Kiss Me, Stupid

by Gia Riley

  “For what? Me?” I can’t believe he’d do that. He’s not the type to give up that easily.

  “Yes, you. Hollis knows where he and I stand. We’ve discussed it. And he thinks very highly of you.”

  Fuck. Now, I feel like shit for leaving him behind.

  “Maybe we should wait for him,” I tell her as I slow down and look over my shoulder.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s freezing. Come on, we’re not stopping.”

  I catch up to her, and she looks up at me with a shy smile.

  We walk in silence for a block or two, and then I can’t take it anymore. This might be the only chance I have to talk to her all day, and I’m blowing it.

  “Will you go out with me tonight?”

  “Where?” she asks.

  I have absolutely nothing planned, but I know I can get my hands on tickets to any show in town. It’s one of the perks of the business. Chandler’s a dancer, so I think of a show that has the most dancing—something high in production with all the bells and whistles.

  “There’s the revival of 42nd Street. Do you want to go?”

  “Are you serious? I love that show! How’d you know?”

  “I didn’t. I just took a guess.”

  She looks away from me and focuses on the ground in front of her. Shy Chandler is adorable. “You’d sit through that for me?”

  “I work on Broadway, Chandler. I sit through the same show night after night.”

  “Have you been in any?”

  Nodding, I tell her, “Yes. None of my roles were big, but I got a few jobs for the simple fact that I could sing. Can’t dance for shit though.”

  She giggles, and the sound is the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time.

  I don’t want it to stop, so I risk total embarrassment when I tell her, “I wore tights once.”

  We get caught in a crowd at the crosswalk near the theater. She’s laughing so hard that she’s not paying attention to where she’s going, so I grab her hand and pull her through the throng of tourists.

  When we make it to the door, she glances at our hands, and I let go of her. I wait for the awkward silence, but she surprises me and smiles.

  “I wish I could have seen those tights. I just can’t picture it. You’re so, so … well, you’re just a lot of guy.”

  “A lot of guy?” I laugh.

  “You’re hot. You know you are,” she says. “And you’re built. You look more like an athlete than a musician or singer.”

  “A lot of athletes take ballet. Did you know that? It helps with their agility and flexibility.”

  “If you tell me you took ballet, it’s over, Wirth.”

  “Over?” We haven’t even started yet.

  Thankfully, she explains herself and says, “I mean, you’ll have to prove it. Tights and everything.”

  “I didn’t take ballet. But I’ll show you whatever you want.”

  I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. Chandler looks like she’s hit the lottery.

  “I might hold you to that,” she says just as we walk into the theater.

  I have no idea what I’m in for, but I’m pretty sure I have a date with Chandler tonight. Now, I just have to score the tickets.

  Chandler

  I try to swallow the lump in my throat as Wirth leads me inside. Thoughts of his tights are gone, and my laughter vanishes just as fast.

  I’ve been in this theater once before, but today, it’s so much bigger. When I was just a guest, I wasn’t swallowed up by the rafters or the rows upon rows of seating. Seats that’ll be filled every night.

  Wirth stuffs his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his heels while I take it all in. He’s staring at everything I am, but he’s probably been here a thousand times, so he’s immune to the charm and character of the building.

  “You can go,” I tell him.

  He looks torn. “Do you want me to introduce you to some people first?”

  “I have to do this by myself.” But I can’t move. My feet are like lead weights, and I’m slowly sinking into the hundred-year-old floor. “Maybe just push me in the right direction.”

  He doesn’t push me. Instead, he sticks his foot out and trips the redhead walking by.

  My mouth hangs open in shock, mostly because she wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were focused on the piece of paper in her hands.

  Stunned, she steadies herself and turns her head toward Wirth. I wait for her wrath, but instead, she beams.

  “Wirth,” she says. “You’re back!” She jumps into his arms and wraps her legs around his waist.

  They know each other. Judging by how hard she’s squeezing him around the neck, they really know each other.

  “Miss me?” he says with a laugh, eating up the attention. If he’s trying to make me jealous, it’s working.

  “I’ve missed you every day. This place isn’t the same without you, but I didn’t expect you to be back for weeks. Did you finally get some time off?”

  Wirth’s smile disappears, and when he doesn’t respond, she leans back far enough to inspect his face.

  “I’m guessing it didn’t go as expected?”

  “Not exactly,” he tells her.

  “We have so much to catch up on. I want to hear everything.”

  She’s not asking. She’s telling. And Wirth doesn’t bother informing her that he and I have a date.

  He just says, “Okay,” confusing me even more.

  Finally, he sets her on her feet and then turns toward me. “Isla, this is my roommate Chandler. Chandler, this is none other than—”

  “Isla Baker,” I whisper, finishing his sentence for him.

  At first glance, she looks normal, like an average dancer you’d see in any studio. But Isla is anything but average or normal. She’s on her way to becoming a legend.

  “Nice to meet you, Chandler.”

  I nod because I can’t stop tripping over my tongue to speak. She giggles at my expression and then goes back to talking with Wirth.

  Zoned out, I don’t hear another word. I just stare at the red velvet curtain of hair, wondering what it’s like to be her.

  Wirth snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Chandler.”

  Once I realize Isla’s gone, feeling returns to my body. “That was her, Wirth.”

  “And you handled it so well.” He chuckles.

  “Oh, shut up. If that were Garth Brooks, you’d shit your pants, too.”

  He glances at my ass, and I roll my eyes.

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  Laughing, he points toward the stairs at the side of the stage. “Take those. Once you’re behind the curtain, you’ll see everyone else. You’d better hurry.”

  I glance at my watch and cringe. I was so starry-eyed; I’m almost late.

  “I’ll keep your bag with me. Give me your coat, too.”

  I peel off my coat and sweats, and then I run up the stairs toward the stage. I realize how relieved I am that Wirth is in the building today. Hollis, too. Because this is way scarier than I anticipated.

  Joining a stretching circle behind the curtain, I sit next to a girl who looks as green as I do.

  “Chandler,” I tell her, holding out my hand.

  She shakes mine and gives me a warm smile. “Mallory.”

  A few more girls and a couple of guys file in. They bring so much swagger with them; it’s clear they’re full of experience. They’re who I’ve wanted to be my whole life, and here I am, sitting in the newbie circle, hoping my body holds up to whatever demands I’m given.

  “Do you think we’ll ever look like them?” Mallory asks.

  I glance at my black tights and leotard, wondering how they make theirs look so regal. “I sure hope so.”

  The choreographer, Ms. Sue, joins the dancers. She rattles off a slew of instructions, and everyone splits into lines of five. Mallory and I stand up, unsure of where we’re supposed to be.

  When she turns toward us, my sto
mach churns, and I pray we’re not screwing up already.

  “Come here, ladies,” she says.

  The six newbies join her center stage. Bright lights smack us in the face when the curtain opens. I can’t see beyond the first few rows, but it’s still the most amazing view.

  I’m onstage in a Broadway theater. This is really happening.

  “You’ve made it,” she says. “Take a minute to soak it up. And then we’ll get down to business.”

  And she isn’t kidding. The second the lights dim, she whisks us off the stage and into a back room.

  It’s not much bigger than my living room, and in a matter of minutes, she’s throwing choreography at us, expecting us to retain each movement. I try to pay extra attention to the details, making sure I punctuate my movements at all the right places.

  The rest of the day is spent just like this, the six of us in the back room, learning the opening number and part of the next. And, just when I’m feeling extra capable and thankful that I’m here, Ms. Sue shows us the headshots of the girls we’re replacing. She doesn’t leave it at that. No, she tells us what happened to each girl, a warning of sorts that this gig can be pulled out from under us in a matter of minutes.

  The girl I’m replacing broke her leg—a stress fracture that grew until she collapsed and had to crawl offstage on the first night of previews. Because she hadn’t listened to her body or gotten checked out, she’s out of the production for this season and maybe some of the next. Her misfortune was my big break, and that’s when I realize how cutthroat show business really is.

  Ms. Sue dismisses us after that, and I go in search of Wirth.

  I don’t have to look hard to find him though. As soon as I open the door to our tiny studio, Wirth’s leaning against the wall, next to Hollis. They both take a step forward and smile.

  “Do you always have hot guys waiting for you?” Mallory whispers.

  “They’re just my roommates.”

  “I wish I had your housing assignment,” she says. “Actually, that might be bad. I wouldn’t get any sleep if I was looking at him all night.”

  I turn my head to see who it is she’s ogling, and I’m relieved when I see it’s Hollis. He’s staring back at her, and I make a mental note to ask him about it.

  I’m a step away from Wirth when Isla comes out of nowhere and gives Wirth a hug good-bye. They begin talking again, and Hollis catches my disappointment. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions, and today is no different.

  I’ve been riding a dancing high all day, and right now, I’m just exhausted and worn out. I want my things and a hot shower, so I take my bag off Wirth’s shoulder and put my coat on.

  “One sec, Chandler,” he says.

  I turn my back to him and Isla and say good-bye to Mallory. She’s moving as gingerly as I am.

  Hollis hands me a cookie, and I take a huge bite out of it, groaning from the sweetness. It’s so good; I could eat an entire dozen.

  “If you’re going to moan like that, I’ll bring you one every day,” he jokes.

  “Sorry, I’m starving.”

  I glance over my shoulder, and Isla’s still chatting Wirth’s ear off. She’s leaning into him, and he’s looking down at her. There’s something intimate about it, cozy even.

  “Can we go home, Hollis?”

  He knows why I want to get out of here and nods.

  It’s dark outside, and the sights and sounds of downtown are so breathtaking that I snap out of my funk. I’m back in tourist mode, looking up at all the billboards.

  “This is the best-looking commute I’ve ever had.”

  “Agreed,” Hollis says.

  But, when I turn my head, he’s not looking at the billboards. He’s looking at me.

  It’d be so much easier if he made me feel the way Wirth does. I’d do anything to get socked in the stomach by a bunch of butterflies at this very moment, but it doesn’t happen. They don’t show up.

  Hollis makes me feel special, safe, and cared for—all the things a boyfriend should do. And, if he were the only one vying for my attention, it’d be enough. I’d pick him. I’m sure of it. But Hollis isn’t the only one. I had to go and fall for Wirth’s voice in the back of a bar in Nashville. And then I did it again on an airplane. I just wish he weren’t screwing with my head.

  When Hollis finally looks away, he says, “It’s not what you think, you know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re just friends. She’s helped him process everything with his mom. I guess her dad had cancer, too, so she gets it.”

  That’s not just friends.

  That’s everything—a bond that he and I will never share.

  I don’t have the energy for this right now. And this is exactly what I feared about dating a roommate.

  “Why do you keep explaining his actions?” I ask him.

  Hollis shrugs. “Because I see the way you look at him. And I don’t want you to hurt.”

  Hollis is that good of a guy that he’d rather help the competition than fight it.

  “You know you’re amazing, right?”

  “But not enough,” he whispers.

  Wirth

  The walk home from the theater is cold and long. People are everywhere, clogging the streets. It’s the post-Christmas rush, that last push to see Rockefeller Center in all its glory before the tree disappears and the lights are taken down.

  It’s a pain in the ass. But I know the only reason I’m grumpy is because Chandler left without me. I saw the look she gave Isla. She thinks there’s something going on between us, but Isla and I have never been anything more than friends.

  I hate that Chandler has the wrong idea, so I jog the last two blocks, hoping to get home before she decides to make other plans. We have a date tonight, and I plan on holding her to it.

  Inside the apartment, it’s quiet. But I know they’re home because Hollis left his phone on the table by the door, and I can hear the shower running. All I can think about is Chandler’s naked body covered in soap.

  “You need to tell her,” Hollis says as he stands up from behind the island.

  “Tell her what?” I’m not sure if he’s talking about Nashville or before that. Maybe both. But I’m guessing it has something to do with Isla.

  “About your mom,” he says.

  Normally, Hollis wouldn’t be in my business like this. I know he’s only pushing me to talk because he’s gotten close with Chandler.

  “I will,” I tell him. “Is she pissed?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s nothing you can’t fix with that face of yours.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I question.

  “Nothing. I’m going to Fisher’s to watch the Rangers game.”

  They’re both huge hockey fans, so it’s not unusual for them to watch the game together. But he shouldn’t feel like he has to leave.

  “You can watch here if you want.”

  “It’s cool,” he says. “I need the break.”

  If I had to guess, I’d say he needs the break from Chandler. When he’s around her, he wants her. And, because she wants me, it’s just easier for him to go someplace else for a while.

  I get it. I’d do the same thing if she were into Hollis and not me. At least, I hope she’s still into me.

  “All right, come back after though. Bring Fisher if you want.”

  He’s out the door without an answer, and I realize he hurried because the shower just shut off.

  I walk down the hallway, and I’m peeling off my shirt when the bathroom door opens. Naturally, I turn my head and look.

  The sight of Chandler in only a towel makes me crazy. I want to push her right back into the shower—this time with me.

  “Hey, Chan.”

  Her eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, like she could fall asleep, standing up. If it wasn’t for the doorway she’s leaning against, I think she’d probably sink to the floor and curl up.

  “I’m not a brat,” she says softly a
s she stares at the floor. “I forgot my clothes.”

  “Clothing’s always optional,” I tell her, hoping to make her smile.

  She doesn’t though, and I know I’m gonna have to work for it.

  “What’s wrong, Chandler?”

  “Nothing.”

  Nothing is chick for everything. That much I’ve learned.

  “We have a date, and you can barely look at me. I’d say that’s a little more than nothing.”

  “I’m just tired,” she says.

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  She chews on her lip, and I wish she’d just ask me what she wants to know. At least then, I wouldn’t have to decide what to tell her or how far back to go with it.

  Finally, she says, “I thought you said you were single?”

  I smile because she just said that with so much sass that her accent swallowed her up. It’s fucking adorable.

  “Don’t do that,” she warns with a finger in my face.

  “Do what?”

  “That smile thing. This isn’t funny, Wirth.”

  I’m quickly learning a simple smirk is one of Chandler’s weaknesses. Her reactions are also a dead giveaway that she cares. And hell if I don’t like that, too.

  “I’m single, Chandler. You knew this.”

  “Fine,” she says with a huff. “What time are we leaving?”

  There’s no way she’s going out tonight. It was stupid to make plans after her first day on the job. Tonight, we’re staying right here.

  “We’re not.”

  Her shoulders slump, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she looks at the floor again and inches around me to get to her bedroom. Before she takes another step, I reach for her arm and turn her back around.

  “Wirth,” she warns.

  “If you’d let me finish, I was going to tell you to put on some sweats and meet me on the couch. We’ll order takeout.”

  “But you got tickets.”

  “I can get them for any night. Preferably one when you’re not completely drained.”

  Her eyes soften when she hears my reasoning. “Okay. Thank you. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

  The water’s still warm when I jump in the shower. I let the heat run over my face for a few seconds, hoping I don’t screw up this whole night. I don’t know why I care so much. I’ve got nothing to hide. Well, at least not about my mom. But I guess I’m worried Chandler’s opinion of me will change once she learns my whole story. And that’s what I’m trying to prepare myself for.