After the game was over – Amy’s team won three to one, so she was an excited chatterbox in the car – we drove to our favorite ice cream place, which was our little secret when she won mid-week games. Mom only ever came to the Saturday games, and usually didn’t stay long, so it was my way to show Amy how important this was, at least to me, even if my parents didn’t seem to care.
But Taylor, well, thank god for her. She kept up with everything Amy said, asking her questions and praising her for kicking us good goals and not using her hands, etc. For someone who had never seen soccer before, Taylor caught on quick.
Amy must have approved of Taylor’s attention, because as soon as we stopped in front of the ice cream shop, Amy was out of the car and around to Taylor’s side, grabbing her hand and pulling her out. She skipped up the curb to the door, yanking Taylor behind her. Taylor threw me an exasperated look, but I just laughed and held the door for both of them.
“Just vanilla in a cone,” Taylor ordered a few minutes later, while I snatched my double scoop rocky road and chocolate peanut butter sundae topped with whipped cream, hot fudge, and a cherry from the counter. My sister was gleefully chomping down on a rainbow-colored unicorn sherbet with pop rocks and squealing every time one of them burst in her mouth. Taylor laughed and so did I.
“So... vanilla?” I asked Taylor softly, while Amy continued to marvel at the most awesome ice cream ever. I rolled my eyes at Taylor.
“I like vanilla,” she giggled.
Deep down, I knew we were talking about two different things. My teenage boy brain tried to tell me Taylor was not making some sort of innuendo; no, she was too innocent for that. But, I also had an infinite supply of hormones telling me she actually was saying something I had to read into, because she winked as she said it.
“Do you?” I asked and winked back.
Amy was still very, very interested in her magical ice cream, which was getting dangerously low, so I reached under the table and quickly grasped Taylor’s hand and squeezed it.
“Vanilla is pretty boring,” Amy interjected, crunching on her cone now. “It doesn’t have pop rocks or colors.”
“It doesn’t have to be flashy to be good,” Taylor told her. “It just has to be sweet and nice.”
“And it also needs a star for his play,” I leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Come to auditions tomorrow?”
She gasped slightly and bit her lip, her cone forgotten for a moment; it froze halfway to her mouth. I bet her lips tasted sweet like vanilla, and I hated that my sister sat across from us, preventing me from doing what I really wanted to do right now.
I settled for letting go of her hand, but she closed hers over mine and let it rest on her thigh.
Amy finished her cone and was licking her fingers. I reluctantly stood and snatched a few napkins out of the holder on the counter. “Here,” I shoved them at Amy, “don’t lick your fingers like that, you know better.”
As if the gods knew I was having too good of a day, my sister looked right at me and announced in her little kid way, “You guys sure do hold hands a lot for someone who’s not datin’.”
I found it hard to do anything except bad attempts at swallowing. She swung her little shin-guard clad legs over the edge of the seat, hopped down, and reached for Taylor’s hand. Taylor got up and let Amy pull her toward the door, throwing me an exasperated glance. I followed them to the car, both wiping sweat from my forehead and trying not to laugh. It was a terrible feeling.
When we were all buckled in and I was backing out of the parking space, Amy kicked her legs behind me and blurted, “Don’t worry, Ethan, I like her.” In the rearview mirror I could see her picking some imaginary lint or something off her shorts. “She reminds me of Maeve. I’m not gonna tell Mom, ‘k?”
Next to me, I briefly saw Taylor frown.
It didn’t surprise me she’d be upset at Maeve’s name, but considering the only conversation we’d had was for me to tell her it was my best friend – not girlfriend, not for lack of trying, I’d left that detail out – Taylor handled it well, I thought. Someday I’d have to tell her what really happened, but I didn’t want to think about that right now.
I stopped down the block from Taylor’s house, reluctant to even let her out so far away in the near darkness. The sun had just set, so it was more like twilight, but still, she had about eight houses before hers.
“’Bye, Taylor!” Amy waved from the back.
“You sure you’re okay getting home?” I leaned over her seat as she got out and stared up at her.
She leaned against the window frame. “Yup, I walk to school all the time,” she reminded me.
“Not anymore, I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning.”
She glanced in the direction of her house. “Ethan, I don’t know...”
“We’ll have time to get coffee.”
Her face changed then, and I knew I had her. “Okay,” she agreed, her accent thick. She shut the door slowly, and even though Amy could still see her, Taylor blew me a kiss and pressed her hand to the window.
I watched her walk away before I turned the car around to head back across town.
“You like her a lot, huh?” Amy said just as we turned into the driveway. The house was dark, which meant another late day at the office for my parents.
I got out as Amy opened her door. “I guess,” I told her. “She’s pretty cool, right?”
“Yeah, she’s cool.” Amy skipped to the front door, ignoring me.
I jogged after her and unlocked the door. “What makes you think I like her?”
Amy spun on her cleats, stumbling a little when she realized her dramatic flair required different footwear. “Cuz,” she scratched her head, “you look at her just like you did Maeve.”
Chapter 12
Taylor
“I’m trying out for the lead role.”
I peeked from behind the curtain as Susanna took the stage. I didn’t like her, nor was I crazy about working with her. Ever since Angelica’s suspension, however, Susanna had been a little lost, it seemed. She ate lunch alone most days and didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Maybe being in the play with her wouldn’t be so bad. That is, if she didn’t get the lead role I was here to try out for.
Which, by the way, I must have been crazy to attempt. I could sing, I could dance, I was definitely better at the latter. But act? Could I act, deliver lines? To Ethan’s standards?
How different could this be from reciting Bible verses or performing in a spelling bee? I could do this. I can do this. My familiar stage anxiety was creeping up on me, and I consumed it, using it to fuel my passion for this play. Ethan wouldn’t shut up about it and wouldn’t let it go until I tried out.
So, here I was. He was nothing if not persistent.
And cute.
Very cute.
Meanwhile, Ethan glanced at the choir teacher, Mr. Jackson, who was knee-deep in grading papers and didn’t seem to be paying attention very much. I had a feeling Susanna would try out of the lead, but I didn’t think Ethan would cast her.
“You’ve already been cast for Gracey, Lilla’s spunky friend,” Jackson stated without looking up, “so the answer’s no, Susanna.”
“But... ” she whined. It grated on my nerves.
Ethan motioned her off the stage with a distracted flick of his hand, obviously bidding her be gone. I hid a smirk. Ethan talked with his hands all the time, so it didn’t surprise me he’d dismiss Susanna in such a way. I knew they had a history, so I felt a little more confident with what I was about to do.
I must be insane, I thought, willing my legs to stop from shaking under me. I didn’t get what was wrong. I danced on a stage since I was a child and sang in church choir for most of my life at the bequest of my mother. I hadn’t tried out for The Little Mermaid; I was just kind of picked for the part because I was one of the best dancers in class. This was the first time I’d actually have to perform in front of anyone by myself, without a chorus of dancers or singers behind m
e. And what was worse? I was performing for Ethan.
What if I sucked at this and he hated me after? Would he still want to be with me? Or would he dismiss me like he had Susanna?
Ethan and Jackson were busy conferring about something I couldn’t overhear. In the right wing, a few other students were laughing and joking around, and I saw Susanna point directly at me.
I was alone on stage with the lights shining mercilessly done on me, and I felt the sweat running down the small of my back.
Ethan was ignoring me, and the other students were making fun of me.
But I wasn’t going to let that stop me.
I balled my fists at my side and found my voice finally, but it wasn’t the song I wanted to sing, nor was it anything I planned for. It was, however, the song nearest and dearest to my heart, the one my mother used to sing to me, the only one I could sing fully a cappella.
“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me...”
My voice was small, nervous, tinny. I unclenched my fists and let the music flow through me, a tone in my head that flowed out of my mouth.
“I once was lost, but now I’m found...”
The irony wasn’t lost on me as I watched Ethan’s face turn from annoyance into enraptured amusement. He stared at me with wide eyes, and even Jackson took notice. The jibes of the other students faded into oblivion and it was just me, my voice, the stage, and Ethan.
“Was blind, but now I see...” I belted that line, holding my diaphragm, standing as straight as I could. I don’t remember closing my eyes, but somehow they were squeezed shut.
I finished the song and when I opened my eyes, Ethan was still staring. Jackson stood and clapped and smiled widely.
“Wow, Taylor, that was truly remarkable!” Jackson exclaimed, but the appreciative smile on his face was nothing to match Ethan’s.
I wasn’t that good – was I?
“She’s better than Angelica,” I heard Susanna whisper to someone off stage.
“Well, I think you’ve got the role,” Ethan announced, smiling widely.
Jackson elbowed Ethan lightly. “Do you want to talk about it? She’s got the pipes, clearly, but can she even dance?
Ethan shook his head. “Yup. I saw her in action a few weeks ago. She was the star in The Little Mermaid show at the theater.”
Jackson pursed his lips and nodded. “Well, it’s your play. If you think she’s right, then go ahead.”
Ethan pumped a fist close to him, smiled even wider – if that was even possible – and looked at the stage. “Susanna! Come out and read with Taylor, will you?”
Dressed in ripped jeans but a perfectly flowing cream-colored top, Susanna flounced onto the stage. Ethan handed me a bundled script and told us to perform page three.
Susanna cleared her throat and started her line, “‘Lilla? Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!’”
I was scanning the page and almost missed my cue as I quickly located my line. “‘I’m afraid I’ve stumbled on something absolutely horrible!’”
“‘What is it?’”
“‘A hat.’”
“‘It can’t be just a normal hat,’” Susanna whined perfectly.
“‘Gracey, you don’t understand. It’s changing people! Everyone who wears it turns into something else. Something horrible.”
“‘Well, what does this hat look like?’”
“‘It’s a top hat, of course, and...’”
Susanna pulled a hat out from behind her. “‘You mean like this one?’” She tucked her script under her arm and promptly pulled the hat over her head. It was much too large for her petite head and slipped over her eyes. Luckily, I saw she already knew her lines pretty well. “That’s your line,” she whispered to me.
“Oh! ‘Gracey, no! Don’t put it on! You’ll...’”
Susanna’s voice changed into a gravelly growl. “‘Who is Gracey? Take me to your leader...’”
“That’s not in the script,” Ethan nearly growled. “Say the line right, Susanna.”
She turned partially toward him, but it was clear she couldn’t see him well. “But it’s so dumb.”
Ethan glared at her, which she couldn’t see. I stifled a giggle with my fist. “Just read the line the way it’s written, please.”
“Fine,” Susanna whined, elongating the ‘I’ sound a little too much. “‘Who is Gracey? There is no Gracey. Only Zorg.’”
I read the next line, then turned to Ethan. “Um, it says I rolled up my script and hit her with it?”
“Yes,” Ethan grinned.
I burst out laughing. What kind of play was this? I glanced at him again, then rolled up my script and bopped Susanna on the head. “‘Stop messing around Gracey, it’s not funny!’”
Susanna popped the hat off and unrolled her script and glanced at it. “‘Relax, it’s just a prop, see?’” She held it out and I looked at it like the script said. “‘It’s just too easy to mess with you. Now what were you talking about?’”
I glanced at my script briefly. “‘I told you, I saw it take over Mr. Albert, he was in the chemistry lab mixing weird blue stuff and speaking another language.’”
“‘Show me,’” Susanna announced, tucking the hat under her arm.
“End scene,” Ethan announced. He clapped his script against his free hand. He looked at Jackson, who nodded. “That was awesome.”
“Well, I’m glad we have our lead at least. We’ve only got eight weeks until opening night,” Jackson told him. He glanced up from the table where he sat. “You’re going to have to get her up to speed, we’re off script next week, aren’t we?”
Ethan met my gaze and smiled slightly, then turned to Jackson. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her caught up. Trust me.”
Susanna was busy fiddling with the hem of her shirt when she looked at Ethan. “So, can I go? We’re in the middle of costuming with Heather.”
Ethan waved her away.
“Oh, and tell my wife,” Jackson added without looking up as Susanna scurried off stage, “that we’re leaving in about an hour when we wrap this up.”
Susanna flipped him a thumbs up and disappeared behind the gray curtain into the left wing.
Jackson turned back to the papers in front of him, grading, I guessed by the concentrating look on his face, while Ethan scrambled onto the stage and stood next to me.
“We have some work to do,” he whispered, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
“And where shall we do this work?” I whispered back. My flirting game was never on point, especially around this boy, but something inside me made me bat my eyes just a little at him. What the heck was I doing? Was I some little girl that would swoon over him like the other girls in school did?
No, absolutely not. No matter if he was cute and charming and articulate and smart and...
Oh, goodness. I had it bad for him, didn’t I?
“Well my parents are gone most evenings to the city, so we can study at my house. My sister will be there, but ...”
“Yes,” I interrupted a little too loudly. I stepped closer to him and could smell the hint of coffee on his breath and spicy aftershave of some kind. “After dance practice, that is. I’d love to study lines with you.”
“It’s a date,” he said with a wink.
“It’s not a date,” I countered, but I smiled anyway. “It’s work.”
We shook on it awkwardly, but in my head I was screaming, Oh God, I have a date with a boy.
I have a date!
Chapter 13
Ethan
The weeks went by with practices every day after school, and April turned to May. Senior fever erupted in school, something I didn’t have to worry about until next year, so I mostly ignored it and focused on the play. It turned out Taylor was the perfect cast; Jackson turned out to be her biggest fan. And somewhere in that time, she slipped deeper and deeper into my heart. I found myself forgetting the script and watching the way she walked, strol
led, danced, and sang. Sometimes she reminded me of Maeve; but most of the time she was just Taylor.
The best part about April though, was Taylor was at my house four days a week after practice for the first two weeks, then after that only a couple days a week. Amy loved her, but also mostly ignored her. Her iPad was the love of her seven-year-old life, after all.
It was so weird having Taylor in my bedroom and not making a move on her. Normally I would be trying to get her in my bed, but not Taylor. She was too special for that. We just rehearsed lines and made a snack for the three of us, then I drove her home and dropped her off a block away, so her Papa didn’t know it was me.
Part of me hated that we had to hide our time together, but I kept telling myself we were in this together, for the play. But sometimes, just sometimes, I’d catch her staring at me, and our eyes would lock, and I knew it was more than just the play.
Could I be falling for this girl?
Keep it professional, I tried to repeat such a mantra but failed terribly. After the soccer game, I doubted it was even possible. Taylor was quickly taking over my life, consuming me, and I had a sneaking suspicion she felt the same way.
Despite whatever was going on between us, Taylor proved to be a quick study at lines; she told me once it was all the Bible memorization she had to do as a kid. This new version of Taylor on the stage was something I never expected when I cast her. She was almost like a different person; cool, calm, collected. Confident.
It was sexy as hell.
“You’re head over heels for that girl,” Gavin, one of our actors, mentioned to me a few weeks after we formally started practice. He played Alastair, one of Lilla’s friends who was tricked into the hat that bewitched him. Gavin was a class clown, so he was perfect for jester trope. He was the one of the ones we cast first, actually. He was also mostly gay – a flamboyant professed pansexual – and loved the stage. He was quite the entertainer.
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