“I was, but...”
“No buts!” Mr. Hersbill interrupted fiercely. “Leave them alone. Let them have what little time they do have left. Who are we to play cupid for these two? And your religion be damned, by the way. God never condemned love.”
I wanted to cheer for Ethan’s dad. What an awesome man. Why did Ethan seem to hate him so much? He was amazing. He said everything that we could never say. In that moment, Ethan’s dad was my hero as much as Ethan was. Now I saw where Ethan got his fierceness from.
“Well, I—” Papa stuttered.
“Um, hello? I’m sorry to interrupt...” It was the nurse from before who surfaced from behind the curtain. “I need to take Taylor down to x-ray if you don’t mind.” She looked around the room and frowned – I didn’t blame her. The tension was thick in the room. “Do you think you can walk?” she asked me.
“I’m a little dizzy still,” I told her.
“No problem,” she smiled brightly. “We’ll just wheel you down to the lab.”
“This conversation isn’t over,” Papa snapped as the nurse went about unlocking the wheels on my bed, completely and totally ignoring his protests.
“It is, though,” I told him. I looked at Ethan. “I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow for dress rehearsal, all right?”
“I love you, too,” Ethan said, though it wasn’t as loud as before. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Chapter 21
Ethan
Not only did Taylor not have a concussion, but the doctor released her a few hours later. She finally texted me she was home and ready for bed, which was great, because I worried for her the entire time. Amy worried, too, but I assured her it was just a little bump and Taylor would be fine. She eyed me like I was lying, then shrugged and skipped off like she always did. Unfortunately, Taylor’s grandfather kept her home the next couple of days, just in case, so I didn’t see her until opening night.
It was absolute torture being apart, with only a few texts throughout the day while I focused on finals and the last two days of reversal without my leading star.
But, everything was going to change tonight.
It was opening night. The first night of my play.
Mine.
My play!
I wrote it, I directed it.
All my hard work, all the emotions and late nights and steaming cups of coffee at two in the morning over the last year had finally been worth it.
Despite being lovesick and missing Taylor, I was a bundle of hyper energy, and drinking two energy drinks and a latte hadn’t helped, nor had it been intelligent, but here I was anyway, standing backstage and consuming the energy of the actors as they rushed around.
“Thirty minutes, people!” Jackson called.
I busied myself by assisting Susanna in making sure everyone’s costumes were in order and went over any last-minute nerve-reduction activities with a few actors. The only one who wasn’t freaking out about now was Gavin, who seemed as excited as I was.
There was a kind of calm before the storm, I realized...
“Ethan? Do you mind if I have a minute, boy?”
Mr. Berm’s voice was actually a cause for concern; it was soft and pleading when I turned to face Taylor’s grandfather. He had one hand tucked in the pocket of his slacks and ran his other hand over his sparse, gray hair.
Alarm bells shot off in my head at how cool, calm, and collected he was. I’d only ever seen this man angry at me, in my face, and screaming to leave his granddaughter alone, a request I clearly violated. The calmness made me feel like I was in the eye of the hurricane, like any minute he was going to destroy everything I had worked to build this school year.
Still fresh in my mind was me, running from the hospital three days ago, and how I had barely texted Taylor in the meantime, except to make sure she was okay. She had a mild concussion and was excused from school for the rest of the week but promised me she’d be okay for opening night on Thursday.
I’d been so eager to escape the altercation between my father and Taylor’s grandfather that I had thrown myself into homework, tech week rehearsals, and even helping my mother begin packing for our move in a few weeks. I purposefully tried not to think about Taylor leaving in three days, but I had something special planned for her departure day. We had briefly talked about being able to talk while she was in Germany, and about her coming back in the fall. We’d be okay.
God, I loved that girl.
I was trapped inside my head while Mr. Berm looked expectantly at me, so I finally snapped back to the present and nodded, then motioned him into the back hallway, away from where the auditorium was very quickly filling up.
Even that sent a thrill for me, to know there were people out there paying to see my play.
I was giddy with delight, which was a feeling I don’t think I’d ever experienced.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last long.
“I’ll get right to the point, because I know this is a big night for you, son,” Mr. Berm started with a hearty throat clear. I waited, feeling the anxiety creep into my stomach, knowing this wasn’t going to be a good conversation. “I hope this time you’ll do what I’ve asked all along and not contact my granddaughter once she leaves on Sunday. Your father told me that you are moving away from this town anyway.” He swallowed and rubbed his temple absently. “I hope you know what needs to be done.”
I blinked at him, glancing back to the noise behind me as more people came in to take their seats. “Excuse me?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Perhaps I should be clearer. You need to break her heart.”
“I’m sorry, sir, I’m a little confused. Perhaps you should talk to Taylor about this, because we decided...”
“There is no more ‘we’,” he snapped, “and there never was. You are both little more than children and have no idea how to make adult decisions. Clearly.”
He glared at me, and I could guess what he was talking about.
My mother raised me to be polite and respectful, but this man had done nothing to earn respect from me, so I wasn’t going to give it.
I balled my fists at my side and stepped closer to him. We were the same height, about the same weight, but I felt my chest puff out anyway. “I think Taylor can make her own decisions who she gets to talk to.”
“Son,” Mr. Berm stepped so close to me I almost flinched. Our noses almost touched. “I do not appreciate that you have taken my granddaughter’s innocence, without consulting her parents or myself first, and this so-called ‘relationship’ has gone on too long. She is going back to Germany, to her parents, and hopefully, to her God. She doesn’t have any need for boys like you.”
“Boys like me?” I challenged. I stepped forward again and forced him back a step. I wanted to believe he was a harmless old man, a washed-up veteran with health problems, but the fire blazing in his eyes told me he’d kicked my ass in less than a minute.
“Boys who want nothing more than carnal pleasures of the flesh, of course.”
“Get over yourself, man,” I snapped, “it’s the 21st century and teenagers are having sex. Whether your god likes it or not.” I shrugged and backed up then, because I knew if I kept the aggressive stance, I’d have more trouble on my hands. Plus, the play opened in fifteen minutes, or so my smart watch told me as I briefly glanced at it. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a play to direct.”
I spun on my heel, but he stopped me with a carefully planned sentence that froze me in my tracks.
“Then shall I tell Taylor about the night you murdered that poor girl?”
My breath hitched in my chest and my jaw flexed painfully. I turned around slowly. “Excuse me?”
“I talked to Taylor – she knows about the car accident, but you never told her you were the one driving. You think you can lie to her, boy?”
“I swear to God, if you call me boy one more time...”
He chuckled and waved me away like I was nothing more than an insignificant fly. “You are a boy
; you have proven you are not a man, the day you left Taylor in the hospital with a head injury.”
“A concussion,” I corrected him, seething. “And back to the matter at hand, why does Taylor need to know I was driving—”
“Because her real mother, my daughter, died in a car accident when Taylor was a baby.”
“What?” My shoulders slumped and I leaned against the wall behind me, tugging at my hair with both hands. “Does... does she know?”
“Yes. And her stepmother, the woman she calls mother now, they haven’t got along very well. After her sister passed last year, their relationship went downhill. Hence why Taylor has been living with me.” He chuckled softly. “I’m surprised she never told you this, if your relationship was as good as you say it was...”
“Oh God,” I breathed, because nothing else would come out of my mouth.
“Why do you think she insists on walking everywhere normally? I’m surprised she even got in a car with you in the first place. Especially considering your...record.”
I sucked in air through my teeth and couldn’t make my voice work. I remembered back to a few months ago when I tried to convince Taylor I’d give her a ride, and the dozen times she’d turned me down in the beginning. Then, the memory of her sitting stiff and frozen in my front seat flashed through my head, but at the time I hadn’t thought anything of it. I just assumed she’d been a little nervous around me, since we’d just met.
Oh, God. I’d been so blind.
“Taylor has a fear of cars. Doesn’t she?” I muttered.
“She does.”
“And if you told her about Maeve she’d never want to speak to me again,” fell out of my mouth.
Mr. Berm just nodded slowly, his blue eyes as ice cold as ever. He stepped close to me and put his hand on my shoulder, which I shrugged off. “If you truly do care about her, then you’ll let her go back to Germany with her family and learn to be happy. It’s what God would want.”
I worked my jaw, unable to come up with anything to say. Me, the master of words. I was speechless. He stared me down, and all I could finally say was, “I’ll take care of it.”
What was I even thinking?
Ten minutes.
I had ten minutes to break her heart.
As if the jittery anxiety of the coffee suddenly hit my veins, I ripped the door open behind me and flew into the backstage area. I stopped Susanna, grabbing her by the shoulder, nearly ripping her costume as I begged her to tell me where Taylor was.
“She’s in the dressing room,” Susanna said, frowning. “What’s gotten into you, Ethan? You look like you saw a spider or something.”
“I’m fine,” I barked at her, let her go, and rounded the back of the stage to the janitor’s closet that had transformed into the changing room for the girls.
“Taylor?”
Her name escaped my lips like a painful scrape. I could barely handle it.
She spun toward me and I felt my breath hitch again at how gorgeous she was. Her costume looked great; Heather, Jackson’s wife and practically our only stagehand, had really outdone herself with hair, makeup, and costume. Taylor was the sexiest dancer I had ever seen. As Lilla, she was dressed in black jeans with an oversized white button-down shirt – it was the second time I’d ever seen her in pants – but her eyes sparkled with glittery purple eyeshadow and midnight eyeliner that even Maeve would ahhed over.
Maeve. Her name entered my head unbidden. I wished it hadn’t.
Taylor stood with her legs pointed opposite, in that strange way that ballerinas did, even though she was wearing black jazz shoes. Her hair was pinned behind her head with some blond curls framing her face. Even though she didn’t resemble what I envisioned Lilla would look like, Taylor was absolutely perfect.
And her voice. I couldn’t wait to hear her voice.
It was too bad I had to break her heart.
I gulped, trying to be brave even though I felt like a monster inside. “I need to talk to you. Mind if we go and sit on the couch backstage for a minute?”
She glanced down at her shoes and then shrugged. “I suppose, but aren’t we a few minutes from curtain?”
I glanced at my smartwatch. “Yeah, six to be exact.”
She eyed me. “Are you okay, Ethan?”
I wiped a hand across my forehead. No. I’m not okay. You’re going to hate me forever the next time I open my mouth. Like a coward, I said, “Yeah, why?”
She turned and put her hands on her hips. “Liar.”
She always sees right through me, just like Maeve did.
“Taylor...” I cleared my throat. I couldn’t get the words out I knew she needed to hear. I had to destroy her before our last performance, and god, what an evil little toad I was. I tugged at my collar, then flipped a button open. “My parents are getting a divorce,” I blurted.
“Oh!” She put a hand to her mouth briefly and bit her knuckle. “Oh, god, Ethan. I’m so sorry. That’s what your dad meant in the hospital by packing, huh? I wondered.” Before I could answer her, she pranced forward and flung her arms around me.
I stiffened, gripping my clipboard even tighter in my right hand. She let go of me immediately and stepped back. “Ethan?” She peered at me. “What ... are you okay?”
“You were right, Taylor, about me wanting to dress you up like Maeve. I miss her so much, I...” I licked my lips. I was going to chicken out, I knew it. I couldn’t do this to Taylor.
To the girl I loved.
But I had to.
If I didn’t, my world was going to change for the worse, and I couldn’t let that happen. Not to me, and especially not to Amy. How could I drag Taylor into what was going to become a living hell of uncertainty – not to mention the threat her grandfather had over me? I couldn’t let Taylor know I was ... a murderer. She’d never forgive me. She’d stop loving me. I couldn’t handle that.
Taylor frowned. “What are you saying?”
I shook my head. “I’m afraid that I’ve decided to see other people.”
“You ...” she blinked rapidly. “You what?”
“It’s over, Taylor.”
She cocked her head and examined me. “I... I don’t understand, but if you need time, I can just...” she floundered for a minute. “We can make this work.”
“No.” I tucked my clipboard to my chest as my watch buzzed. Three minutes till show time. “I mean, I love you, I love hanging out with you, and I especially enjoy when we are on stage together. Jesus, making out in my car was just ... whew. But I’ve just got a lot of stuff going on, and I just don’t have time for a girlfriend.” I sucked in a trembled breath, praying she couldn’t see how much I was dying inside. “You get it, right?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I ... suppose so.”
I turned to go. “I’m sorry.” I could bear to look at her. “We’re on in two minutes.”
If it had been anyone else – Maeve, Angelica, Susanna – they might have called me a plethora of obscenities, or even slapped me, or cold cocked me for being a loathsome, pretentious dick. God knows I certainly deserved it, especially to such a sweet girl like Taylor.
But her next words killed me, like a knife to my heart.
“I guess, in the end, you really were just a wonderful actor then.”
I froze, but without looking back, my shoulders slumped, and stepped off the stage to take a seat in my director’s chair. What had I done? And why did I have to do it opening night?
I just couldn’t spare her feelings anymore, knowing that this wasn’t going to work out. Knowing we’d be on other sides of the planet soon and were both teenagers. Even with social media and e-mail and all the benefits of technology, they couldn’t replace how it felt to have Taylor in my arms. The bottom line was, I couldn’t live without her, but I couldn’t stand to drag this on, making it more painful for us both.
So I ended it.
It was over.
The lights dimmed and Jackson took the stage to introduce the play, then beck
oned me to join him so he could introduce me. I barely registered the excited words of praise tumbling out of his mouth; I just stood there, hands in my pockets, a smile plastered on my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Taylor standing in the left wing, waiting for the curtains to open.
My Lilla.
My star, the love of my life.
What had I done?
Chapter 22
Taylor
I somehow made it through the next three days of the play. I guess I was stronger than I gave myself credit for.
Because inside I was absolutely broken.
I threw myself into the part; not just because I took it seriously, but also because I hoped it made Ethan regret what he said. That didn’t mean it wasn’t torture. By Saturday night, I was able to look him in the eye off stage and sing, and even paint a fake smile on my face as I danced.
He wanted me to do this, sheesh, I wanted to do this, and yet I couldn’t help but think how long had he planned to end this?
How long had he planned to prove to me that Papa was right? That men only wanted one thing – and once they got it, they would leave you high and dry.
Ethan was just like the rest, and I began to hate him for it.
Having to see him in the crowd, that little smug smile on his face as he lounged in his director’s chair, made my stomach flip. Part anger, part annoyance, and still part of the strong feelings I had for him. It was completely stupid he had to break up with me now, when I was about to leave. After we’d talked about making this work over the summer. It would be hard, the long distance, but I thought we really cared about each other. I guess I was wrong.
So wrong.
Every night we were greeted with a standing ovation and a packed house. Then I went home with Papa, went straight to my room, flung myself on my bed and cried myself to sleep.
I know Papa knew, somehow. He would knock on my door and ask if I needed anything. I would always tell him no.
On Saturday, however, my bags packed and ready to go to the airport at eight a.m. sharp the next morning, the incessant ringing of the front doorbell ripped me out of my mostly sleepless, sad, stupor. It was close to midnight when I tiptoed to the front door and peeked through the hole to see who it was, though part of me knew it was him, anyway.
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