Chapter 19
STEPPING OUT
The cold weather finally broke, so I got back into my jogging routine. Every morning without fail, I’d wake up about an hour earlier than necessary in order to get a good run in before heading to school.
I changed my route months ago, however, for obvious reasons that I don’t feel the need to rehash here.
I still loved the path around Lenape Lake, though. There was an eerie beauty to the gray of winter as it faded away into spring. Changing out one season for another.
Kind of a metaphor for the new life I’d made for myself.
I’d been hanging with Pickford a lot more than usual. I’d drag him out of the house every now and again just to keep him from sulking around like a hermit. The rule was we weren’t allowed to discuss the girls. Or any girls. No actresses, no models, no random women on the street. The topic of females was strictly verboten. We had enough other stuff to talk about: Sports, the play... most of the time, we didn’t talk at all. We’d go for a drive or he’d tag along on one of my runs. He’d sit in the auditorium during rehearsals or I’d join him at the Y for a pickup game of b-ball.
Even when we couldn’t get together, Penelope would fill me in on the daily goings-on in the Redy household. She and I had gotten pretty close, too, considering we spent every weekday together for the past four months. She, along with the rest of the cast and crew had been counting down the days until the debut performance of our Spring Musical.
And now, here it was, Opening Night.
The entire cast was pumped. The energy backstage was palpable. Tense. Keyed up. Crackling. Every one of us just wanted to get out there and strut our stuff. After the many, many hours of rehearsals, we knew that we were ready.
If I’m going to be honest, I’ll say that aside from being excited, I was definitely a little nervous, too. I’d never performed before a live audience before, and this particular audience happened to be comprised of people who actually knew me in real life. I hoped I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.
But once the curtains opened, I knew I was good to go. The lights went on, the actors assumed their places, and suddenly, the performance was underway.
Showtime.
From the first second I made my appearance onstage, there was an inexplicable buzz that consumed every inch of my skin. It coursed through my veins and electrified every cell in my body. The audience disappeared, and I became Sky Masterson.
Every second spent on that stage felt like home to me. I really don’t know how else to explain it. When I had to sing, I hit the proper notes. When I had to move, I hit the right marks. When I had to speak, the words just spilled out of me with all the appropriate emotions to back them up. Every moment of the experience was simply... transcendent.
I fucking loved it.
And after two entire hours of nonstop adrenaline, I was pretty sure the rest of the cast loved it, too.
After the show, everyone was rowdy, relieved, elated, you name it. We all hugged and high-fived and offered accolades to each other for pulling off a pretty damned good performance.
Soon enough, we were joined by friends and family as they poured into the backstage area, cramming into any available square inch they could find in order to offer their congratulations.
I stood on a chair to scope out my parents, spotting them as they filed through the crowd. I waved them over as Rymer yelled something obscene behind me.
I laughed as I turned toward the sound of his voice... only to see her.
My heart stopped. What the hell is she doing here?
Pride flooded through me at the thought that Layla had seen my performance. I wondered if she liked it, if she thought I was good enough.
Am I good enough for you now?
I don’t know what came over me as I nodded my head at her in silent greeting, but it was worth the smile I saw on her face as she waved back. I took that as a good sign.
God, what the fuck were we doing? The past months of our standoff seemed so stupid and pointless. She was here! That’s all that mattered.
I hopped down off the chair to hug my parents hello. After a round of hearty congratulations, Mom cut right to the chase.
“Who’s the girl?” she asked, obviously having spotted our exchange.
“Layla Warren.” I knew my mother would recognize the name. I’d only mentioned it in her presence a million times. But Jesus. For the first time after all those months, I’d barely allowed my brain to even think her name, much less say it aloud. “Want to meet her?”
“Layla Warren?” Dad asked. “She wouldn’t happen to be Kate Warren’s daughter, would she?”
“Yeah, Kate. You know her?”
“I knew her.”
That wasn’t as surprising as you might think. Layla’s parents had lived here as teenagers, too.
The three of us wove our way through the throng of chatty people until I found myself standing right behind Layla. Before I could talk myself out of it, I tapped her on the shoulder.
She turned to face me, a look of surprise on her beautiful face. Those relentless brown eyes met mine in pure warmth, and it was enough to force me to catch my breath.
“Mom, Dad,” I said casually, even while feeling anything but. “I want you to meet Layla. Layla, these are my parents.”
She smiled and shook their hands, and I noticed my father was wearing a shit-eating grin as he greeted her hello. I pursed my lips and chuckled, shaking my head in mock irritation. It wasn’t the first time he’d flirted with one of my girlfriends.
Wait. Girl friends.
Mom immediately launched into a string of gushing accolades, teary-eyed and beaming at her “talented boy!” as she ran a hand over my hair.
“Ma!” I laughed out uncomfortably, flinching my head out of her reach.
Dad stepped in to save me. “Okay, Maddie. Don’t embarrass the boy in front of his friend.”
He started to usher her out of the room when she turned to give me one last hug. “I’m just so proud of you!”
Layla and I shared a chuckle as they made their way out... leaving the two of us alone, save for an entire roomful of people.
A knowing silence passed between us as we acknowledged the awkwardness of coming face to face after so much time apart. I couldn’t quite believe we hadn’t spoken for five entire months.
Layla broke the silence when she gushed, “Trip, my God... You were so good!”
I grinned like a madman even though I wanted to appear humble. “Thanks. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I did okay, I guess.”
She reached her hand toward me and knotted her fingers around mine. An unconscious gesture if ever there was one. I was pretty sure she hadn’t even realized she’d done it.
I was very aware, however.
“Trip, stop. You were amazing. Everyone loved you.”
“Everyone?” I asked before my brain could stop my mouth from speaking.
She knew damn well what I was asking. But she wasn’t going to give me an inch.
“Truly, Trip. You could just feel how much the audience enjoyed themselves whenever you were on stage. I swear.”
It was enough. I couldn’t contain my grin as I wrapped my arms around her. I didn’t even think about it. I just did it.
And the second I did, I knew that I was fucked.
I could feel her heart slamming against mine as I buried my face against her neck and breathed in, smelling her summery hair, sliding my palms against her spine. I pulled back slowly, afraid to see what I’d find in her eyes, but she met my stare willingly, if a bit terrified.
My gaze dropped to her lips—those luscious, full lips—and I knew I had to get my mouth on her.
Now.
I became aware of that same buzzing feeling, the same electricity I’d had on stage only moments earlier. The world disappeared around us, and suddenly it was just she and I and the feel of her hands resting on my shoulders, that expectant look in her eyes. Her trembling bottom lip. The smell of her hair.
And I leaned in to kiss her, world be damned.
But before I could go through with it, a body slammed against my back, knocking my head into Layla’s face.
“Heeey, Brando!”
Fucking Rymer.
“Warren, can you get a load of this guy? Our little man thinks he’s Brando over here!”
Layla had a hand over her mouth, probably trying to hold her teeth in.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded her head in answer as Rymer threw an arm around my neck and gave me a noogie against the back of my hair.
I shook him off and finally turned around to see Sarge and Benedict standing with him. They, at least, opted for a simple handshake.
Cooper crammed his hands into his pockets and nodded his head toward me. “We were thinking of heading out to The Barrens. You two want to come?”
It was weird to see Coop as just himself and not my competition. We hadn’t spent a whole helluva lot of time together over the past months, but the invitation was clearly offered in an attempt to change that. It kind of sucked that I had to decline.
“Nah,” I answered. “Thanks, but I’ve got to hit the wrap party. You assholes are invited, too.”
“Well, with an invitation like that...” Sarge busted.
“Fuck that,” Rymer scathed. “Party with the theater fags? Yeah, thanks, but I think we’ll take a pass, dude.”
Lay and I shared an eyeroll at that before they said their goodbyes and roughed their way out the door.
Lisa and Pickford popped over just then—together—and I couldn’t help but notice the elated grin that was stretched across his proud face. It would seem tonight was full of reunions.
Lisa tried to claim my girl to leave, but I stopped her with, “Hey Lis? Why don’t you let me drive Layla home.” I turned to Lay and asked, “If that’s alright with you, obviously.”
Her bottom lip dropped just a fraction of an inch in surprise. Before she could respond, Lisa grabbed Pick’s hand and pulled him out the door, yelling, “Fine by me! Great job tonight, Trip! See you later!”
The crowd had died down considerably, leaving only a handful of us still lingering backstage. But I still didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation.
I grabbed her hand again and offered a barely-audible invitation. “Hey. Come to the party with me tonight, Lay.”
She looked down at our intertwined hands before answering. “Isn’t the wrap party just for the cast and crew? I’d feel like I was crashing...”
“You’re not crashing. I’m inviting you. C’mon. It’ll be fun.”
She took an awfully long time to respond. A million thoughts raced through my brain in those seconds. Was she just being polite? Did she still hate me? Why the hell would I think I stood a chance?
But then she raised her head, and I had my answer. She didn’t even attempt to hide her smile as her sparkling brown eyes met mine.
“Okay.”