Sweet Sorrow

by Tricia Drammeh

  When we’re finished with our audition, Mr. Fredericks dismisses us. Eddie’s hand rests lightly on the small of my back as he follows me down the steps. Electricity shoots from my back to my toes. I’ve never reacted that way to anyone’s touch. It’s disconcerting, disturbing, sensual. I want to spin around and act out the kissing scene right now, but I keep walking until I’m back in my seat.

  “Oh. My. God,” Morgan whispers. “You were so freaking amazing.”

  “Thanks. I was so nervous.”

  We’re finally free to go. Mr. Fredericks promises to post the cast list on the auditorium doors in the morning. Morgan is my ride home, so I have no choice but to stand around while she chats with our friends. My eyes are riveted on Eddie’s lone figure as he walks out of the theatre. I yearn to follow him, hoping he’ll want to rehash our joint audition, but I know that’s silly and stupid, so I stay rooted to the spot while my heart follows Eddie wherever he goes.

  Chapter Five

  My mom has always loved the theatre, but she was too shy to perform in high school or college. Each time she worked up the courage to sign up for auditions, she backed out at the last minute and decided to work behind the scenes instead. It’s something she’s always regretted. Sometimes, I feel like she’s living through me. Though it’s nice to have her in my corner, she is often disappointed when I concede to Morgan, the more talented of the two of us.

  “Why do you think you’ll only make understudy?” Mom asks.

  “Can you pour me another glass of iced tea?” Dad cuts in, interrupting our boring theatre discussion.

  “Only understudy? Mom, it’s for the part of Juliet. If I can understudy… Oh my God, I’ll just die.”

  “But, Honey, I can’t understand why you don’t think you’ll get the part. Maybe Morgan will be your understudy.”

  I roll my eyes and scoff, “Yeah, right. Mom, you should have seen her and Blake. They were amazing together.”

  “I’m sure you were pretty amazing too.”

  My mind drifts back to the auditorium and the stage and Eddie standing before me, his hulking football-player build towering over me, making me feel tiny.

  “Tell me about…”

  Dad cut her off again. “Do we have any of that hot sauce left? You know, the bottle Ike sent me from Texas?”

  “Sure.” She puts her fork down and immediately rises to do his bidding. It’s easier to do stuff for Dad than it is to try to explain where things are. Maybe he does that on purpose—pretends not to know where things are located in his own home so he won’t have to do anything for himself.

  “You know, Mark came by my office today.”

  I choke on my bite of meatloaf, and when I reach out to grab my glass of tea, I almost knock it over. Tea sloshes over the rim of the glass and all over my hand. Dad doesn’t notice, but Mom dabs at the mess with a napkin.

  “He wanted to know if I had a copy of that letter of recommendation I wrote for him earlier this year,” Dad says casually. “He asked how you were doing, Row.”

  Mark, my ex-boyfriend, played football for my dad but got hurt halfway through the season. He was being heavily recruited by college baseball teams all over the country, so rather than risk further injury by playing football, he sat on the bench the last two months of the season. Dad had always liked Mark, but agreed with him that his real talent was in baseball. “It’s a shame,” Dad was fond of saying. “If I’d got a hold of him a couple of years sooner, I could have made a quarterback out of that boy.”

  “I still don’t know why he asked you for a letter of recommendation. His scholarship isn’t for football.” Mom’s eyes narrow in suspicion. She never liked Mark, though she didn’t try to keep us apart when we were dating. After Mark and I broke up, Mom resumed her avid dislike toward him.

  “Why not? He played for me for almost three years. He’s a good kid.”

  “Mom, can I do the dishes later? I need to call Morgan and ask her about our history assignment before I forget.”

  “Sure, Honey.”

  I flee the kitchen as quickly as possible. I don’t want to listen to Dad drone on about how wonderful Mark is. He doesn’t know him at all. No one really does. That’s why so many people like him. Sure, Mark puts on a great act in front of everyone, but in reality, he isn’t anything like people believe he is. Maybe Mark should have been an actor instead of an athlete.

  I can’t believe he asked my dad about me. Well, yes I can. Mark probably wanted to suck up to my dad by pretending to still care about me. Or maybe he wanted to make sure I haven’t said anything about what happened between us.

  I shut my bedroom door and lock it. I grab my Ipod and stuff the earbuds in my ears, drowning out the world around me. Taylor Swift’s Fifteen is on repeat. I know I’m lame, but I don’t care right now. Homework all but forgotten, I curl up on my side, close my eyes, and fight back memories. Sometimes sleep betrays me by inviting bad thoughts to invade my vulnerable mind, but sometimes sleep brings better dreams. It’s worth the risk. Maybe I’ll dream of Eddie tonight.

  ***

  When Morgan and I arrive at school, it’s so early, the doors aren’t unlocked yet. We lurk around in the parking lot, hoping a teacher or janitor will take pity on us and let us inside. We’re bursting with excitement, desperate to read the cast list.

  “Do you think Mr. Fredericks put the list up last night?” Morgan asks.

  I sigh. “I don’t know, Mo. Why can’t Mr. Fredericks join the new millennium and post the list on a website or blog or something.”

  “You should suggest it.”

  “Won’t do any good. You know how stubborn teachers are.” Teachers are so afraid of doing something that could be perceived as inappropriate, they shun any idea that involves social media or fraternizing with students.

  A car door slams and we turn to see Mia striding toward us. Like me, Mia doesn’t have a car. Her mom drops her off, waving cheerily to the three of us before pulling away from the curb.

  “Seriously? Are we, like, locked out?” she asks, gesticulating wildly.

  Morgan glances at the time on her cell phone. “Well, the doors don’t open for another five minutes. They’d better unlock the doors on time or else.”

  Slowly, the parking lot is beginning to fill up. Mia, Morgan and I are the only ones standing right outside the door. Either we’re the only people who are desperate to see the cast list, or everyone else is playing it cool. I wonder if Eddie will make a special effort to get to school early today, or if he’ll saunter in at the last minute and have a casual look at the list as if it doesn’t matter at all.

  I also wonder if Mr. Fredericks will allow the understudies to do a full rehearsal before opening night. I’m assuming I’ve got the understudy part for Juliet. And I’m assuming Eddie’s the understudy for Romeo. Maybe it’s stupid to concoct full blown fantasies based on my assumptions, but the deed is done. I’m already fully invested in the idea of playing second string Juliet to Eddie’s Romeo.

  By the time the janitor unlocks the door, several more students have congregated. I still don’t see Eddie.

  “Let’s go,” Morgan says, grabbing my arm. She pushes her way into the building, dragging me along for the ride. We hustle to the double doors leading to the auditorium. Two letter-size sheets of paper are taped to the door.

  My eyes scan the paper, but when I find my name, it isn’t where I expect it to be. Frantically, I search, convinced there’s been a horrible mistake. Or a wonderful mistake. Next to Juliet, my name is neatly printed. Morgan is Lady Capulet, and the words “understudy—Juliet” is assigned to Morgan’s name instead of mine.

  Suddenly, I’m being spun around and hugged amidst shrieks of “Oh my God” and “Congratulations.” I worry about Morgan and whether or not she’s disappointed. The fact that my gain is her loss makes my victory bittersweet.

  I move out of the way so other cast members can read the list. Mia and I offer mutual congratulations and hugs, and when I break away from
her, I see Eddie. He’s turning away from the list and his gaze catches mine.

  “Nice job, Juliet,” he says.

  “You too,” I reply.

  Romeo, I want to say. Eddie has landed the role of Romeo. I’m Juliet. At some point we’ll kiss. My wildest dreams have come true. I just hope I can handle it.

  ***

  The day is a blur, and though I can’t think of anything but the play and my role in it, life goes on as usual. No one in our school is hugely concerned over who was cast in the leading roles in a play that won’t be performed until the end of the school year. In fact, most of the school will remain unaware the senior play even exists, even when April rolls around and posters advertising the upcoming play are plastered all over the building.

  I feel like my life has been changed forever, as if I’m on a new trajectory. But that’s ridiculous. It’s just a play. Eddie is just another actor. An actor who I happen to have a major crush on.

  All day, I worry about Morgan and how she feels about being my understudy. All through middle school and high school, it’s been the other way around. I’ve always shadowed her, played the supporting roles to her lead. Morgan seems genuinely happy for me, though I still feel awkward and uncomfortable around her.

  “For the last time, you didn’t steal the part from me,” Morgan says as we walk to the parking lot at the end of the day. “You earned it.”

  “Thanks, Mo. I was so worried you’d be upset…”

  “I am upset,” she says, stopping and turning to face me. “I’m upset that you would worry about my reaction. How did you think I’d react? Did you think I’d be jealous? After all the times you’ve rooted for me, and supported me, and helped me study my lines—how could you think I wouldn’t do the same for you?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you for a second,” I say, hugging her.

  “I’ll forgive you if you go to the mall with me.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. I need to grab a few things and I don’t want to go alone. Please?”

  “Sure. I’ll text my mom and let her know I’ll be home late.” Mom will be anxious to find out what part I got, but she won’t ask me via text. She’ll want to know all about it when I get home. I wonder what she’ll say when I tell her I’m Juliet? It isn’t hard to guess what her reaction will be—pride, excitement, happiness. Here’s what will be interesting—Dad’s reaction when he finds out the ex-football player he detests will be kissing his little girl on stage.

  ***

  Morgan and I visit the department store cosmetics counter before browsing for clothing. I don’t buy anything. Thanks to her hefty allowance, Mo walks out with makeup, a new scarf, and a blouse she’s had her eye on for a while. She decides to buy us smoothies to celebrate our fortuitous casting in the play, and I accept her generous offer.

  We’re standing in line at the food court, trying to narrow down our smoothie choices.

  “Hey, Juliet.” The voice comes from behind me. I spin around, open-mouthed with surprise when I see Eddie standing there smiling at me.

  “Eddie. Hi,” I stammer.

  “That’s Romeo to you,” he teases. His gaze shifts to Morgan and he nods. “How’s it going?”

  “Going great,” she replies.

  “So what are you two…” A sharp whistle erupts, interrupting him. He whips his head around.

  Three darkly tanned men are standing a few yards away, motioning for Eddie to join them. They seem to be in their early twenties, with short crew cuts, khaki work pants, and light blue polos. Some sort of uniforms, I’m guessing.

  Eddie puts up one finger, indicating that he’ll just be a minute. The men either don’t understand or don’t care, because within seconds, they’re standing alongside Eddie, peering at me and Morgan curiously.

  “Are these your friends from school?” the taller of the three men asks. He puts an emphasis on the word ‘friends.’

  “Morgan and Rowan,” Eddie replies. “This is my brother, Carlos.” He gestures toward the tall man. Then he points at the other two guys standing behind his brother. “Fernando and Rod.”

  Morgan and I both mumble uncomfortable hellos. I don’t know what to say. I barely know Eddie, much less his brother and friends. The guys seem anxious to leave, so Eddie begins to back away from us.

  “Okay, so I’ll see you around, Rowan,” he says. Still keeping his eyes on me, he adds, “Morgan.”

  “Well, that was interesting,” Morgan says.

  Reluctantly, I pull my attention away from Eddie’s retreating form and focus on my friend. “Yeah, I guess.”

  The couple in front of us steps aside, and it’s our turn to order. At this point, I don’t care what kind of smoothie I drink, so I just order the same thing Morgan has chosen. All I can think about is Eddie. A dozen fantasies flicker through my mind as I speculate about his reason for being at the mall. Maybe he’s there to shop for Christmas. Or maybe he’s looking for a job. What if he’s visiting a girlfriend who works in one of the shops? I hate the idea of Eddie kissing another girl, hand-delivering a sack of fast-food for her dinner break, or snuggling with her in the backseat of his brother’s car while they drive her home from work.

  “Let’s sit over here,” Morgan says, breaking into my thoughts. We sit at a table for two by the fountain. Fake poinsettias and garland decorate the seating area and instrumental holiday tunes pipe through the mall, putting shoppers in the mood to purchase more than what they’d originally intended to buy.

  “You should spend the night tonight,” Morgan says. “We have a lot to talk about.”

  “I know, but my mom is going to want to hear all about casting. I could come over after dinner.”

  “You should. We can eat snacks, watch movies, talk about Eddie…”

  “Eddie?” The word escapes my throat in a strangled gasp. Please let Morgan not have a crush on Eddie, I pray. I’ll die if she decides she wants him. I couldn’t take the part of Juliet from her, and then take Eddie too. Not that he’d want me. Any guy who had the choice between me or Morgan would be a fool not to pick her. Guys barely look at me when Morgan’s around.

  “Yeah,” she continues. “We need to talk about the play. I love the idea of Eddie as Romeo. I thought he did a better job than Blake. Obviously, Mr. Fredericks thought the same thing since he gave Eddie the part.”

  “Right. Yeah. I’m sure he’ll do a great job,” I say, relieved she’s only thinking about Eddie in terms of his talent on stage.

  “Do you think he’s a good kisser?” she asks.

  My face turns red and my heart starts racing. “What?”

  “You’ll get to kiss him. Several times. Rehearsals, performances… Do you think he’ll be a good kisser?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He’s sort of sexy.”

  I can’t reply. I don’t know what to say. He’s mine. Stay away from him. Seriously, what could I possibly say without revealing my feelings for him?

  “And he’s totally into you,” Morgan says, smiling.

  I glance around the food court, suddenly nervous that Eddie and his entourage will leap out from behind a cluster of poinsettias. “No he’s not,” I say, secretly hoping Morgan is right.

  “Oh, come on. He kept staring at you and barely looked at me. If it wasn’t for his brothers or whoever those guys were, he would have stuck around and talked to you. He likes you.”

  All pretense of detachment is gone as a goofy grin splits my face in two. For a wannabe actress, I certainly haven’t mastered the art of masking my emotions. “Really? Do you think so?”

  “Yes. He totally likes you. He’s cute, in a bad boy sort of way. He’s the complete opposite of Mark.”

  I know what Morgan means—in terms of physical appearance, Eddie is the opposite of Mark. Eddie’s skin is naturally tanned, and with his black hair and brown eyes, he’s the opposite of blond, blue-eyed Mark. I hope Eddie is the opposite of Mark in every way possible. I want to shift
the subject away from Mark without distracting Morgan from talking about Eddie. I need to talk about Eddie the same way I really, really need to not talk about Mark.

  “What did you think of those guys he was with?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. The tall one that Eddie introduced as his brother seemed to be pretty bossy.”

  “Eddie called him Carlos. Yeah, you’re right. He seemed sort of bossy.” Actually, Carlos seemed like he didn’t want Eddie talking to me and Morgan. Maybe they were in a hurry. Or maybe Carlos didn’t like us. The way he looked at me with cold, assessing eyes made me think he didn’t like Eddie talking to us at all. It was weird.

  Morgan chatters about the upcoming Christmas break, but I’m having a hard time focusing. All I can think about is Eddie. Part of me wants to go home, listen to music, and think about him. But I’ve already cancelled plans with Morgan so many times in the past, it’s a wonder she’s still my friend.

  No. I can’t bail on Morgan again. Besides, it might be fun to sit up all night long, watching bad movies and talking about boys—particularly Eddie. We haven’t had a girls’ night in a while, not since before summer vacation. Not since the nightmares started.

  Morgan is looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to respond, but I have no idea what she’d just said. “What?” I ask.

  “I asked if you wanted me to pick up anything from the store. Do you want any special snacks or drinks for tonight?”

  “Yeah. Some sort of energy drink.”

  “Good idea,” she says, gathering her bags and standing up. “We haven’t had a sleepover in forever. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. No sleep for us tonight.”

  No sleep, no nightmares. Works for me.

  Chapter Six

  When I get home, both my parents’ cars are in the driveway. The smell of chicken and rice permeates the air the moment I step inside. “Hi, Row,” Mom says, taking a casserole out of the oven. “Dinner’s ready. Have a seat.”