My heart thuds, and I shoot upright. “That is not the end of the story. If thatisthe case and my brain has short-circuited itself and crossed lines with obsession and romantic attraction, then what the heck am I supposed to do now? What if I’m wrong? What if, just like everything else, I eventually fall out of love? I can’t hurt her like that.”
“You’re crushing so hard it physically hurtsme.” Jason rolls his eyes toward the top bunk of the bed. “So don’t tell her yet. Test things for however long you want. Just don’t get upset if someone who knows what they want appears and takes everything away from you. If this girl is as exceptional as you’re saying and you’ve pushed her right out into a literal spotlight, it’s only a matter of time. You have to either decide what you want or face being too late.”
I can’t picture Calypso with anyone else. I can’t picture another guy sweeping her away from me. Whether that’s egotistical or delusional, I’m not entirely sure.
Too late.
Snatching my phone off the floor beside me, I spit a curse. “I’mlate.”
“Huh?”
“To rehearsal,” I grit out between my teeth as I launch up off the floor and grab my satchel. “I gotta get to the auditorium.”
Jason laughs and waves his sloth’s paw. “Well, good talk, man. And good luck.”
Luck. That is exactly what I need. Agatha has been almostrelentless with her slights since that whole fiasco in the bathroom, and if I’m not there for Calypso, who knows what will happen?
I can’t let her down like that. Not when I dragged her into this.
It wouldn’t be very Kenneth of me.
Screw love. Screw everything.
Calypso is my sugar glider. And it’s wrong to adopt a pet then abandon them.
Calypso
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lex didn’t come to rehearsal. My mouth goes dry when the realization hits me that in the small sea of people the one who has become my anchor isn’t here.
It doesn’t take five seconds for me to have one braid between my fingers.
“Don’t choke,” Agatha hisses as she passes me with her tiny posse of sound booth girls.
My face heats as their brief chuckles wash through me, prickling over my skin.
“You’ve got some big scenes to practice with Kenneth today, don’t you?” Rebecca’s chipper voice sets everything else aside, and I look up into her bright eyes. Her brows wiggle.
I nudge her, opting to displaynot panickingin my response. “Quit that.”
“What? I’m not doing anything.” She sighs, dramatically, which fits for a theater class girl. “A shame it’s not Act 4, Scene 2.” She holds her fingers in front of her mouth, wide spread. “Ah. Wait. I’m Jo. I’m not supposed to be rooting forthatmoment.”
Thatmoment is Harriet and Kenneth’s first kiss. It’s a brief thing. Nothing at all like the one at the very end of the play.
Picturing either of those moments between Lex and me makes my whole body vibrate, and I’ve been somewhat violently pretending they don’t exist. Why I, a girl who hasneverbeen kissed, felt the need to write romantic drivel is a true mystery.
“You’re red as a tomato,” Rebecca teases. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”
“Please. Stop it,” I murmur, covering my mouth.
She drops it, just like that. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“I know. It’s all right.”
“Ms. Kole and Mr. Reeves. If we could start, please?”
Reeves. NotHawthorn.
