Joie

 

That night began a new pattern as well. Cole came into my room and I never failed to wake up at the soft sound of his blankets and pillows hitting the floor beside my bed. Some nights we talked. Some nights I reached over the edge of my bed and held his hand until we both fell asleep. Some nights I woke breathing hard, in the grip of my memories and nightmares. When that happened, Cole was there. His arms held me close as he whispered sweet reassurances that he would never let anyone hurt me again.

It was a week before the play and two weeks until graduation. Dress rehearsals would start the next day. Cole was on the floor in my room at his house, playing with the ends of my hair that had spilled over the edge of the bed. It was two o’clock in the morning and I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

Just as they were about to drift shut for good that night, I heard him ask.

“Are you ever gonna tell me everything, Jo?”

My eye popped open, all thoughts of sleep disappearing just like that. Rolling to my side, I peered down. Cole laid with one hand behind his head, the other still tangled in the strands of my hair. His blanket had drifted low over his abdomen and since the weather was warming up, he’d been sleeping shirtless. Without really thinking about what I was doing, I reached out and laid my hand on his chest. He shuddered at my touch. Cole had been sleeping on my floor for a few weeks now. Never once, even when he crawled in bed with me, had he even tried to kiss me. But I knew if I would but say the word our relationship would become more. I also knew I wasn’t going to let that happen, even as I selfishly basked in the comfort and safety he offered.

“Are you?” The hand behind his head came down to cover mine on his chest.

“No.” I didn’t want to hurt him. But I also didn’t want to tell him. Rolling again, I faced away from where he laid on the floor, tucking my hair and my hands under my chin.

Cole sighed, but didn’t say anything else and I wondered when he would begin to hate me as much as I hated myself.

 

Cole

 

I was nervous. Not the way I was right before a game, but worse. I’d played in a hundred games, more even, but this would be my first performance on stage. I really hoped I wasn’t going to be sick.

“You okay, you look a little green,” Joie asked. We both stood off stage, the play had begun but my part hadn’t come yet. Trina was killing it for her initial scene and I would go on next with my, Calvin’s, step-brothers and step-mother.

“I feel a little green,” I admitted. Joie glanced at me again, looking alarmed.

“Cole, you can do this.” She gripped my shoulders and stood in front of me, her eyes intent. “You are brilliant on that stage and you are going to blow everyone away.”

I wanted to believe her and honestly, on some level I did. I knew once I got out there everything would settle, and I would slip into the Calvin persona I’d created over the last few months. Shaking out my limbs, I commanded myself to get a grip. Tonight wasn’t about me anyway. It was about Joie. Her audition for USC. It was about her script, her direction, her vision. And I didn’t want to ruin her chances.

“How are you holding up,” I asked, focusing only on her. She looked beautiful. She’d worn a tasteful black gown that reached her just below her knees. My mom had loaned her a single string of pearls and her hair was swept back in a complicated twist. She looked very Audrey. At least, that’s what my mom had said. All I knew, she was the most beautiful I had ever seen her. She was confident and poised and I knew all our hard work, all her hard work, was going to pay off.

“I’m fine. I’ve done all that I can. Now it’s up to them to decide if it was enough.” She shrugged, but I could see she was more nervous than she let on.

“I think you’re amazing. You know that, right?” I lifted her chin, so I could see into her eyes, beautiful eyes she’d stopped hiding behind her glasses. She shook her head and tried to brush me away. Placing both hands on her cheeks, I pulled her gaze back to me. “I mean it, Jo. You are beautiful and what you’ve done with this play-” I shook my head, searching for the right words. “I mean it, you are freaking amazing.”

Her eyes misted, and her lips curled with a small smile. “Thank you, Cole. None of this would be happening if it wasn’t for you. You are the star.”

Things were getting a little intense, so I pulled out my inner Cole and smirked. “That’s right, I am.”

Joie laughed, just like I wanted her to.

“Break a leg out there, Cole,” she said and leaned up on her toes to kiss my cheek.

“I plan on it.”

 

Joie

 

The curtain closed on the final bow to uproarious applause from a packed house. He’d done it. Cole had pulled it off. He was charming, hilarious, and just the right amount of serious when the situation called for it. I’d written the role for him, after all, and he’d performed it beautifully. Everyone else followed his lead and there had only been minor errors that anyone who hadn’t read the script wouldn’t notice.

Everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief once they were separated from the audience and then the hugging and congratulating began.

Soon, I was swarmed by sweaty actors.

“You guys were amazing!” And they had been.

“Joie!” Ms. Lewis, a huge smile on her face as she led several grinning college representatives backstage, pulled me into an exuberant hug and whispered in my ear. “You nailed it.”

“Thank you so much for taking a chance on me,” I told her through the tears clogging my throat.

She patted my back for good measure. “You bet.” She stood up straight and presented me to the college people. I shook hands with each of them, accepting their congratulations and cursory reviews of the play and the performance.

“Joie, I don’t think you need me to tell you tonight was an enormous success.” It was the recruiter from USC, Mr. Donovan. I fought down the butterflies in my stomach.

“Thank you.” But do you want me? I wanted to ask so badly.

“I talked to Ms. Lewis about how you pulled all of this together without an existing drama department or acting classes to draw talent from. I think that says a lot about your ability to direct.” He studied me for a moment. “Your writing was fresh and creative. Do you have more ideas?”

“Oh, yes. A million. I have a hundred notebooks at home.” I forced myself to stop. I could really get carried away with my story ideas.

Mr. Donovan nodded. “I’ll be in touch, Miss Warner. Congratulations. Enjoy this.” He gestured to all the giddiness going on around us.

“Thank you, sir.” I stuck out my hand to shake his.

Grinning, he accepted it. “I expect I’ll be seeing you soon.” And with a wink, he was gone, sucked into the crowd, while I stood rooted to my spot on the stage floor.

“Woo-ee, Jo,” Cole crowed in my ear as he picked me up off the ground and spun me in a circle. “We did it!”

Throwing my arms around his neck, I couldn’t help but laugh. A huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The recruiter liked my play. Gratitude for Cole warmed me, and I hugged him for real.

“Because of you. You were amazing, Cole. Thank you.”

Cole hugged me, too, before pulling back. “I’d do anything for you, you know that.” His tone was playful, and his eyes sparkled with happiness, but his words echoed with a sincerity that made my throat clog. Before I could talk myself out of it, I kissed his cheek again and pulled away from him to congratulate the other actors and to talk to members of the audience.  

The rest of the night was a blur! It was more than an hour after the performance ended before the auditorium finally emptied. I couldn’t stop smiling and figured my cheeks would be aching for the next week. I was congratulated, shook hands until I thought my arm would fall off, hugged, air-kissed on both cheeks, and all around praised for my writing and direction of the play. Mr. and Mrs. Parker beamed with so much pride you would never know they weren’t really my parents. They spent a good portion of the time snapping pictures of Cole and I and other members of the cast as well. It gave me the idea to create a photo video to present to the cast at the after party to be held on Saturday after the last performance.

The representatives from USC and the other two schools I applied to have all pulled Cole aside to talk to him, I assumed to congratulate him on his performance, but the man from USC looked intent and after he shook Cole’s hand, he handed him a business card.

Finally, it was time to leave. Cole’s parents and sister piled into the family SUV, while Cole and I rode alone in his car. We talked about the play and I told him what the recruiter from USC had said. He congratulated me but didn’t share what he’d discussed with the man.

Later that night, Cole crept into my room. I was exhausted and barely registered his appearance but welcomed the warmth of his hand around mine as I drifted back to sleep.