Curtain Call Page 2

  I pushed myself into a sitting position. “Josh, why are you calling?”

  He sighed, the sound magnified by the phone pressed to my ear. “I call every night.”

  The lump formed again in my throat and tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “Not anymore,” I said. “I can’t do this.”

  Josh fell silent again. Finally he said, “Are you sure, Han? I mean, really sure? Because I just don’t think I can do it, not have you in my life, I mean.”

  “I need some space,” I whispered. Space. I needed to find myself again, to sort out my priorities. Make sure Josh was what I wanted and not what I was just accustomed to.

  “Space.” Josh’s tone was flat. “I can give you space. Just don’t push me away permanently.”

  Swallowing hard, I said, “I can’t promise you anything.”

  “Just tell me you still love me,” Josh said. I could hear the hesitancy in his voice. I hated myself for causing him so much pain, but…I had to do this for me.

  “I do. I do love you, Josh, but right now I need to find out who I am. Good night,” I said, hanging up.

  My hand trembled as I laid the phone back on the nightstand. Tears flowed down my cheeks, and I did nothing to stop them, merely pressed my face into my pillow.

  Chapter Two

  The alarm on my phone chirped too early the next morning. Gray light filtered through the curtains. At least the day matched my mood. Every muscle in my body ached. Skipping class sounded like a good option. Too bad it was only our second week back. Besides I had my Capstone class today. I needed to find out what the requirements were for our final project.

  I stared at a new crack shaped like a pickup truck in the ceiling as I thought about the required senior course that I had alternately been waiting for and dreading through the past three and a half years of college. Capstone was supposed to be the culmination of our major program, but I feared I would fall horribly flat. Not like Harlow. Thinking about my older sister’s Capstone project made me pull the covers back over my head. She’d been on the perfect track, and then…ugh. That’s when she’d gotten pregnant.

  Shoving back my comforter, I trudged to the bathroom. Hayley was already up, singing in the kitchen. Pots clattered together as she made breakfast. I wondered how I had come from the same gene pool as a morning person. As the lukewarm spray from the shower hit me, I yelped. Our landlord kept assuring us that the hot water heater was in good working order, but I had my doubts. In the six months Hayley and I had been living here, I had yet to have a good, hot, steamy shower.

  Back in my room, I shoved my laptop and books into my bag, grabbed my wallet and keys, and headed for the living room. Hayley was just setting toast and eggs on our tiny laminate kitchen table. She hated that thing, but when I’d found it at the thrift store, I had to get it. Something about the vintage-y green-flecked top called to me.

  “Sit and eat,” Hayley said, sounding an awful lot like our mom.

  I shook my head as I shrugged on my winter jacket. “I have to get to Capstone class. I almost wish I could just have a simple final project instead of a whole semester long class. Still, it should be cool.”

  “Ooooh, exciting. Do you know what your project is yet?” Hayley sat down by herself and started eating.

  I pulled my gloves out of my pocket and said, “We’ll find out the requirements today, but I mean, we already know it involves writing and directing our own short shows. That’s what they always are.”

  Hayley nodded. “How are you doing this morning?”

  My eyes still felt gritty, and I had dark circles rimming my eyes that I saw loud and clear in the mirror after my shower. “Not great,” I admitted. “I feel like I got run over by a semi.”

  “It’ll get better,” Hayley said. She watched me tug on my gloves and grab a piece of toast. When she set her fork down, I knew she had something else to say, so I waited for it while I pulled on my backpack. Finally she asked, “Do you think you and Josh might get back together? Or is this a forever break up?”

  The thought of not having Josh in my life ever again chilled me to my bones. I froze. My mind raced, and my vision started to darken around the edges. Suddenly I felt too lightheaded. The edges of my vision blurred and darkened, and my breath hitched in my chest. Easing down onto the sofa, I shook my head.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But I don’t think I can picture my life without him. And Hayley, don’t ask me again why I did it. I just had to.”

  Hayley shot me her best cheerleader smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll only butt into your personal life eleven thousand times today. Have fun at class.”

  With a weak smile, I slipped out the door into our dank hallway, which always smelled like stale cigarette smoke. Even though our building was only two blocks from campus, on days like today I’d normally have Josh pick me up or wait for the bus, but I was running late. Hurrying out into the chilly winter morning, I realized I should have grabbed an umbrella. Angry dark clouds hung low in the sky, spitting sleety rain.

  I pulled my hood closer around my face, trudging toward the theater building. My mind drifted to the day before while tears threatened to fall again. Why had I messed everything up? Immediately I berated myself for the thought, because things had been messed up for months before I had the guts to do anything about it. Just like the time I skipped class because Josh couldn’t pick me up. Or the time I didn’t go to my department’s holiday party because Josh couldn’t go with me. Or every time I skipped little things like going to Crossroads for cheesecake because I didn’t want to go alone.

  With a soul shuddering sigh, I tried to push thoughts of Josh aside, replacing them with thoughts of my senior project.

  As it turned out, the sleet did a good job of distracting me. Patches of ice made the sidewalk a veritable landmine. My loathing for winter in northern Illinois only intensified as I stepped through a thin sheet of ice, and cold water invaded my too-thin sneakers. The squelch of my wet sock made me squirm. My pace quickened, and I made it to the building in record time.

  Welcomed warmth enveloped me the moment I pushed through the doors. To my left, I could hear the chatter of student workers in the theater’s ticket office, which opened soon. Ahead of me, groups of students lounged on the tacky seventies-style purple sofas adorning the lobby of the building. I turned right toward the massive, open pink staircase, practically flying up the treads on my way to class.

  “Where have you been?”

  My friend Angela moved her bag off the seat beside her as she raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I was running late,” I said as I pulled off my coat. I debated telling Angela about breaking up with Josh, but just as I opened my mouth our professor breezed in.

  “Okay, people,” Dr. Perkins said in his heavy accent. He sounded like a cross between a British gentleman and a New York cab driver. The sound was the strangest thing I’d ever heard. “We have business to get to today.”

  Around me people groaned. “Business” meant discussing our senior projects. For most of us, even though we had known all throughout our careers as theater majors that this moment would come, the thought of actually bringing a project to fruition seemed impossible.

  Dr. Perkins laughed. “Come on, guys, your senior projects should be fun. Just remember the showcase brings lots of talent scouts out, so you want this to be your best possible work.”

  “Right,” Angela called out. “And I’ll just put the rest of my classes and life on hold while I produce a Broadway quality show.”

  People laughed. Angela grinned. Dr. Perkins opened his briefcase, and pulled out a DVD. He popped it into the player at the front of the room. “Broadway quality is not necessary, Ms. Jones. Remember these are all shorts or one acts. No longer than twenty minutes. Be funny. Be serious. Make your audience feel something.” He paused, rubbing his hand over his short graying beard. “No one in the department expects you to put the rest of your life on hold, and we certainly expect you to keep up with the rest of your cl
asses. We do expect that as seniors, though, you have given some thought as to where you want to begin your careers. The showcase is a wonderful way to highlight your strengths.”

  Dr. Perkins pushed Play and the class settled back to watch last year’s showcase. My professor’s words echoed in my head. Did I have any idea where I wanted to start my career? I’d been…unsatisfied with theater lately. In high school, theater had been everything to me, my creative outlet, my social network. I figured it made sense to major in theater, but even as a freshman, I had known I didn’t want to major in acting so I had chosen design. The choice had never suited me. And as a senior I felt like a square peg banging my head on a round hole.

  My heart just wasn’t in it the same way it had been when I had started college. Honestly, I had blamed everything going on with Josh, but watching the students from last year, I could see that my career hesitation had nothing to do with Josh. My passion for theater had dimmed, and now I had to do a whole project that would make or break me in the program. Not doing the project would mean I wouldn’t graduate on time. And that wasn’t an option. I had a scholarship to consider. A full ride didn’t come along very often.

  But even if I completed all the requirements, what would I do after getting my degree?

  As the video ended, Dr. Perkins passed out sheets with the Capstone project requirements on it. He leaned against the desk at the front of the room, folded his arms, and regarded us for a few moments before saying, “Think carefully about this. Your proposals need to be on my desk by Friday. Once your proposal is approved by the department committee, you can get started.”

  I scanned the requirements. Near the bottom I found something that perked me up a bit. We could have a partner. Yes, it said that we would be graded on a more rigorous scale but just having someone to go through the process with would make it so much more bearable.

  Dr. Perkins retired to the chair behind the desk, and opened a newspaper signaling that we had time to chat and plan. Immediately I turned to Angela.

  “Want to team up?” I asked.

  Angela shook her head and gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but I’ve had my senior project all planned out since I was a freshman.”

  Trying to hide my disappointment, I forced a smile. My cheeks pulled taut from the effort, and my lips turned rubbery. “I understand. No problem.”

  “Hannah, is something wrong? You don’t seem like yourself today,” Angela asked, lowering her voice.

  I shook my head. The all-too familiar lump resurfaced in my throat, clogging my words. Tears burned the backs of my eyelids. “Josh and I broke up last night,” I whispered.

  Angela gasped. I had never actually heard anyone gasp before, and under different circumstances, it might have been funny. Instead, I just looked at her, feeling forlorn. Her eyebrows arched upward, and I could tell she was trying to find the right words. So I just nodded, knowing she’d understand my nonverbal cues.

  “Listen, maybe we could work together,” Angela said, looking down at her requirement sheet again. “I’m sure there’s plenty you could add.”

  “No,” I said, finding my voice. “No, I think it’s great that you have the whole thing planned out. I’ll figure this out. Don’t take pity on me.” I gave a shaky laugh. “I’m the one who broke things off.”

  “What happened?” Angela leaned forward on her desk. She seemed more curious than concerned.

  I shrugged and looked down at my hands. This wasn’t really something I wanted to discuss in class, but a quick glance around the room assured me that no one was paying any attention to us. “Stuff. Josh and I made some decisions that we shouldn’t have,” I admitted.

  Angela looked confused. “Did he do something?”

  “This isn’t about Josh,” I said, a little too sharply. “It’s about me, and what I need to do for myself. A step back will help me figure out where we went wrong.”

  Angela leaned back in her chair. “Okay, I respect that. Let me know if you need anything. I’m always here to listen.”

  I nodded and closed my eyes. Alienating my friends wasn’t the next thing on my to do list. I turned to apologize to Angela for snapping, but she had already gotten up to talk to Dr. Perkins. Feeling deflated and flat out exhausted, I opened my notebook to start brainstorming. I stared at the blank page for what felt like an eternity. Why couldn’t I think straight today? Other than the obvious reasons. In the past, I would have been able to reel off the list of possibilities within a matter of seconds. Today, my body felt heavy, and normal things like pushing open a door took extra effort. All I wanted to do was go back to bed.

  “Hey, I couldn’t help overhearing that you want to team up.” The deep, mellow voice flowed over me like honey. I turned in my seat, surprised to see Max Caldwell standing behind me. He smiled, revealing straight white teeth. “I’m Max, by the way.”

  “I know,” I replied. Everyone knew Max. He starred in everything. And he was good too.

  He dropped into Angela’s vacated seat. “So do you?”

  I tapped my pen against the notebook. Working with someone as talented as Max would practically guarantee me a good grade, but what would I bring to the equation? With a shrug, I said, “Maybe.”

  “I’ll tell you what,” Max said. “If you decide you want to team up for this project meet me over at Crossroads around four. We can go over ideas and get the project proposal done. If not, no harm, right?”

  With another wide grin, he unfolded himself gracefully from the desk and ambled across the room to his seat. I had little to no idea what to say about that turn of events. Teaming up with Angela had been a desperate attempt at saving my butt. My only hesitation was that I didn’t know Max at all. Good looking, smooth theater guys made me nervous. Thoughts of my high school crush on the theater golden boy slipped into my mind unbidden. A shiver of disgust trembled down my spine.

  What would Josh think of me teaming up with a guy? Not that Josh had any say in how I lived my life or whom I worked with. And just like that, the thought of Josh made me want to cry. The fact that it made me want to cry caused a surge of anger to rush through me. My head began to throb, and I finally just dropped my forehead into my hands.

  A hand on my shoulder caused me to jump. Angela gave me a sympathetic smile, and jerked her head toward the door. Most of the other students had trickled out. She waited for me to pack up my bag.

  “So what did Max want?” Angela asked as we headed down the pink staircase.

  I pulled on my coat, and slowly zipped it up before I answered. “He asked me if I wanted to team up with him for the senior project.”

  Angela’s jaw went slack. Her eyes got wide. “I can’t believe that. You’ll have the best project. You did tell him yes, right?”

  The lobby was crowded with people as we headed for the doors. Shaking my head slowly, I said, “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t say yes, but…” I paused, staring outside at the nasty sleet. “I don’t really know Max.”

  The umbrella Angela pressed into my hand was much appreciated. She popped open her hot pink one, and we dashed outside. We headed in the direction of the student union. The little pings of icy rain on the umbrella made us hurry faster.

  Once we got to the union, half-soaked and shivering like mad, we made our way to the Coffee Hut. I ordered my caramel mocha latte. While I waited for Angela to order, I thought about Max’s offer. Why did he want to work with me? When I voiced my question, Angela said, “Who cares why he wants to work with you? Think how amazing your project will be.”

  We sat down at a table near the front windows. I watched the raindrops chase each other down the pane. “Maybe I’ll meet him.”

  “Hmmm?” Angela asked through a mouthful of hot chocolate doused with foamy whipped cream.

  I blushed, heat creeping up my neck. “Oh, nothing,” I said. “I was just thinking out loud. Max asked me to meet him at Crossroads today to talk about the project. And…I guess I’ll go.”

  “You should,” s
he agreed. “Seriously, if you’re worried about the project, teaming up with Max makes so much sense.”

  Glancing back out at the sleet that now seemed to be changing to snow, I wasn’t so sure I agreed.

  ****

  I doodled through most of my other classes. Luckily, being the second week of class meant that we weren’t covering anything complicated yet. Mostly we were still hearing introductory lectures. My thoughts cycled through grief over my breakup with Josh and my curiosity about Max and his offer. What if I developed feelings for him? What if he developed feelings for me? Was there a reason he wanted us to work together?

  By the time four o’clock rolled around, the rain had completely changed to snow, which was starting to stick to the grass and trees. I debated running home to grab something warmer, but decided I didn’t have time. My phone buzzed in my pocket as I trudged the block and a half from campus to Crossroads. I missed the call, but as I fumbled with mittened fingers to open the phone, I was glad I had. Josh. I wasn’t ready to talk to him yet.

  Crossroads was quiet when I entered. The welcome warmth and delicious smells of fries and cheesecake enveloped me as I scanned the restaurant for Max. I found him in a booth near the back bank of windows, looking cozy on the faux car seat. As I hurried past elderly couples enjoying the early bird special, I was surprised to see my grandma.

  “Hannah,” she said, surprise coloring her voice. “I’d like you to meet my friends, Millie and Ethel. We’re thinking of starting a…Bingo club.”

  Despite everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, my emotions weren’t so out of whack that I believed for a second that my grandmother would be caught dead playing Bingo. I arched an eyebrow, adjusted my backpack, and said, “Bingo?”

  Grandma’s face colored. “Archery?”

  I shook my head, and Grandma frowned. “Just don’t tell Grandpa Duke that you saw me here,” she said.