Joie

 

Rehearsals were going better than expected. Especially considering Cole had walked in with a raging bad attitude. I’m not sure what calmed him down, but he’d been nothing but professional for the last two hours. Everyone had been given the script and instructions to read through the whole thing and try to memorize the first scene. Surprisingly, everyone had seemed to at least have made some attempt at it. By the end, I was giddy with excitement. Maybe we really were going to pull this off.

“It’s really good, Joie. You have a gift for writing,” Ms. Lewis said from her spot beside me. We were wrapping up, most of the actors had begun exiting the stage, looking to collect their belongings to head home.

The praise warmed my heart. “Thank you. And thank you again for taking a chance on me. I know this is a big sacrifice for you.”

Ms. Lewis waved my thanks aside with a smile. “It’s fun. I’ve always loved the theater.”

“Let’s hope you still feel that way in a month,” I laughed.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” she teased with a wink, easing her arms into her coat. “Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Ms. Lewis,” I called as she made her way out of the auditorium. After packing up my backpack, I put on my own coat and started for the doors at the back of the room. Mostly everyone had already left, but there were a few stragglers chatting just outside. Not wanting to get caught in conversation, I plastered a fake smile on my face and hurried over to where my bike was locked up. It wasn’t as cold as it had been last week, but the wind still bit through the layers of my coat and the sweatshirt underneath. I was thankful to have remembered to put on a pair of leggings under my jeans. It made an enormous difference on the bike ride home.

Glancing up, I noticed Cole pulling away from the curb, a scowl on his face as he watched me pedal on the sidewalk. Whatever. He’d been trying to talk me into letting him give me a ride, but I’ve been ignoring him. Freezing to death probably hurt less than being around Cole right now. I was resolved to not allow a repeat of the other night. Cole had a girlfriend and I didn’t want any romantic entanglements. I was heading out of state in a few short months, for heaven’s sake!

Things at home seemed to be calming down. I still didn’t see much of my mom, but there was evidence that she’d spent some time on her computer recently. Maybe she had a new idea for a book. She hadn’t written anything that I knew of since my dad died. I wished she would stop being so dumb and needy and start writing again. She was a talented author and I knew her fan base would be excited about something new. Plus, it would give her something else to focus on rather than her next fix.

I hadn’t run into any guys in the kitchen, either, and was especially glad to not have seen Tattoo Man again. My hopes weren’t too high, though. She went through phases with the men and the drinking. I fully expected things to be back to normal soon enough. Until then, I would enjoy the reprieve.

 

Rehearsals were held every Tuesday and Thursday from six until eight. That way even people who played a sport could still go to practice as well as participate in the play. In addition, we scheduled to meet every other Saturday from ten until noon. Next month, we would begin looking for parent and teacher volunteers to work behind the scenes helping with costumes and sets. For now, it was enough to get everyone to show up to learn lines and preliminary blocking.

On nights we didn’t rehearse, I worked at the realty office right after school and then made my way home around dinner time. I’ve been ignoring Cole at school and the few times I’ve run into him near home, but he has really thrown himself into this production. If football didn’t work out for him, I had every confidence he could be the next somebody actor. He had the looks, the charisma, and the talent. Cole was the whole package.

After parking my bike along the side of the house, I looked around for signs of anyone in the house. Breathing a sigh of relief, I made my way into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of my mom sitting at the kitchen table, a microwave dinner in front of her.

“Hey,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

She looked up, her eyes sad. “Hey, sweetheart.” She glanced down at her dinner and back at me. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure when you’d be home. There’s another one in the freezer.”

“Thanks.” I reached into the freezer and removed a dinner. “Where’s your car?” I hadn’t seen it in the drive or in the garage.

“I let Davis borrow it for a few hours to get to work,” she answered between bites.

“Who’s Davis?” I don’t know why I cared. It wasn’t like he was going to last. After pushing the buttons on the microwave to start warming up my dinner, I leaned against the counter and took a good look at my mom.

I always thought she was beautiful. With her platinum blonde hair and blue eyes, she was enchanting. I remembered seeing some of her books on a shelf in her office. On the back cover was a full-page glamour shot. She wore sequins and her hair was done in an elegant up-do. She had on a ton of makeup and jewelry and I thought she looked like she belonged in a palace. Today, though, she looked- old. Her hair was wet from an apparent shower and hung loose around her shoulders. Her skin looked gray from too much smoking and she had dark circles around her eyes. She’d tossed aside sequins for a terry bathrobe.

“Hmm? Oh, Davis.” She waved her hand in the air. “I met him a while ago.”

“And he’s using your car?” That seemed kind of strange. Mom was perfectly willing to share her bed and her alcohol, but usually her stuff was off limits.

“Just for tonight. His is in the shop and he had to work.” She pushed her food around on the plastic dish it was packaged in.

The microwave dinged, and I removed my own dinner. It didn’t look too bad.  Some kind of sweet teriyaki or something like that with rice. It wasn’t Mrs. Parker’s spaghetti, but it was better than a sleeve of saltines. I set the dish on the table across from my mom and poured myself a glass of ice water. I wanted to drink milk, but I figured I better save it for my cereal in the morning.

“How is school,” she asked.

Immediately my hackles rose. “Fine.” Really, who was she kidding? I could count on one hand the number of times she’s shown interest in my academics in the last five years.

“Your grades are okay?” She fiddled with her fork with one hand while the other fingered her wine glass.

“Sure.” They were. I had to work at it, but I would graduate with a 3.9 GPA. I was no Eric, but I wasn’t a slouch either.

Mom sighed. Apparently, she was sober enough to pick up on my less than enthusiastic responses.

“Have you thought about what you’ll do after graduation? You are a senior this year, right?” She at least had the grace to look a little sheepish at that last one.

“Yup. Applications are all in. Nothing to worry about.” I shoved a bite of food in my mouth to keep myself from saying more. That wouldn’t do anybody any good.

“And Cole? How’s he?”

For goodness sake! Where had she been the last three years? “Uh, mom, I don’t really hang out with Cole anymore.”

She frowned. “Really? How come?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. He plays football and is really popular. Not exactly my type of friend anymore.” Lies.

Mom shifted in her seat, her frown deepening. “You’re not popular?”

My hand froze halfway to my mouth as I stared at her. I hated conversations like these. The ones that just served to emphasize exactly how out of touch with my life my own mother really was. I hadn’t talked to Mrs. Parker in three years and I imagine she knew more about my life than the woman sitting across from me. It was depressing.

“Yeah. No, mom. I’m not popular. Far from.” I restrained myself from snorting. Barely.

“Well, why not? You’re beautiful and smart,” her voice trailed off. She really didn’t know anything about me.

“Mom-,” I stopped myself and shook my head. It really wasn’t worth explaining. She’d probably forget about all of this by tonight anyway. What was the point?

“Joie-” mom’s voice cracked on my name and I watched with fascination as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, baby. So sorry.” She covered her mouth with her hand and sobbed.

Well, that was a new one. What brought that on? I wanted to feel bad for her. I wanted to believe her. But I didn’t.

I ate my dinner.

 

Cole

 

Life had taken on this new kind of torturous quality. I wavered between wanting to go back in time and telling Joie to stick it when she asked me to be in her play and wanting to pull her into my arms every time I saw her, which was way too often these days. It seemed like she was there whenever I turned around. I wanted to go back to the days when I knew how to avoid her. Ignore her. Pretend she had never been my best friend. Pretend I didn’t know what her lips tasted like. Pretend her coconut scent didn’t invade my every dream.

I threw myself into training. Basketball was over, and I needed to get ready for summer training camp. I woke up two hours before school to hit the weights and run. I had three PE classes throughout the day, one of which I spent throwing the football the whole time. After school, I was back at it for another two hours. Of course, on Tuesdays and Thursdays I had play practice.

Rehearsals were surprisingly fun. Joie was right. I was a natural actor. It just came easy to me. Not that I didn’t have to work for it, but I seemed to know without being told what needed to be done. I was also good at drawing out what I needed from my costars. The work we’d done so far was good.

Joie’s play was a retelling of Cinderella. I know, I know, you’d think it would be boring and cliché, but it wasn’t. It was funny and fresh and creative. Instead of a young girl under the thumb of her wicked step-mother, Calvin played the role of the mistreated youth, abused by his step-mother and step-brothers. The role of the step-mother, Prudy, was played by a heavy-set girl from the junior class. She had a shrill voice and manner of carrying herself that was just hilarious. She came across like a perfect shrew.

Some of my friends from the basketball team had been cast as my brothers, Cap and Ladd. The verbal interplay reminded me of real life interactions with them in the locker room and on the court. Smack talk. I thought the humor translated perfectly on stage. The audience was going to love it. Rehearsals brought back memories of camp with Joie and the fun and laughter we shared as we prepared all those silly skits. It was equal parts joy and pain.

And in the middle of all that- was Brianna. I’d been dating Brianna since the summer. It was the longest I’d ever been in a relationship, well, except Joie. Before Joie barreled back into my life I thought Brianna and I really had something going. She was cute, fun, fit in with all my other friends. She wasn’t needy like some of the other girlfriends my guys had to deal with. I had a lot on my plate and Brianna got that. Supported me even. One thing Brianna did not support was Joie’s play.

“I can’t tonight, Bri. I have play practice,” I told her between heated kisses in the backseat of my car. Her hand snaked up my thigh, threatening my resolve.

“Ugh. What is with you and this play? Just blow it off tonight. Cole, we never see each other anymore.” Her lips played with the skin over my collarbone. She nipped me with her teeth.

“I can’t,” I panted, letting my head fall back against the seat. She was going to kill me. “I’m the lead.”

“Stay. Lead me.” She guided my hand to the hem of her shirt.

Damn.

Her lips found mine again and for a second, I was lost.

“Is that you or me?” Brianna sat back.

“What,” I asked, pulling her back across my lap, moving in for her neck.

“That phone. Don’t you hear it?” She pushed against my chest, fishing around the backseat.

I heard it then. My brain started to clear. The ringing stopped and then started up again. I felt my phone vibrate against my leg.

“It’s mine.” I dug my hand into my pocket.

Once she realized it wasn’t her phone, Brianna reinitiated her onslaught. Have mercy!