Breathless (16 page)

Charlotte weakly climbed out of bed and slipped on her school blouse and skirt. As she pinned her hair back from her face, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked terrible, with red eyes and dark circles and skin so pale it looked transparent. But she didn't even care. She picked up her school bag and started out the door, but hesitated when she caught sight of her script. Charlotte looked at it for a moment, remembering how obsessed she had been with it the night before and how she had even gone to the theatre, she was so excited. For one brief moment, Charlotte considered tossing it straight into the wastebasket. So far the play had caused her nothing but trouble. But then she quietly took the script and placed it in her school bag, before walking out the door and heading downstairs.

"Charlotte," Helen said, sounding rather surprised. She put down the newspaper she was reading at the dining room table and studied her. "Sweetheart, you don't have to go to school today. We could even postpone first rehearsals for the show. Everyone knows what you're going through and I'm sure they would understand."

Charlotte took a pastry from the table and shook her head. "No, I want to go, Helen. Papa would have hated it if I missed school because of him. And I couldn't let down the rest of the company by postponing the first rehearsal. After all, I'll probably need all the practice I can get."

"Charlotte, no one would mind if you needed-"

"Helen, I want to do this," Charlotte stressed. "Celia will be at school if I need anything. And you and Lewis will both be at rehearsal. I'll be fine, Helen. I want to do this," she told Helen definitely.

"This is why you inspired me to write the show, Charlotte," came Lewis' quiet voice from behind her. Charlotte turned to see him standing in the doorway. "And this is why I knew I could take a chance on you. Because I knew that you were stronger than anyone else realized. "

"I think...I think that Sylvia might have taught me how to be strong," Charlotte admitted.

"No," Lewis disagreed. "I think you taught Sylvia."

Charlotte's heart fluttered a bit and tears pricked at her eyes. She enraged Lewis and buried her face in his suit jacket, which smelled of cologne and fresh ink. He smelled nothing like her father had, but it was still a wonderful feeling to be comforted by someone she knew loved her.

"Besides," Charlotte said, pulling away and wiping her eyes. "I think that if anything, this will help me with my acting, to help me tap into my emotions. Or maybe acting will help me through this time."

And it did. Charlotte soon discovered that she could escape all of her feelings when she was onstage. She could pour her feelings out into a dramatic scene or make herself feel better during a happy one. She learned she could depend on her castmates to lift her up when she needed encouragement, to give her advice when she was frustrated, to be friends and companions. Charlotte loved knowing that she could come offstage and see Helen standing in the wings, ready to give her a few words of insight, or that Lewis would always be sitting in the audience, taking notes on what Charlotte did well or what she should do next time to make her role more believable. She was thankful for their advice, and for the advice of the other cast members. She wanted to be the best she could be.

The director of the play, Mr. Danube, was particularly helpful. He was sweet and soft-worded, and kind. He knew just how to retrieve the emotions he needed from Charlotte, and never treated her like an amateur. He was glad to help her with whatever she needed, even when she was sure he had much more important things to do. She also very much enjoyed the company of the young girl who played her sister in the show, a tiny thing with long auburn hair named Emilie. Emilie was only ten years old, but already had the composure and theatrical abilities of a woman in her twenties. Charlotte, who had always wanted a younger sister, looked forward to the days when she and Emilie would lunch together or explore the theatre.

One night, as they enjoyed a short snack together between blocking a few scenes, Emilie asked Charlotte interestedly, "When do you think we'll meet the boy who plays Leighton?"

Charlotte shrugged and wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm not sure. I suppose he just hasn't had to be here since he hasn't been in any scenes yet."

"Helen hasn't been in any scenes yet, and she still comes to every rehearsal," Emilie observed, her big brown eyes wide and thoughtful. "The script describes him as very handsome and charming. I hope we get to meet him soon." A sly smile spread across her face. "You get to kiss him, Chary," she told Charlotte. "I hope is handsome. For your sake."

"I know," Charlotte agreed, smiling down at Emilie. "Me too."

And as if Emilie could foresee the future, when the two returned from their break, their castmates were crowded around someone new, laughing and joking as if they all knew one another.

"Charlotte!" Mr. Danube beamed as he caught sight of her. "Come meet your Leighton!"

Emilie tugged at Charlotte's hand and gave her a knowing smile. "Go meet him. I will later," she whispered and pushed Charlotte forward, disappearing back into the wings. Charlotte continued forward, a bit nervous. This was the boy who she was going to spend a lot of her time with. She was going to share her first onstage kiss with him. She was going to have to fall in love with him in front of hundreds of people, and make people believe that it was real. She had never really fallen in love before. It was strange to be meeting someone who she would have to fall in love with.

"Here he is, back from Stratford," Mr. Danube told Charlotte excitedly, "where he's been performing for the past five months. But I didn't care. Lewis and I both knew we needed him for this role, so we were willing to wait for him to finish Shakespeare's silly plays."

Someone moved aside, and Charlotte finally caught sight of him. She immediately understood why Lewis and Mr. Danube had wanted him to play Leighton so badly-he was handsome in a very classic way, with chestnut brown hair that was parted to the side, and deep eyes framed with thick lashes. Everything about him seemed so warm, and open, and old-fashioned, as if he were a true gentleman. Charlotte already felt as if she could trust him. She already didn't feel as anxious about their onstage relationship as she had been only moments earlier.

"Hello, Charlotte," he said with a welcoming smile, extending his hand to her. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you. I've heard such flattering things about you."

"Charlotte," Mr. Danube began with a grin. "This is Wesley Craig."

Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise. "You're Wesley? You're going to be in this show?"

He nodded, smiling. "Yes. And I'm so thrilled to be a part of it."

Charlotte couldn't think of what to say, after what Topher had told her. Why would Lewis ask for Wesley to be a part of the show when he knew about the troubles between him and Jack? Did Jack even know?

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," Mr. Danube told them, and walked away to speak with a stage manager.

"I take it you've heard something about me?" Wesley asked with an amused smile playing across his face.

"A little," Charlotte admitted with a smile. "From Topher."

"Ah, Topher," Wesley grinned. "My childhood best friend. I assume he at least told you pleasant things about me? Nothing too embarrassing?"

"No, no," Charlotte laughed. "All good things."

"Good," Wesley nodded. "And I promise you that everything I've heard about you has been brilliant. Helen still likes to phone me at least once a week while I'm away, and she can't ever stop talking about you. You should be well aware of how glad she is to have a girl in the house to spoil and dote on."

"Helen's wonderful," Charlotte told him. "She's like a mother to me."

"As she was to me," Wesley said quietly with a smile.

"Why didn't she or Lewis tell me that you were going to be playing Leighton?" Charlotte asked, not understanding. "I don't know why they hid this from me. I was so stressed that I wouldn't be able to form a relationship with the person cast. Just telling me that it was someone they trusted would have made me feel so much better."

Wesley sighed and shook his head. "I don't think they wanted to burden you with the news. They've probably figured that you've heard about me and the...difficult situation with Jack. They just don't want more stress added to your conscience." Seeing Charlotte's frustrated expression, Wesley put his hand on her shoulder. "They trust you, Charlotte. Believe me. But they also feel that you have a lot on your plate. They don't want you overburdened." He said amusedly, "Lewis was right. A person can tell your exact emotions just by the look in your eyes. They really are magnificent."

Charlotte blushed. "Thank you," she murmured. She was unused to getting compliments from such sweet, handsome young men. Celia would die when she told her.

"Can I make all of this up to you?" Wes asked. "Could we maybe have dinner before a rehearsal or something? I'm sorry if that sounds too terribly forward," he said quickly, "but I've heard such intriguing things about you from Lewis and Helen. I know that if they're impressed by someone, then that person must be pretty special. And in all honesty, Charlotte," Wesley told her truthfully, "I've been terribly anxious to meet you."

Charlotte couldn't suppress her grin. "I've been anxious to meet you, too. It was all so mysterious. I was curious."

Wesley laughed. "I hope I wasn't too large of a disappointment. I'm just a chap in a jumper who loves Oscar Wilde and Shakespeare and Ella Fitzgerald. Just someone who secretly enjoys cooking more than he should and thinks Jean Harlow is far too beautiful for this world. I'm that person who enjoys a good speech or book, but who knows how to value silence." He shoved his hands into his pockets abashedly. "And apparently, I make really bad first impressions, as well."

"No, not at all," Charlotte told him with a smile. "In fact, it's one of my favorites."

"Charlotte," one of the stage managers walked up. "Helen wanted for you to know that the car's here to pick you up. She and Lewis would like for you to get some sleep if you're going to school tomorrow."

"Thank you," Charlotte said. She smiled at Wesley. "Goodbye. I'll see you soon."

"I'll walk you out," he offered. She nodded and they started toward the back door. "So you still attend normal school?" he asked interestedly.

Charlotte nodded. "When I first came, I had a tutor. But I was so terribly bored all of the time. So finally I convinced Lewis to let me attend normal school. And I don't want to quit now. I at least want to finish the year."

"I always loved going to school, too," Wesley told her. "I even loved going to University. But I missed theatre far too much, so Helen suggested I put off school for a while and perform until I was happier. And I guess I've never stopped. It makes me a little too happy, probably."

"I don't know how that's possible," Charlotte admitted. "But I don't think I'm the right person to talk about happiness. I don't think I was ever a very happy person."

"That's not what Helen and Lewis tell me," Wesley said, sounding surprised. "If anything, it sounds like you've brought sunshine to the old house."

Charlotte chuckled. "It's easy to when the only other person around is Jack." She immediately regretted her words. She didn't like to put Jack down, even when he was being terrible. He already had enough critics.

As if reading her mind, Wesley said, "Jack's his own person. And no one really knows how to just leave him to himself. Everyone is always trying to save him. But I don't think he really needs to be saved. I think that he might be stronger than the rest of us."

Charlotte paused for a moment. "I've never been able to put that into words. But that's exactly how I think Jack is."

Wesley smiled at Charlotte, looking slightly impressed. "Then you know Jack better than most people care to. Or at least you've taken the time to." They reached the back door and Wesley opened it for Charlotte, like a true gentleman. "Which means a lot to me. Because even after everything that has happened, I still really care about Jack, as if he were really my brother. And I often worry that the reason he is how he is...maybe it's because not enough people do care about him. They treat him like a lost cause. So thank you. For not thinking that way."

Charlotte shook her head. "I don't. If anything, I think he may think of me that way." She gave Wesley a tired smile. She had never really let on to anyone exactly how much she cared what Jack thought of her. But in all honesty, it mattered a great deal to her.

"If it matters for anything...I don't think I could ever get bored of you," Wesley told her, with such pure kindness in his voice that Charlotte had hardly heard from anyone. It was so refreshing to meet someone like him. She was sure she had never met anyone like him before.

From out of the corner of her eye, she caught the sight of car headlights pulling up to the building.

"Thank you for walking me out," Charlotte told Wesley gratefully and began to walk toward the car.

"Wait," Wesley said suddenly, grabbing her hand and pulling her back. "What I said earlier...do you really think we could spend some time together? Lunch or...even a dessert? Coffee maybe?" She smiled at Charlotte. "I just really would love to spend some time with the girl who made my aunt and uncle fall so in love with her. Will you do me that favor?"