather not put it back on, but I may not have a choice.

"How'd it go?" he asks me as I sit down next to him.

I cross my arms and shiver immediately. "Don't act like you don't know." I say that with a nudge and a smile. I'm pretty sure he snuck into the back of the auditorium before I went on stage.

"You're right." He starts taking off his jacket. I'm about to stop him, but then I come up with a plan. "You were incredible. But how do you think you did?"

I sang She Used to Be Mine from Waitress and had a funny story to tell when they asked me about my day. "I got a little too emotional." It was no wash out, but I did wipe a tear away when I took a bow.

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I scoot closer to him and drape the jacket he gives me over both of our shoulders. It usually takes me some time to warm up to people, and he seems that way too, but I don't know. There's just something about him and the two of us together. I have butterflies, but I'm not nervous. It wasn't, and now it just is, and there's no going back.

"You not only hit every note, your delivery was fantastic," he goes on to say. "It was better than the original. Seriously. And I'm not the only one who noticed. The directors were spellbound, and Sadie Prescott practically had smoke coming out of her ears. You should have seen it!"

"You know," I lean my head on his shoulder. "This day wasn't so bad after all. Memorable, I'll give you that much..."

"So, what now?" he asks, taking my hand. I slide my other hand around his back and relish the warmth. "Are you going to spend the night in mourning? Begging the gods for justice? Ruing the day you ever ran into me?"

"You actually ran into me, and yes..." I feel him stiffen. "It was a lovely sweater. I'm really going to miss it."

At that, the tension breaks. "If it's any consolation, you can keep the shirt."

"I just might."

"It looks better on you anyway."