by S. J. Bishop
"That's exactly what I plan to do."
9
Clarissa
"I'm sorry, can you say that again?"
"The part is yours, if you want it."
"Of course I want it! Thank you. Thank you so much."
"I'm happy to hear it. I'll email you the rehearsal details now." He paused. "Clarissa, there's something you should know. The other director, Robert... well, you weren't his first choice. I really had to go to bat for you, but you have the strongest voice I've ever heard. So please, don't let me down."
"I promise you, Mr. White, I won't."
"Good, and it's David."
"David," I repeated.
The second we'd hung up, I called Madeline. "I got the part!" I screamed. "In the new production of A Bride for My Father! I got the lead!"
It took me a second to realize why Madeline wasn't jumping up and down for joy.
"Oh shit," I said. "Maddie, I'm sorry. I didn't stop to think."
"That's okay," she said, but I could hear the hurt in her voice. "Really, it's fine. I'm happy for you."
"Um, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go celebrate with me, but I totally get it if you don't."
"Of course I do," she replied, a little too cheerily.
We met at Lola's an hour later, and Madeline was pounding back the shots like I'd never seen her do.
"Congratulations," she said, lifting her glass to mine. They clinked together, and I poured the vodka down my throat. It burned and kept burning. Suddenly, I realized it was about to come right back up again. I flung my purse into Madeline's arms and ran to the bathroom. I made it just in time before spewing my dinner into the toilet bowl. I sat on the floor a minute, wondering what sort of gunk and germs I was getting on me, then slowly stood up and made my way back to Madeline. She handed me my purse. The latch was open, and a tissue tried to fall out. I snapped it shut and looked at her.
"You don't look so good," she said.
"I don't feel so good. You mind if I take off?"
"Sure." It hurt that her spirits seemed to lighten when I announced I was leaving. "I'll call you tomorrow."
I walked outside and breathed in the cool night air. For a moment, I felt much better. Then I bent over and hurled into the trashcan.
The next morning was only slightly better. I threw up once and sat on the floor leaning against the toilet. I looked under the sink for a box of tissue and saw a different box sitting there. A box, I just realized, that I should have already been halfway through this month.
"Oh my God. It can't be." I grabbed my phone and looked at the calendar. I was over a week late. "No fucking way."
The store offered endless boxes of pregnancy tests. I had no idea which was the best, so I bought them all. Images of my large, pregnant belly walking across the Broadway stage made me want to cry. This was so not the right time.
Two hours and a gallon of water later, I had gone through ten different pregnancy tests. They had all come up with the same conclusion. Pregnant. Positive. The pink plus sign.
"Fuck," I said, slamming my fists onto the floor of the bathroom where I sat.
My head suddenly shot up. I was supposed to see Lars tomorrow. We had a date. There was no way I could wait that long to tell him. I knew myself too well. If I didn't tell him today, this second, I would chicken out.
I grabbed my keys and got in my car, heading for Bobcats Stadium as fast as I could without getting a ticket. Then again, fuck the ticket, I thought, and slammed down hard on the accelerator.
10
Lars
"Are you coming, man? We're all heading down to Toad's Tavern." Phil was waiting by the locker room exit.
"No, man. You go ahead. I'm meeting someone here."
Phil grinned at me. "A girl?"
I grinned back. "As far as I know."
"Well, make sure you give it to her real good, for me. It's been too long since I got laid. Almost a full forty-eight hours."
I threw a towel at him, and he walked off, laughing.
Clarissa had texted me during break and asked if she could see me tonight instead of tomorrow. Of course, I'd said yes. I figured that the sooner I fucked her again, the sooner I could get her out of my system. Then it would be easier for me to concentrate.
"Hi, Lars," a woman's voice said. I sat up on the bench and saw Clarissa's friend from dinner standing there.
"Madeline?" I asked. I looked around the locker room. We were alone. "What are you doing here? How did you get in?"
"I wanted to see you," she said, walking toward me. She was wearing a mini dress with hooker heels that made her almost as tall as me. There was little doubt as to how she had gotten in. The security guards would have taken one look at her and assumed one of us had bought and paid for her company. I had no idea how she could walk in those heels as they clacked across the floor. Her legs were as smooth as satin. My heart started to pound.
"Madeline," I said. She wouldn't take her eyes off me. "I'm expecting someone."
"I know. Me."
I stared blankly at her. "You?"
"I got your number from Madeline's phone. I hope you don't mind my little deception."
I looked at the text I'd received from Clarissa and suddenly realized that it wasn't Clarissa's number. It had simply said, This is Clarissa. I want to see you. Where are you?
"I'm not interested," I told her. She paused, and I saw a shadow of doubt flash across her face.
"Is it Clarissa?" she asked. "Is she your girlfriend?"
"What? No! I don't do girlfriends."
"Good," she said, resuming her walk. Her porcelain skin stretched toward me, luring me in like a siren's call. "Then you should have no problem doing me."
"I just...I can't."
"Why can't you?" she whispered. She reached out with fingers as light as cotton and touched the mass between my legs. I couldn't stop the blood from surging forward down there.
"You don't waste time, do you?" I asked her, fighting my desire. Suddenly, I wondered what I was fighting it for. She wasn't as hot as Clarissa, but she was still hot. Besides, maybe if I fucked her, I could get Clarissa out of my system for good. Thinking about her all the time was only dragging down my playing.
I pulled Madeline to me and wrapped my arms around her bare back. She was wearing one of those dresses with a completely open back, showing off her skin, which was milky white and smooth as satin.
When she pressed her lips to mine, I tasted grapefruit and rose-scented candles. Her lips were soft, and I focused on them rather than Clarissa's face. I brushed my tongue along them, tasting her, before grabbing her ass and running my hands up her thighs.
"What the fuck!" Clarissa's voice rang loudly across the locker room. I felt Madeline tense in my arms, and we both turned at the same time to see Clarissa standing there, her jaw open. Her eyes blazed with anger.
"Clarissa," I said, forgetting Madeline completely.
"Fuck you, Lars. Don't ever speak to me again. Either of you." Then she turned and ran from the locker room.
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Copyright © 2016 S.J. Bishop, All rights reserved.