by Cassie Mae
Kate follows my lead in perfect synchrony, and I wonder if maybe she wasn’t crazy to think we could do this. That I could do this. Even in these way-tight pants and a belt buckle that’s digging into places I really don’t find comfortable.
Then her beautiful voice comes out across the stage at me, her face completely, one-hundred-percent Ado Annie.
I know what the script says, and we’ve practiced it before, a million times, but not in front of anyone. So when her hands slither up the buttons on my shirt and then she pulls my collar in to sing the last line, I lose Will Parker. He’s gone, out the window and ran across town. It’s me, Seth. And all I’m thinking is she’s going to turn away from me in two seconds, I’m going to have to pull her back and kiss her.
I’ve never rehearsed that part with her. I’ve always let her turn and yell “End scene!” before anything happened. She always laughed it off, telling me she hopes Nick doesn’t have sour cream and onion chips before performances. Suddenly I’m trying to remember what the last thing I ate was.
Nothing is going through my ears. I know the orchestra is still playing. Kate’s twirling away from me and I snap for her wrist, swing her around and trap her in my arms. Her eyes are so dark. Really beautiful. I usually focus on those plump lips—or the floor—but I think I need to give her eyes a bit more attention.
It’s still her through the stage makeup, but not her at the same time. Kate would never wear as much goop as she has on right now, but I can still see Kate through it. Back at Jamba, whenever we bump into each other and my eyes land on hers for seconds that feel like hundreds of seconds, she’ll give me the look she’s giving me now. I don’t have a scientific term for that look. It’s just…happy.
“Seth, you’re supposed to kiss her.”
Who was that? Was that my brain, or Mr. Steiman? I don’t know, but I’m frozen. She’s in my arms and I’m not moving an inch. I don’t know if I can. What if I miss her mouth? What if my nose goes the wrong way? What if she pulls away so fast because it’s absolute torture to be doing this with me?
Will Parker would’ve kissed her and been done by now. But nope. Not me. I stand like an idiot, the orchestra playing the same notes over and over and over because I haven’t closed the distance.
I can’t stop staring at those gorgeous lips. I can’t do this. Not a chance. Not in front of all these people. It’s not just that it’s my first kiss, it’s Kate. If it were anyone else, maybe I could’ve done it. Made it quick, and stepped back and passed out backstage. But it’s not. She’s different to me…more than just a stage kiss.
Kate breaks character and slithers out of my arms. She gives me a half-smile, like she knows I’m chickening out, and if she didn’t move, we’d be standing in that position till the end of time.
The orchestra stops playing.
“I guess that will have to do for now.” Mr. Steiman sighs. “But you’ll have to get closer than that on Friday.”
I nod, wiping my sweat-filled palms on my pants. Kate puts on a full smile and taps the brim of my hat down so it covers my eyes.
“Not too shabby, Will Parker.”
I nod again, even though I don’t agree with her.
“Okay, that’s it for today!” Mr. Steiman calls. “We’re getting close, so make sure you’re all rested and you’ve got those lines down! Wendy and Ben, I want you two to go through People Will Say We’re in Love without dry humping each other on stage. Think you can do that?”
Everyone laughs, but Mr. Steiman’s serious. Wendy and Ben nod and wave him off, and in true horny fashion, Ben rams his tongue down her throat.
See? There’s plenty of kissing in this play. They don’t need another one. Maybe we can just cut that part. I can tell Mr. Steiman the curtains can just close right before I’m supposed to—
“Hey, can I steal you away for a bit?” Kate says real close to my ear. I jump, then shiver from the chills running up my spine. She laughs. “Just get dressed and meet me in the courtyard by the weight room?”
I nod, refusing to turn toward her because her face is right there.
“Great, thanks.” She twirls around and makes her way to the girls’ dressing room and I go the opposite direction.
I can’t wait to get off this stage and out of these jeans.
“Think fast!”
Kate flings a bag of something at my face just as I step into the courtyard. My brain doesn’t think fast enough and it smacks the bridge of my nose.
At least it wasn’t a wall.
“Ah, darn it,” she says picking the bag up from the ground at my feet. “Now they’re all crushed.”
I smirk and look down at the pretzels in her hand, and yeah, I can see through the clear part of the plastic the entire bottom is smashed.
“I’m so glad you care about those more than my face,” I joke. Her eyes grow to perfect circles and before she apologizes I quickly add, “I… I was kidding.”
Her face relaxes. “Now you’re teasing me? What has this play done to you?” She pretends to punch my gut and I flinch inward, both of us laughing.
She tugs me by the arm over to the far side of the courtyard and we slide along the brick wall to the cement. The bag opens in her hands with a pop and she offers me the first handful.
“So…” she starts, sorting through her pretzels, “you ever kissed someone before?”
I snort and a pretzel gets wedged in my esophagus. After a big coughing fit and one good smack on the back from Kate, I finally croak out, “Uh…what?”
“You know, kissed someone? Lips on lips, pucker up, smooch kind of thing?”
Am I that obvious? Did it look like I didn’t know what I was doing? Do my lips scream “Inexperience!” at the highest volume possible?
She laughs at whatever expression I’m giving her. Laughs so hard it kind of hurts. Great. I knew I was lame, quiet, socially inept…but I’d hoped Kate didn’t think those things.
I shift my legs so I can get up and leave. Maybe bolt to the band room and let my cello solve everything like it always does. Even if it can’t erase the fact I have to have my first kiss in front of a crowd of parents, teachers, students…
If I’m going to kiss Kate, which, yeah…I admit, I sort of want to…I don’t want it to be because we have to.
“Hey,” Kate says, pulling me back down. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you. I haven’t really kissed anyone either.”
I settle back into my spot on the ground. “What do you mean?”
She shrugs, a smile still brimming on her lips. That right dimple near the corner twitches.
“The kisses I’ve had, I don’t think they count. Most have been stage kisses.”
“Most?” I prod. I think she’s shocked me out of rational thought. Kate Ryan hasn’t been kissed?
“I played spin the bottle once in eighth grade. Landed on Duke Solomon.”
“Duke Solomon? Isn’t he gay?” I grin, trying not to make it a full smile. But I can’t help it. According to the stage kisses and that one spin the bottle kiss, Kate’s only been kissed by three different people, and it wasn’t like they meant anything. This shouldn’t make me happy, but it does.
“Yeah. Poor guy was so nervous he kind of missed my mouth. Only got me right here.” She puts her finger on the very corner of my lips and I startle back.
“Uh, yeah…guess that wouldn’t count.”
She nods. “He told me thanks later for not calling him out on it. Then he told me he was into guys, and I promised not to say anything else about it, you know, till he was ready.”
Something rushes through me, making my hands shake and heart beat way too fast. I slide closer to her, not knowing why or what I’m doing. With my twitchy fingers I squeeze hers. “You’re a good person, you know that, right?” I say.
Her cheeks go pink, but maybe that’s still the stage makeup. She bumps my shoulder and stares at the bag of pretzels. “Yeah, yeah.” She pauses and I take my hand off hers. Then I find some air to breathe. “So,
your turn,” she says, handing me more pretzels.
“My turn?”
“Yeah. You still haven’t answered me.”
Oh right. “No. I haven’t kissed anyone.”
“Is that why you’re crazy nervous?”
Partly. “Yes.”
“Well, I’m here to tell you stage kisses are nothing. Really, it’s like kissing someone on the cheek. Quick peck and you’re done.”
Not when it’s Kate I have to kiss. Just looking at those lips makes me afraid if I touch them even just a little bit, I won’t be able to stop. And as that thought hits me, a twist knots up all my insides into one big mess I can’t calculate my way out of.
I don’t like touching anyone, but I want to touch her.
“So, Wendy and Ben…?”
A laugh floats from her mouth and her hip hits mine. “Those are definitely not stage kisses.”
The tension in my chest releases some, but not all the way. “So, just a quick peck?”
“Like three seconds.”
One one-thousand, two one-thousand… “That’s not quick,” I argue, turning my eyes on hers and smiling. Whoa, she’s really close.
She sighs. “Yes it is. Let me show you.”
I pull back like she asked if she could give me a painful shot. Automatic response. She laughs because she’s Kate, who handles every situation like she’s in her element.
“Not on the lips, Mr. Paranoid.”
I freeze as she inches toward me. Not on the lips? Then where? What’s happening? She’s getting closer and I can’t move. Why does she want to get closer? Can she hear the sweat dripping out of every pore? Can she see the panic spreading throughout my brain? Can she feel my heart thumping her in the face?
Her lips land right on my cheekbone. She presses them hard enough for me to feel every part of the thin skin that covers them, but soft enough that I’m not forced backward from the pressure. It’s not wet or juicy or slippery. Just stuck there, and every nerve in my body zooms to where her lips are. My tingling, heated cheek is the only thing that exists right now.
She pulls away and for some idiotic reason I want to grab her chin and force her lips against my skin again. I don’t because my bones have turned to jelly, but the muscle surrounding them has turned into rock hard cement, making me unable to move at all.
“See? Three seconds. Not that long, right?” She’s smiling as she sits back and pops another pretzel in her mouth.
Was that three seconds? Because I was not paying attention. Where is my logical brain? He would’ve counted. Nonsensical brain made me think many bizarre things. Like how her perfect lips aren’t juicy.
“Uh, Seth?” Her eyes give me a once-over, and I have yet to move. “You okay there?”
“Yeahhummum.”
She throws her head back and laughs, and finally, half a year later, I break the statue spell and laugh with her.
“You’ll be fine, trust me,” she says, placing more pretzels in my hands. “You’re always nervous about these things, but I’m still thinking you’re some kind of robot that’s good at everything you do.”
I laugh, the last bit of tension in my chest leaving. Yeah, let’s just hope kissing is part of my programming.
Crap, crap, crap.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” I yell as I run through the halls of the school. The people mingling outside the auditorium turn to get out of the crazy girl’s way.
“Hey, Kate!”
“Break a leg, girl!”
“Aren’t you supposed to be upstairs?”
“Yes!” I twist to smile at all of them. “Thanks! See you all in a few! Hope you enjoy the show!”
I take the stairs two at a time, scoot around the corner, and hit the brakes when I reach the makeshift area being used as the costume room.
“Sorry, I’m late.” I huff, bent over and using the doorframe for support. I told Ms. Berry that planning my fittings—even if they were “small things” —for the night of the first performance was a horrible idea. She insisted we’d have enough time.
There’s never enough time.
“Kate! Jeez, child.” Her big eyes look at the clock on the wall. “The performance starts in thirty minutes. We don’t have time for this.”
I keep myself from rolling my eyes. She volunteers as the costume coordinator and her daughter, Bridget—yay, Kate, you remembered—is super nice.
We’ve got to figure something out, though, because right now I’ll look like a huge pink cupcake if I wear the dress the way it currently fits. My eyes shift through the mess that is the costume room. There’s got to be something in this place we can use.
“Here.” I take two leaps across the space and grab a long white scarf. Holding it up, I say, “If we just tie this around my waist, it will pull everything in and still look time-period appropriate, right?”
Ms. Berry has a needle in her mouth. She tweaks her head to the corner of the room where my dress rests. I sprint over and strip right there. It’s like a bathing suit, right?
When I turn around with the dress on, scarf wrapped around my torso, Ms. Berry’s eyes are so large I can’t help but laugh.
“Looks okay?” I manage through my giggles.
She does this sort of eye-roll, head-nod thing, so I think I’m good to go.
“Awesome. Thanks, Ms. Berry!” I rip my two other costumes off their hangers and head to the dressing room. I apply a horrendous amount of makeup—my face has gotta be seen from the back of the auditorium. The hair will have to wait until after it dries.
I sprint to the library where everyone is practicing their dance moves, lines, and song lyrics. There’s this tension and excitement you can’t find anywhere else other than opening night. My skin goose-bumps with the knowledge of what we’re about to do. Rehearsal went super well the last two days; we are so ready for this.
Even Seth got over his stage jitters. Or at least he managed to tuck them away. The only thing we never got to practice was that kiss, but it’s easy. He’ll be so in the moment it’ll be over before he knows it.
Speaking of, where is that boy?
I jump up on one of the tables, a big no-no. But no one is paying attention, and I spot that shaggy brown hair. He’s talking to someone else. Or perhaps a better description would be he’s dancing with someone else. A guy.
After a few short conversations with other cast members I finally make it over to Seth and…Nick.
“Hey, guys!” I say, beaming at both of them. “How’s it going? You ready?” The last part is directed at Seth.
“Y-Yeah,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his legs. He looks super nervous.
“You’re gonna do great, man, really.” Nick taps him on the shoulder and turns to look at me. “Really wish it was me layin’ one on ya but, you know.” He shrugs. “What ya gonna do?”
I squeeze his arm. “Perhaps some day, Nick.” I laugh, and he gives me a fake half-laugh in return. Maybe he’s still not feeling well after his tonsil surgery.
“Well, knock em’ dead, you two. I’ll be in the audience clapping. Since I really can’t yell.”
My lip pouts as I watch him walk away. I feel bad for the guy. He’s an okay actor, though he can’t dance for crap.
“Why were you asking Nick for help with dance moves?” I ask Seth. He's running his hand through his hair and holding his cowboy hat in his other hand. He really does make a great cowboy in those tight jeans and plaid shirt. It’s those toned legs that I knew about before the rest of the cast got to see them. My eyes snap shut and I inwardly scold myself for thinking about that horrible night and my having to grab his keys and cell out of his pockets.
“I didn’t ask for help. He came up and offered it.”
I tilt my head, trying to remember what we were talking about. Oh yeah, dance lessons. I snort. “Nick offered to help you with your dance moves?”
“Yeah.” Seth stops smoothing his hair and actually thinks about that. A second later, he snorts and starts laughing, to
o.
“Glad to see you’re having a good time, Seth.” Mr. Steiman stands next to the two of us, clipboard in hand. He looks me up and down. “Did you come straight from a basketball game?”
I nod once, running my hand through my wet hair. It’s more damp than wet now. There’s a hair dryer in the dressing room that will take care of it. “Yup.” My eyes go to Seth, who’s going to be standing next to me for much of the musical. I hope he appreciates my one-minute shower.
Mr. Steiman passes his hand down his face. “Well, all right then. Seth?”
Seth’s eyes move from me to Mr. Steiman.
“You are going to kiss Kate, right? Make it look like she doesn’t have germs?”
Seth nods, his gaze back on the floor.
“I mean, geez, son. If you’re going to be forced to kiss anyone, it might as well be Kate.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Seth asks, his eyebrows scrunched together and his face super red.
“I’m just saying, Kate is a normal person. A good…student. Good person…” Mr. Steiman shifts his feet; clearly this conversation is not going how he planned. “Just make it look natural, all right? Keep the audience in the moment.”
Seth and I nod and watch Mr. Steiman leave in our peripheral vision.
“At least you get to kiss someone normal,” I say, which causes a small smile to form on Seth’s lips. “Whatever that means… You’re going to do great, buddy. Three seconds, remember.” I wrap my arm around his shoulder and lead him to the middle of the room where the rest of the cast is convening.
“Kate! Kate!” I hear my name and look around. My family’s at the library entrance, and Mom is waving like a crazy woman and the whole cast is looking. I should go over there before the poor woman breaks something. Dad looks as embarrassed as my sisters do by the time I get over there, the voices of my castmates warming up behind me.
“What’s up, guys?” I ask.
“Just wanted to wish you good luck,” Mom gushes. She nudges Dad in the shoulder and he presents me with a rose from the fundraiser downstairs.
“Aw, thanks guys.” I lean close to mom and explain to her, “Technically saying ‘good luck’ in the theater is bad luck. That’s why they use the term ‘break a leg’.”
