The red velvet curtains parted and the lights dimmed. It was only a preview, a way to give the students an idea of how all of the elements came together to make a whole production. The music, lighting, voice acting and of course the marionettes… the part he’d given me, and the one thing of the three I knew the least about.

“You’ve got this Nora.” Troy reassured me. “Just keep moving your hands, and don’t let your strings get caught.”

So that’s what I did. Or what I tried to do. I held my puppet next to his. He danced his in a two-step, to the delight of our young audience. I wiggled the sticks like I’d been shown. Immediately my puppet tripped over both of its feet and hurled uncontrollably into Troy’s. It was as if I was dancing on stage next to him myself. Equally awkward, and totally embarrassing. The snickers and giggles grew into an uproar of laughter.

Troy groaned. “Thought you said you knew how to do this.” He moved behind me, the full length of his body sliding against me as he did. A tingle rippled down my spine. 

I looked up over my shoulder at him. “No, you said, I knew how. I said I was all thumbs.”

He glanced down, his face a mere inch from mine. “How is your thumb?”

“Fine.”

“And…” he scanned me from head to toe, “the rest of you.”

“Also fine.” I blushed, remembering the way he’d pulled my bruised thumb to his lips, before he pulled my lips to his lips, and then…

He tugged. I tugged. Until all that remained was a tangled mess of strings and bodies. Wooden bodies.

“Perfect.” He deadpanned. “You didn’t want strings, well, we’re entangled now aren’t we.”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Either way, he was right. We were entangled. And there were most definitely strings attached.