by Botts, Liz
Josh’s smile dropped. “I’m Josh,” he replied, “not Kyle.”
Harlow opened her eyes in faux shock. “Oops, sorry,” she said without sounding the least bit sincere.
“And you are?” Josh asked.
“I’m Harlow, of course,” Harlow pouted. “Doesn’t my baby sister ever talk about me?”
Josh frowned at her, then briefly at me before transferring his gaze back to Harlow. “I guess we aren’t close enough for that.
Excuse me, I need to find my parents.”
Tears pricked my eyes as Josh walked away. I shook my head at Harlow, not wanting to let her, or anyone else, see me cry.
The kitchen seemed like the safest place to be, so I hurried in there to hide. From my stool at the island, I had a perfect view of Josh talking to his parents, and then leaving.
As the front door slammed behind him, my heart squeezed first with pain and then with anger. What was his problem anyway? He knew all about Harlow and what she was capable of doing. Well, fine, if he was that upset over one stupid thing my sister said, then I’d be mad that he left without even asking me for an explanation.
It still hurt, though, but being mad was easier than dealing with the pain.
****
After the party, Hayley and I lounged on her bed talking about Harlow’s theatrics. The evening hadn’t gotten any better. We all heaved a sigh of relief when she sailed out the door at nine o’clock.
“I’m so glad she doesn’t live here anymore,” Hayley said, tossing her backpack on the bed beside me.
I picked up her school planner and started flipping through it idly. Hayley began organizing her homework for the next day.
Suddenly my eyes caught a tiny notation she had made on the May calendar. Prom. Spelled out in pink glitter pen. I stared at the date dumbly while running through dates in my head.
“Hayley?”
“Huh?”
“I just realized that Grandma’s wedding is the day after prom.” Hayley stopped shoving books in to her backpack. “What?”
I showed her the dates. Her face crumpled in dismay. Even though I didn’t have a date yet and things were suddenly tense with Josh, I shared Hayley’s feelings.
We sat there for a long time staring stupidly at the calendar.
****
Josh and I were tense with each other the whole next day at school. By the time we got to rehearsal that afternoon, we were both on edge. Josh didn’t actually speak to me until we were sitting down to put our make-‐-up on.
“Wait, you mean I have to wear make-‐-up too,” Josh frowned at me. “Well, yeah, everyone wears make-‐-up for a show,” I shrugged. “You’ve been in shows before.”
Josh watched me applying the white foundation to my forehead and his frown deepened. “Yeah,” he said, “but tonight’s just a dress rehearsal. Not even a full one or anything. I mean, we have school tomorrow.”
“So?” I smeared the thick base over my nose.
“Well, what if, you know, I can’t get it off or something. I can’t be wearing eyeliner to school.” Josh sat down next to me as I giggled. “I’m serious. Don’t laugh.”
“You have to wear make-‐-up,” I replied. “But don’t worry I’ll help you get it all off at the end of the night. Honestly what did you do at your old school when you were in shows?”
“Okay, fine,” Josh huffed. He picked up a soft sponge and tentatively dabbed it into the base. He touched to it to his cheek with the faintest of touches. “I got away with not wearing any. Our director never cared very much.”
I watched him continue this little ritual in the mirror for a few more seconds. “You know, you’ll never finish if you do it like that,” I pointed out.
Josh scowled at me. “This isn’t funny,” he said, grumpily.
“Oh, it is,” I assured him. Josh patted at his nose again, barely getting any white foundation on at all. “Do you want me to do that for you?”
“No,” Josh huffed.
“Fine, suit yourself.” I shrugged. “You’ll probably end up looking like a clown at the rate your going, though. Just giving you a fair warning.”
“Fine,” Josh grumbled. “You can do it for me, but you have to make me look good.”
I grabbed the make-‐-up sponge from him, annoyed and amused. “You can be such a baby sometimes,” I complained, smearing a good portion of his face in one swipe.
Behind us, someone cleared his throat. We turned and Kyle was standing there frowning at us. “Will you two be ready for curtain?” He snapped. “I want this rehearsal to run smoothly.”
“We’ll be ready,” I promised.
“Better be,” Kyle muttered as he stormed away.
I turned to Josh with a bemused grin. “He’s so crabby lately.
I think all the pressure’s getting to him. Maybe his head will explode.”
Josh grinned but continued to stare after Kyle. “I’m telling you,” he said slowly, “the guy has a major thing for you. Maybe you should put him out of his misery.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, and dropped the make-‐-up sponge on the dressing table. Pushing my chair back, I stood up. As I turned to walk away, Josh caught my hand.
“Hey,” he said, “where are you going? I thought you were going to help me with my make-‐-up.”
Shrugging and doing my best to give the impression that I didn’t care, I said, “Maybe I’m ready to take your advice and go put Kyle out of his misery. Besides, I’m sure one of your groupies would love to assist you.”
“Hey,” Josh said again, only more softly this time. “I was just kidding. I know it bugs you. I won’t say it again, okay?”
He tugged my hand and I took a step closer, sitting back down in my chair. My heart was starting to do all sorts of crazy, arrhythmic things as I realized that Josh still hadn’t let go of my hand.
“Help me with my make-‐-up, and then let’s get out there and rock the stage,” Josh cajoled.
I couldn’t resist him, with his big eyes and his hand wrapped firmly around mine. I was more certain than ever that he liked me as much as I liked him, and I was getting mightily frustrated that he wouldn’t do anything about it. Picking up the sponge felt like the most intimate gesture suddenly. I wondered if maybe I could make the first move, but as I brushed some foundation across Josh’s jaw, I knew that I didn’t have the guts for that. So I would revert back to the waiting game. If he didn’t hurry up, the show would be over, and then what? I had no clue if he would continue to sit with us at lunch, or if he and I would continue to hang out even as friends.
As I put the finishing touches on his make-‐-up, Josh caught my hand again. “Hey,” he said, “I need to talk to you about something.”
His eyes were serious, belying his light tone, and I shivered.
My gut told me to run screaming because the outcome of any serious talk couldn’t be good for my poor heart. Instead of jumping up and heading for the nearest exit, I found myself nodding agreement.
Josh glanced around, and opened his mouth to say something, when Kaylee shrieked through the green room,
“Curtain in five! And I mean five!”
Frowning, Josh said, “I guess we’ll have to talk later.”
“Okay,” I whispered before following him up to the stage.
I nearly forgot about our promised talk as the frenetic pace of the rehearsal engulfed me. My brain did manage to register how amazing Josh looked when he emerged on stage in his tux. It wasn’t until we were waiting in the wings that I realized we were actually going to talk later. My stomach instantly filled with carnivorous butterflies. I tried to focus all my attention on the stage so my mind wouldn’t drift to the upcoming conversation and how it could change everything. And change in my head was all in capital letters with huge exclamation points and arrows dancing around it.
Josh tugged at the collar of his tux. “This is ridiculous. I’m boiling in this thing,” he grumbled.
The chorus was in the middle of their
big band number, so I grabbed Josh’s hand without thinking and pulled him out the side door. Immediately the air felt cooler in the deserted hallway than it had waiting in the wings.
Josh was still fussing with his tux, mumbling, “I don’t see why we have to wear this stuff tonight. The play doesn’t even open for a week.”
I suppressed a laugh. “It is called a dress rehearsal,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you aren’t wearing your costume,” Josh countered.
“It isn’t done yet,” I said.
“Still,” Josh replied.
I rolled my eyes at him. “I brought you out here to help you cool down.”
“Not working,” Josh informed me. “This tux has to be made out of double thick wool or something. It’s making me itch like crazy. And could it be any hotter under those stupid stage lights?”
“You are a whiny one,” I snickered. Josh frowned at me.
Apparently, nothing about this situation was the least bit funny to him, which, incidentally, wasn’t my fault. I had nothing to do with costumes for this show. “Come here,” I instructed, taking his hand again. This time we both noticed what I had done, and the ever clichéd jolt of electricity zipped up my arm. I dropped his hand fast. Josh just stared from me to the space where are hands had spent a nano-‐-second joined together.
He took a step toward me, and looked like he wanted to say something, but I cut him off. “Roll up your sleeve,” I said, quickly.
Josh looked amused, but did as he was told. “Now put your wrist here,” I continued, pointing to the metal banister. “My junior high drama teacher showed us this trick. If you put the inside of your wrist on something cold, it helps cool you down.”
Josh pressed his wrist against the banister near mine, and actually closed his eyes in relief. “That’s actually a little better,” he admitted. His eyes flickered open and he smiled at me. “Thanks.”
The smile must have been what did me in because I felt my stomach get all quivery and I’m sure I blushed. Thank goodness for the copious amounts of stage make-‐-up caked on my face. I worked up a small smile in return. “No problem.”
Just then, the stage door burst open and a frantic looking Kaylee jumped out. “There you two are!” She gasped. “You need to get on stage. Now!”
Chapter Eighteen
Waking up with a sore throat made me shriek, which I immediately bit back for fear of further damaging my voice. I must have shrieked loud enough to alarm Mom, though, because she came rushing in looking quite alarmed.
“I have a sore throat,” I whimpered.
Mom put a hand to my forehead and clearly failed to see the enormity of the situation. “You don’t have a fever,” Mom said. “But I suppose you should stay home to be on the safe side.”
She gave me a list of one hundred and three instructions for my sick day. Okay, not that many, but there were a lot, including no boys in the house and no going to school. Really, Mom? What boys would I have over? And if I snuck off to school, what trouble would I be in exactly? When everyone had left I took a shower, changed into my Josh baseball t-‐-shirt—which still smelled like him— and went to the kitchen where I made some tea with honey.
I texted Kaylee and Maggie and Josh before I settled down to watch mindless daytime TV. Maggie texted me during third hour that Jenny was saying this would be her big break, and she hoped I didn’t recover too quickly. My stomach tightened when I thought about Jenny filling in for me at a dress rehearsal. With my luck, today would be the day they rehearsed the kiss. I turned off the TV
and roamed around the house aimlessly.
Kaylee arrived during lunch with some Throat Coat tea from Ms. Bard. “She swears this will make your throat feel better by tomorrow.”
She left quickly just in case I was actually contagious. Mom called to check on me during her lunch hour. When I told her that I was feeling better and thought maybe I should go to school for the afternoon, she told me that I should go take a nap. I did lie down after drinking two cups of the Throat Coat tea, which actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
I couldn’t sleep, though, so I tried reading. When I realized I was reading the same paragraph over and over, I tried TV again.
The reality was that all I could think about was Josh kissing Jenny.
It was torture. And why hadn’t Josh texted me back yet? I hated daytime TV. All that was on was soap operas and talk shows. The soap operas were absurd. When I was little and Grandma was slightly normal, I spent my summers watching soap operas with her. I loved the wild drama and the elegant romance that I didn’t understand. Grandma felt it was a good lesson in sex education.
Mom would have been appalled had she ever found out.
The talk shows were either disgusting or whiny. Maybe they suited me more, as I felt pretty whiny today. I checked my phone at least a dozen times, even though it buzzed when I got a text message. The only text I got was from Maggie asking how I was doing. I dragged my butt off the sofa after another round of channel surfing and made a cup of Throat Coat tea.
I decided to order a sappy romantic movie from cable. As I curled up under a blanket, I decided to text Josh again. What to say, though. I clutched my phone, emotions warring within me. My desperate love almost won out, but finally frustration and jealousy surfaced. I quickly typed ‘have fun with jenny’, and sent it before I could think too much about it. Then I ordered my movie and snuggled down on the sofa.
I fell asleep about halfway through the movie. I dreamed that Josh and I were in a car driving somewhere. He looked tense and I felt tense. Suddenly he stopped the car and got out. I opened my door and followed him. We were in a meadow filled with flowers. Suddenly the car was gone, and we truly were alone in the middle of nowhere. The beauty of the scene overwhelmed me, but when I turned to Josh, he was dancing around in the middle of the field with Jenny. Josh sang the Eric Carmen mix to her, and she gazed up at him with such adoration it made me sick. Then Josh leaned down and kissed her. And broke my heart.
I woke up to the sound of the front door slamming shut. My breath hitched in my throat and I realized that my cheeks were damp with tears. Had I been crying in my sleep?
It was only a dream.
It was only a dream.
It was only a dream.
I chanted the mantra over and over.
“Hey,” Hayley called from the kitchen. “How are you doing?”
I rubbed the tears off my cheeks and replied, “Okay. How was school?”
Hayley came into the living room laden with milk and cookies. Plopping down in an armchair, she shrugged. “School,”
she said. “Our cheer practice got cancelled today, so Mike drove me home after play practice.”
“Is it that late?” I gasped looking at the clock. Sure enough, it was almost dinnertime. Mom and Dad would be home soon too.
Then what Hayley said registered in my sleep-‐-addled brain and I asked, “So you stayed for play practice? Did you see everything?”
Hayley dunked a cookie in milk and practically swallowed it whole. “Yeah,” she said. “That Jenny is way into Josh.”
“Oh?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Hayley laughed. “Whatever. I know you care. Don’t worry.
Josh isn’t interested in her. You can tell.”
I swallowed. That was good anyway. Still, I was a masochist and I needed to know. “Did they, um, did they rehearse the kiss scene?” Eating another cookie, Hayley practically choked as she giggled hysterically and spit out huge chunks of cookie. “I knew you’d ask that,” she said. “Mike told me how that’s the one scene that keeps getting pushed off or rewritten. Why doesn’t Kyle want you to rehearse it? Does he like you still? That’s creepy.”
“Hayley!” I chucked a throw pillow at her. “Just put me out of my misery. Did they rehearse it or not?”
Reading my exasperation, Hayley shook her head. “Not even close. Although Jenny did lobby for it pretty hard. Apparently she thinks
you’re totally down for the count and she’s going to get to star in the show now.”
I sighed with relief. But then my snarky text to Josh drifted back to me. I’d sent it without really thinking. And now I felt the regret that I should have felt before I did it. I grabbed my phone and checked to see if anyone had texted me. Nope. Well, if Josh couldn’t even be bothered to text me back to yell at me, I wasn’t texting him to apologize.
“What are you watching?” Hayley changed the subject, grabbing the remote off the coffee table. She clicked around until she found some mindless show that we watched until Mom and Dad got home from work.
My throat was pretty much better, but Mom still insisted that I eat chicken soup and Jell-‐-O for dinner. And it wasn’t anything homemade, just from a can. Not that I’m complaining, but everyone else was having Chinese take-‐-out and it smelled a whole lot better than my food tasted.
Hayley had brought home my homework, so after dinner I made yet another cup of tea and went upstairs to my bedroom to poke at that until bedtime. I felt sulky because Josh still hadn’t texted me. Not that I could blame him. I had been kind of rude.
I finished my homework by eight-‐-thirty, and I didn’t want to go to bed yet. So I pulled out a silly romance novel Grandma had given me for my birthday. If I couldn’t have my own romance, at least I could live vicariously through the characters in my novel. I pulled up the musical’s playlist on my I-‐-pod and popped my ear buds in my ears. That’s probably why I didn’t hear the knock on my door. And that’s probably why I nearly had a heart attack when I looked up and saw Josh holding a paper bag standing in my doorway grinning. He took in my current state of relaxation, my choice of reading material, and my choice of attire, and grinned wider.
I sat up and pulled the ear buds out of my ears. “Hey,” I said somewhat breathlessly.
“Hey,” Josh echoed taking a few more steps into my room.
“Your mom said I could come up as long as the door stays open.
She said she didn’t want any funny business.”