Authors: Cora Carmack
I wasn’t wasting time with the logical questions. I flew at Dom, shoving him backward.
“What the hell was that, Dom? The rape scene occurs
offstage
, you asshole!”
He grabbed my wrists as I went to push him again.
“Hey, I was trying to
connect.
I was improvising. That’s what actors do!”
Garrick’s hand came down on Dom’s arm, and he squeezed a little harder than was probably appropriate. Dom let go of my wrists immediately, and I backed away.
“Be that as it may,” Garrick began. “Actors also respect each other. Unless you’d like to be accused of assault, you okay something like that with your partner before hand.” I could see Garrick’s calm façade cracking. “Now go. You’re dismissed.”
I could tell Dom was pissed. He gave me a scathing look, and pushed open the door so hard that it banged against the wall outside. I just could not catch a break this week. Was the world dropping shit on everyone else or just me?
There was a feather light touch on my arm, and then Garrick was in front of me, cradling my arm in his hands. A bruise was already forming where Dom had grabbed me during the scene. Garrick ran a hand over his face, and then looked at me. He said, “I probably could have handled that better.”
I didn’t realize how much my head was still pounding until I laughed, and the movement sent pain ricocheting through my head. I closed my eyes on instinct. Garrick’s fingers brushed along my jaw, sending an earthquake of shivers across my skin from where we touched. I kept my eyes closed, because as long as they were closed, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? But if opened them, and I looked at his gorgeous face and I saw those lips . . . I’d be crossing into a completely different territory that was most definitely wrong, wrong, wrong.
A whispered, “Bliss . . .” was all the warning I had before his lips were on mine.
I
THOUGHT OF
how bad an idea the kiss was for exactly three seconds before I stopped thinking all together. His tongue swept into my mouth, searching and furious and demanding. It was passion in its rawest form. I’d always pretended to understand chemistry when directors talked about actors having it together on stage, but now I got it. Whatever happened when he touched me was like a chemical reaction—molecules changing, shifting, giving off heat.
God, there was so much heat.
Loud laughter that I recognized as Kelsey’s sliced through the haze in my mind, and I tore myself away from Garrick. There were other students outside waiting to come in. How long had I been in here alone with him?
He took a step forward to follow me, and I held up a hand.
“Stop! Stop it! You can’t just do that! We said we were forgetting about it!
You
said that, actually! You can’t say that and then do this!
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t look sorry. He looked like he wanted to do it again.
I shook my head, and shifted toward the door.
“Wait, Bliss, I am sorry. It won’t happen again, okay?”
“Okay.” That’s what I said, but this felt anything besides okay. He acted like I didn’t want that kiss as badly as he did, but hello! He had just as much to lose here as I did! Why was I the only one thinking about the consequences?
I exited to hear Dom mouthing off to a couple of the guys that had gathered close to the doors.
“The guy’s a complete dick. He acted like I was trying to rape her or something. It was just a kiss. Not like we haven’t done that before.”
I rolled my eyes. “And somehow it was even worse this time than it was before. Aren’t you supposed to get better with time, Dom?” His friends were laughing, but I still heard Dom call me a bitch.
I kept walking. I had just enough time to buy the biggest cup of coffee I could find before my next class.
The rest of the week was uneventful, thankfully. Garrick kept his distance, and I had enough going on to keep me distracted. We’d gotten our assignments in directing, which meant it was time to buckle down and read so that I could find a scene. Friday in Senior Prep we talked about our auditions, and he assigned us some reading about the Actor’s Equity Association. So, I spent most of the weekend scanning through every play I owned (and most of Cade’s) and reading the most boring breakdown of AEA known to the world.
The next week was signups for our first Mainstage Audition this term, and the next to last one for me ever. If I didn’t do well on Friday, I only had one more shot at making another show before graduation. I’d been in the first show of the year, and stage-managed another, but nothing since then. They’d already offered me Stage Manager of the last show of the year, but I’d been too scared to accept yet, in case I didn’t get a role in this. God, it was really starting to hit me. I was about to graduate, and my life was nowhere near where I thought it would be. When I started school three and a half years ago, I thought by now I’d have a plan. I thought I’d know positively what I wanted to do and where I was going. And if I was honest . . . I thought I would have met the guy I was going to marry by now. I mean, every married couple I knew met in college, and here I was only months away, and the idea of marriage at this point seemed preposterous to me.
It didn’t help that mom’s immediate question every time we talked was, “Have you met anyone yet?” I wondered briefly how she’d react if I told her the current state of my love life the next time she asked. Maybe she’d freak. Maybe she’d ask when we planned on getting married—it was hard to tell with Mom, sometimes.
How can people decide who they want to spend the rest of their life with at this age? I can’t even decide what to have for dinner! I can’t decide if I want to be an actor, even though I’ve already got $35,000 in student loans telling me I sure as hell better want to be an actor.
By the end of audition week, the thing with Garrick was starting to feel like the “no big deal” I kept saying it was. I got to class at the very last minute and was usually the first out of the room. True to his word, he kept it professional in class, which really just meant we only interacted the bare minimum. I never saw him at Grind again, and we’d been there a lot.
He was in the auditions, but so was every other faculty member. And not even his presence could dampen my excitement for this show. As an actress, I was always drawn more to classical roles than contemporary (hence the Shakespeare obsession), and we were finally doing a Greek show (well . . . a translation of a Greek show, anyway).
Phaedra
wouldn’t have been my first choice, considering it was all about forbidden love, which was so not what I needed right now. But, at the very least, I had a great understanding of my character when I auditioned. Sure, Phaedra was lusting after her stepson, not her professor, but the feelings were the same.
I hadn’t wanted a role this badly in a long time.
When it was my turn to enter the theatre for auditions, I felt good, confident. I knew my lines. I knew my character. I knew what it was like to want someone you can’t have. And more than anything . . . I knew what it was to want and not want something all at the same time. I poured every ounce of lust and fear and doubt and shame into that minute and a half performance. I wrenched myself open in a way I never did in real life, because here . . . here I could vent and deal and pretend it wasn’t about me . . . pretend it was about Phaedra. I was more honest under the heat of those lights than I ever was in the light of day.
And in minutes it was over, and I was back in the greenroom, left wondering if it was enough.
When auditions were over, we all went out to celebrate. They would post callbacks in the morning, and that would be a whole new thing to worry about, but for now, it was out of our hands.
All together (mostly seniors and juniors), we took up an entire section of Stumble Inn. Even though we were at separate tables—we talked across the room to each other obnoxiously and didn’t give a damn how many people we annoyed.
We started the night with shots of tequila, which was a little too eerily close to my night here with Garrick, but I shrugged it off. I was here with friends. It would do me some good to loosen up and have some fun.
I was at a table with Cade and Kelsey, of course. Lindsay was there, too, along with Jeremy, a cute sophomore that I’d drunkenly made out with last year. He’d sort of tagged along a lot since then, but I was pretty sure he knew nothing was going to happen between us. These days he was starry-eyed for our resident sex-crazed beauty, Kelsey. Then there was Victoria, who could easily have passed for Kelsey and Lindsay’s lovechild. She had Kelsey’s boobs (and her sluttiness), but Lindsay’s I-Hate-Everyone-and-Everything attitude. And finishing out the table was Rusty, who was pretty much the king of all things random and hilarious.
Jeremy was the only one too young to drink, but the waiter didn’t even bother carding the whole table. She looked at Cade’s ID, and then just scanned the others. We ordered drinks, food, and then some more drinks.
I was feeling pretty good by the time talk came around to auditions.
It was Rusty, who broke the ice. “So . . . how about that incest play?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s not incest, Rusty. They’re not related by blood.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugged. “I’ve got a step-mom, and I would shit my pants if she came on to me.”
Kelsey laughed, “That probably has more to do with you being gay.”
“I’ve met your step-mom. She can come onto me anytime,” Cade said.
If we were different kinds of people, Rusty would have gotten pissed, maybe punched Cade in the arm . . . or the face. Instead, they high-fived.
“Seriously, though, how did everyone do?” Rusty asked. “I was crap. I’ll be lucky to get soldier number two or the servant.”
Kelsey butted in, “I would kill to play Aphrodite. I mean, who else has the boobs for it?”
Victoria raised her hand, “Um, hello? Do your eyes not work?” She gestured at her chest.
“Come on, do you even want Aphrodite?”
“Hell no,” Victoria said. “Doesn’t mean my boobs don’t resent you ignoring them.”
Wide-eyed, Jeremy said, “I’d never ignore your boobs.”
Everyone laughed. Jeremy generally stayed pretty quiet when we were all out together. I guess it could be difficult to keep up with us, considering we’d spent every waking moment with each other for the past four years, and he was the newbie to the group.
“What about you, Bliss?” Lindsay asked. “We all know you’re wetting yourself just thinking about this.”
I might have blushed, if my cheeks weren’t already flushed from the alcohol.
“I think it went well. I just . . . I really get Phaedra, you know?”
Kelsey burst out laughing, and I kicked her under the table.
Cade smiled at me, “What? Are you lusting after some family member I’ve never met?’
I pushed at his shoulder, and he laughed, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.
“I’m kidding, babe.”
“I just . . . I get what it’s like to want something, but to try and force yourself to really believe that you don’t. It doesn’t even have to be about love. It’s about wanting something you can’t have or something you don’t think you deserve. Hell, we want the parts that our friends get, even though they’re our friends and we should be happy for them. We sit in the audience and think about how we would have done a role. We want what we can’t have. It’s human nature.”
I might have gotten a little carried away. The table was quiet when I finished.
Until Rusty said, “You are clearly not drunk enough!” So, we did more drinking, and our food arrived, looking greasy and glorious.
“You guys do realize there is one major topic we haven’t talked about.” Victoria raised an eyebrow, and continued. “Professor I’m sex incarnate and could probably get you pregnant just by looking at you.”
Most of the guys around the table (minus Rusty) groaned, while most of the girls (minus me)
plus
Rusty said various differentiations of “Hell yes!”
Victoria fanned herself. “Seriously, that first day when he spoke, I think his accent alone nearly gave me an orgasm.”
I stayed quiet, and Kelsey did, too, shooting me a questioning glance.
I could excuse myself and go to the bathroom. Would that seem bizarre? It’s not like I hadn’t had a lot to drink.
“Kelsey, why aren’t you backing me up here?” Victoria asked. “Can I just call dibs for as soon as we graduate?”
I tried to keep my face passive.
Kelsey smiled, “Oh, yeah, he’s cute. But he’s a little too prim and proper for me. I like a guy who is a bit more dangerous.” She winked at Jeremy, and I’m sure his jaw would have detached if it dropped any lower.
“What? His motorcycle isn’t dangerous enough for you?” Cade asked.
“He has a motorcycle? I didn’t know that!” She shot me an accusing look like I was betraying her by not relaying this piece of information.
“What happened with him and Dom?” Lindsay asked me. “Dom is still bitching about how he manhandled him during your audition.”
Cade’s hand slipped from the back of the booth to around my shoulders, and he gave me a quick squeeze.
“Dom’s just a jackass. Mr. Taylor just pulled him off of me, that’s all.”
Rusty smiled and pointed at Cade and me, “You two are so cute. ‘ Oh Mr. Taylor this and Mr. Taylor that.’ I think you’re the only ones still treating him like a teacher instead of a piece of meat.”
I rolled my eyes. I never called him Mr. Taylor to his face, but it just felt weird to talk about him with other people and call him Garrick. I felt like they’d be able to read all my secrets on my face, and they’d know exactly how un-teacher-like I considered him.
Maybe I did need that bathroom break after all. I nudged Cade, and he slipped out of the booth, and let me go. Every step away from that booth, my anxiety eased. I’d stay gone for a few minutes, then I’d come back and they’d be on a completely different conversation, and everything would be fine.
I was walking by the bar when I heard my name.
“Bliss!”
I turned, but didn’t see anyone.
“Bliss!”
The voice was closer, and this time when I looked behind the bar, I saw him—Bartender Boy.
I smiled, and tried to appear happy to see him. But honestly . . . I couldn’t even remember his name. There were far too many other things that had taken my focus that night. As always when I thought of Garrick, my stomach flipped and I had to concentrate on not getting lost in the memories.
When we were across the bar from each other, Bartender Boy said, “Hey . . . I hope it’s not creepy that I remember your name.”
It was. A little.
“I promise not to be creeped out, if you’ll forgive me for not remembering yours.”
His lips pulled down in a frown briefly before he smiled and said, “Brandon.”
“Right, Brandon. Of course. I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.”
“Well, let me make it a little bit better.” He pulled out a glass and poured me a shot of tequila. “On the house.”
I felt awkward taking the shot alone, but I couldn’t very well decline it. So, I thanked him, shrugged, and downed it in one gulp.
I laughed, not because anything was funny, but just because it seemed like the thing to do.
“Listen,” Brandon started. “I don’t mean to come on too strong, but do you want to go out sometime?”
Did I want to go out with him? More importantly, did I want to sleep with him? Despite all the craziness with Garrick, I was still a virgin. And I still wished I wasn’t. Here was another opportunity to fix that . . . one that didn’t involve breaking school rules and risking expulsion. I looked at him. Kelsey had been right; he was cute. And he was definitely interested.
I tried to imagine what sleeping with him might be like. I tried to imagine the shedding of our clothes, his hands against my skin, his lips against mine. I tried, but every image I conjured was of Garrick doing those things, not Brandon.