Save Me

by Stephanie Street

  Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief once they were separated from the audience and then the hugging and congratulating began.

  Soon, I was swarmed by sweaty actors.

  “You guys were amazing!” And they had been.

  “Joie!” Ms. Lewis, a huge smile on her face as she led several grinning college representatives backstage, pulled me into an exuberant hug and whispered in my ear. “You nailed it.”

  “Thank you so much for taking a chance on me,” I told her through the tears clogging my throat.

  She patted my back for good measure. “You bet.” She stood up straight and presented me to the college people. I shook hands with each of them, accepting their congratulations and cursory reviews of the play and the performance.

  “Joie, I don’t think you need me to tell you tonight was an enormous success.” It was the recruiter from USC, Mr. Donovan. I fought down the butterflies in my stomach.

  “Thank you.” But do you want me? I wanted to ask so badly.

  “I talked to Ms. Lewis about how you pulled all of this together without an existing drama department or acting classes to draw talent from. I think that says a lot about your ability to direct.” He studied me for a moment. “Your writing was fresh and creative. Do you have more ideas?”

  “Oh, yes. A million. I have a hundred notebooks at home.” I forced myself to stop. I could really get carried away with my story ideas.

  Mr. Donovan nodded. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Warner. Congratulations. Enjoy this.” He gestured to all the giddiness going on around us.

  “Thank you, sir.” I stuck out my hand to shake his.

  Grinning, he accepted it. “I expect I’ll be seeing you soon.” And with a wink, he was gone, sucked into the crowd, while I stood rooted to my spot on the stage floor.

  “Woo-ee, Jo,” Cole crowed in my ear as he picked me up off the ground and spun me in a circle. “We did it!”

  Throwing my arms around his neck, I couldn’t help but laugh. A huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The recruiter liked my play. Gratitude for Cole warmed me, and I hugged him for real.

  “Because of you. You were amazing, Cole. Thank you.”

  Cole hugged me, too, before pulling back. “I’d do anything for you, you know that.” His tone was playful, and his eyes sparkled with happiness, but his words echoed with a sincerity that made my throat clog. Before I could talk myself out of it, I kissed his cheek again and pulled away from him to congratulate the other actors and to talk to members of the audience.

  The rest of the night was a blur! It was more than an hour after the performance ended before the auditorium finally emptied. I couldn’t stop smiling and figured my cheeks would be aching for the next week. I was congratulated, shook hands until I thought my arm would fall off, hugged, air-kissed on both cheeks, and all around praised for my writing and direction of the play. Mr. and Mrs. Parker beamed with so much pride you would never know they weren’t really my parents. They spent a good portion of the time snapping pictures of Cole and I and other members of the cast as well. It gave me the idea to create a photo video to present to the cast at the after party to be held on Saturday after the last performance.

  The representatives from USC and the other two schools I applied to have all pulled Cole aside to talk to him, I assumed to congratulate him on his performance, but the man from USC looked intent and after he shook Cole’s hand, he handed him a business card.

  Finally, it was time to leave. Cole’s parents and sister piled into the family SUV, while Cole and I rode alone in his car. We talked about the play and I told him what the recruiter from USC had said. He congratulated me but didn’t share what he’d discussed with the man.

  Later that night, Cole crept into my room. I was exhausted and barely registered his appearance but welcomed the warmth of his hand around mine as I drifted back to sleep.

  Chapter 24

  Joie

  The second performance ran just a smoothly as the first. The auditorium was packed, and Ms. Lewis thought it was likely a result of word of mouth, people who’d gone the first night telling friends to check it out. When the final curtain closed to thunderous applause, I couldn’t stop grinning.

  After the performance, in the quiet of my room, I fell asleep once more with my hand clasped safely in Cole’s.

  “Joie, I can’t make it.”

  What? “Trina, you have to be joking.” It wasn’t even a question. She had to be. It was two hours until curtain call for our third and final performance. We were expecting a sold-out crowd. Ms. Lewis had even told me to expect camera crews from the ten o’clock news. Trina had to be there!

  “I’ve been throwing up for hours. I just can’t.” She did sound terrible, weak and pitiful.

  Lowering my head to my hand, I prepared myself for Trina’s understudy to take over. Jessica wasn’t as good, but she did know the lines and had practiced with Cole. This was the business. Sometimes things happened, and I was going to have to roll with it. Yeah. Okay.

  “I’ll call Jessica.” We would be fine.

  “Um. Joie. I hate to tell you this, but Jess is sick, too. I think it was something we ate. We both went to this Mexican place late last night after the performance. She’s just as sick as I am, we shared an entree.”

  No. No, no, no.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  “I’m so sorry.” Trina sounded miserable. I needed to get off the phone. It wasn’t her fault. I have to keep telling myself that.

  “We’ll figure something out, Trina. You worry about getting better. I’ll see you later.” I disconnected the phone without saying goodbye. Hopefully Trina would understand.

  What was I going to do? You had an understudy for a reason! This was not supposed to happen. Suddenly, I felt sick.

  “Hey, what’s up? Is something wrong?” Eric’s concerned gaze took in my appearance. “What happened?”

  “Trina and Jess are sick.” No sense beating around the bush.

  Eric’s eyes widened. “Both of them?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Both of them. Food poisoning from the sound of it. What are we going to do?”

  “You can do it.”

  I whirled around at the sound of Cole’s voice behind me. He was already in his costume for his first scene, but he didn't have his stage makeup on yet.

  “Me?” He couldn’t be serious.

  “Why not? You know the lines. You know the blocking. You know all of it. What other choice to you have?” He made it should so simple. Just do it, Jo. It wasn’t that easy!

  “It’s not that easy!”

  “Sure, it is. We’ll be fine. We’re two nights in. Last night was practically flawless. Besides, who else could do it?” Cole shrugged, looking completely at ease.

  How could he be so casual about this?

  “He’s right.” Eric nodded. “You’re the only one that could do it. It’s that or cancel and we can’t do that. We sold advance tickets.”

  Dropping my head into my hand, I had to take a moment to wrap my brain around the idea. Could I do it? Cole was right, I did know the lines. And of course, I knew all the cues and props and blocking.

  I could do it.

  Glancing up to see them both staring at me with hopeful expressions, I knew I had to do this. I couldn’t let the cast down. We’d worked so hard.

  “Okay, well, we need to talk to Ms. Lewis about taking over for me and I need to get to wardrobe and makeup.”

  “Yes!” Cole cried, picking me up off the floor in a huge hug. “This is going to be epic!”

  Rolling my eyes toward Eric, I said, “Yeah, and hopefully not an epic failure.”

  Cole

  Seriously, it was like my dream come true. Not that I wanted Trina and Jess to be sick, but Joie as the lead opposite me in a play she’d written? I couldn’t have come up with a better scenario if I’d tried. Joie would never have agreed to it under normal circumstances, but for her to have to do it to save the day? Awesome!

&
nbsp; Watching from backstage as Joie made her first entrance for the opening scene, I wanted to pump my fists in the air and shout for joy. She was beautiful and perfect, and she had the audience eating out of her hand. Since shouting was out of the question, I decided to do something else. When it was my turn to go onstage, I made an entrance, pointing to Jo and pounding my fist over my heart. With her back to the audience, Joie grinned first and then scowled playfully, letting me know she appreciated the sentiment, but it was time to get to work. And work we did.

  The chemistry between us was unmistakable. Trina was good, but this thing with Joie was outstanding. We were playful. We were passionate. We were funny. We were in perfect sync. And on that stage, with my best friend, I fell in love.

  I’d always loved Joie. I’d always wanted Joie. But for the first time, I saw my future play out before my eyes. Joie and me forever. Married. A house. Kids. A family. In my heart I knew, more than I’ve ever wanted anything else, I wanted to be a family with Joie. The family she never had. It made my heart ache.

  I was on my best behavior. All through the play when Calvin was supposed to kiss the princess, Elle, I was professional. Little kisses that wouldn’t make anyone want to punch me. But in the end, when they got their happily ever after, I couldn’t help myself, I had to kiss her. And technically, I had her permission- it was written in the script.

  When Elle finally realizes Calvin is her one true love, Calvin sweeps her into his arms, and while his jealous step-brothers look on, kisses her. Cue spotlight. Cue happily-ever-after music. Cue close curtain. Except this time, instead of the closed mouth, tiny kiss I’d placed on Trina’s lips, I went for it. All the pent-up passion, longing, missing, and loving I’ve held in for the last three years- I let loose in that one kiss until I thought the emotions would combust us both. In fact, the happily-ever-after music ended, and the curtain finally closed, and I was still pouring every emotion I’d ever had into kissing Joie.

  Chapter 25

  Joie

  The world fell away. The audience. The other actors on stage. All of it. Until all that remained was Cole. Cole’s kiss. His lips. His arms. His body. It was like he wanted to consume me. And like I wanted to let him.

  Strike me down for admitting it, but I did want that kiss. I wanted it with every fiber of my being because I loved him. And because I was leaving. So, I kissed him back. I accepted every emotion he gave and returned it just as feverishly. My heart filled. My limbs weakened. My eyes stung with unshed tears.

  The curtain had closed. A sob lodged in my throat and Cole slowed the kiss from fiery passion to sweet tenderness. Until it broke me.

  “Cole.” My voice was broken, but not as broken as my heart. Because when Cole pulled back just enough for me to see into his eyes, the love and the hope reflected there were too much.

  “Joie, please, I lo-”

  “No! Don’t say anything.” If he said it. If I heard the words, I might not be able to go. And then I would never know. I would never know if I could make it on my own. If I could break the cycle that began with my sick and twisted parents. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to have a normal life like the one the Parker’s lived. Kids. Husband. Happiness. But I knew with a certainty, I had to become whole on my own. Relying on Cole would cripple me. In the end, I would become like her. Dependent. Weak. Broken.

  I had to go.

  I had to grow.

  Without Cole.

  And the look in his eyes? The one I’d put there because I stopped him from shredding my heart? It hurt. Oh, it hurt.

  Because I knew without a shadow of a doubt- I’d shredded his.

  That night Cole didn’t come into my room.

  Chapter 26

  Two years later

  Joie

  “Come on, Jo! The game’s about to start!”

  Butterflies swarmed my stomach. I had no idea what I had to be nervous about. I’d been watching the USC football games all season. In fact, I hadn’t missed any games since Freshman year.

  Unless we were playing Notre Dame.

  This year however, I was living off-campus in an apartment with my Freshman year roommate. Jemma and I had become the best of friends during the summer term before everyone else descended in the fall. We roomed together for two years straight before getting this apartment. Since we were both huge football fans, we’ve been hosting a party for every game with some of our friends. This was the last game of the regular season and when I tried to get out of it, Jemma had balked.

  I’d never talked to her about Cole. Hadn’t said his name out loud in over two years, in fact. Not since the day I left South Bend, hours after graduation. Mrs. Parker emailed me sometimes. She’d even texted once or twice, inviting me to come stay with them for the holidays, reassuring me I was always welcome to visit. I’ve never taken her up on the offer.

  Today would be the first time I’d seen him play football since middle school and I was almost debilitatingly emotional about it. Maybe I could fake a stomach bug?

  “Jo! You’re going to miss kickoff!”

  Closing my eyes and taking a deep breath, I tried to convince myself this wasn’t a big deal.

  Who was I trying to kid?

  It was a party atmosphere when I walked into our living room. Fifteen or more co-eds crammed into the small space, sprawled over the one sofa and every inch of carpet. Jemma, my roommate and her boyfriend, Dallas, cuddled in the big recliner. Open cans of pop sat on the coffee table and the two end tables. Bowls filled with pretzels and a variety of chips sat on tables and in laps.

  “I hope you stocked up on Mt. Dew, Joie!” Dallas called out, his eyes glued to the pre-game show. It was five minutes until kickoff. I struggled to sound normal, not wanting to get into a discussion about my issues, because my voice sounded as strangled as my heart felt.

  “Blasphemy! You know I won’t buy anything that looks like neon pee.” I paused, pretending to consider. “Unless it goes in my car.”

  This was a running joke between Dallas and I and drew a few chuckles from our friends.

  “I’ll turn you to the dark side yet, Jo,” Dallas teased.

  “I saved you a seat, Joie,” Malcolm called out gesturing to the scant inches between himself and the arm of the couch. “And got you a Dr. Pepper,” he added with a smirk at Dallas who made gagging noises.

  “Yeah, Jo. Better snag that seat while you can,” Jemma said, grinning.

  I shot her a look as I made my way over to the tiny bit of real estate on the couch. Jemma was always trying to set me up with different guys we knew. Malcolm was nice and super-hot, and I knew he was interested, but...I just couldn’t seem to talk myself into working up the energy to figure out if I liked him or not.

  The thing was- I hadn’t dated anyone since leaving Indiana. It wasn’t like I was pining after Cole or anything. I wasn’t. I just hadn’t met anyone yet that made me want to trust. I’ve been talking to my therapist about it. She said it would come with time and congratulated me on the friendships I’d made at school. Jemma and Dallas and everyone else- well, we had become like a family. And for now, it was enough.

  “Thanks, Malcolm,” I greeted as I squeezed into my spot on the couch and accepted the can of Dr. Pepper. There wasn’t much space on the couch, my body was pressed against Malcolm from shoulder to knee.

  “Here. It’s crowded.” He grinned and shifted, putting his arm along the back of the couch. It did give me more room, but now I was snuggled under his shoulder. I sent Jemma a wide-eyed look.

  “Malcolm brought some Peanut Butter M&M’s, too. Your favorite.” Jemma winked again.

  “Here they come!” Dallas yelled almost unseating Jemma on his lap.

  The room erupted in cheers as the USC Trojans came running out of the tunnel. We watched the coin toss. Notre Dame would have the ball first.

  “Notre Dame,” Sam, one of our other friends sneered from his position on the floor. “I can’t stand Notre Dame.”

  “Better be nice, Sam. Joie
here is a South Bend native,” Jemma warned.

  I felt more than a couple eyes turn to me like I was a turncoat or something. “Go Trojans!” I cheered, pumping my fist in the air, making everyone laugh.

  “Are you really from South Bend,” Malcolm asked.

  I just nodded, my eyes glued to the tv. Would Cole be playing? Of course, he would. According to the internet, he’d been the Irish’s starting quarterback since the middle of his freshman season when the starting senior got injured. He’d led his team to nine victories this season and if the Irish won today they would go to a Bowl game. The Trojans kicked off and the Irish ran the ball a few yards before being tackled. The offense ran out on the field. The commentator said Cole’s name and my body jerked like I’d been shocked with a defibrillator.

  “Are you okay,” Malcolm asked, glancing at me with a concerned expression.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered, but I wasn’t.

  There he was. Cole Parker, number eleven. The sunlight gleamed off his golden helmet as he made his way onto the field. On the screen, Cole lined up behind the center. And then- what was he doing? Stricken, I watched as the camera focused on Cole. He raised his fist and pounded it to his chest over his heart.

  “What a poser,” Dallas jeered.

  “Why do you say that,” Jemma asked.

  Both were oblivious to the arrow that had just been aimed at my heart, piercing it with a direct hit.

  “He does that thing every game before the first snap, he pounds his chest,” Sam answered, shaking his head with disgust.

  “He does,” I asked, my voice not my own. I stared at the tv, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. What did it mean? Why would Cole do that?