Dream Chaser

by Angie Stanton

  Tyson tried to keep a straight face, and bit the inside of his cheek again. “You kiss.”

  Eli and I looked at each other, then snapped our heads away at whiplash speed.

  “That’s it. You kiss. The dance ends with a kiss.” He looked from one of us to the other and chewed on his cheek again.

  Oh shit. I didn’t think anything could possibly be worse than falling over not one, but two guys, discussing my weight or being forced to feel up my former best friend’s biceps? But a kiss!

  A huge silence filled the theatre. Bigger than an elephant in the room. Bigger than a monster truck. Kind of like if a giant shark tank from Sea World sat on the stage between us.

  The only time Eli and I had ever kissed was the day I quit dance and pushed him out of my life.

  Not good. I sighed. But this was theatre. It wasn’t real life. So we had to do a stage kiss. Awkward, but it meant nothing. If Eli could man up to plant one on me, I could meet him halfway.

  “No problem,” Eli said, as if he’d only been asked to do a triple time step, but his jaw was set and his arms were crossed tight over what I now knew were rock hard pecs.

  Shit. He better not even think about tongue action!

  “Great. Then let’s get on with it,” Tyson said, still grinning.

  Now? Didn’t I get a chance to shower and brush my teeth first? Or at least get some gum.

  “You just finished your last move. Eli, take her face gently in your hands, lean in and kiss her.” Tyson said it like he had just asked us to shake hands.

  We looked at each other, both pretending it was no big deal, but clearly neither of us was hyped about the kiss.

  “Any time now.” Tyson chimed.

  Eli shot him an evil look and then turned back to me. I pretended I didn’t have a care in the world and avoided meeting Eli’s eye as long as possible.

  He stepped closer, bursting my personal space bubble. He took a bracing breath, slid one hand past my neck. Eli’s fingers splayed through my hair and cupped my jawline. His other hand brushed past my chin, and his thumb touched my cheek. He held me. Our eyes met.

  Holy crap!

  Then he pulled away.

  I didn’t know if I should be relieved or mad.

  Tyson broke into laughter.

  “What’s so damn funny,” Eli demanded.

  “I’m sorry, that’s not fair. It’s just that I remember my first stage kiss, and it was horrible, so I know what you guys are going through. I’ve waited a long time to watch someone else suffer like I did.”

  I shifted from one leg to the other. Let’s hurry up and get this thing done! What was I supposed to do? Tell Eli to man up or I’d plant one on him myself?

  “Come on, let’s just get it over with,” Eli said.

  “Fine,” I snapped.

  Before Tyson could intervene with more snarky commentary, Eli came at me like a missile on a target. I squeezed my eyes shut and we did it.

  Yup.

  Way awkward.

  Eli’s lips were tight and flat, and mine were, too. We just sort of pushed our mouths together and called it a day. Nothing soft, nothing pleasant about it.

  When we were done mooshing our faces, I looked away, afraid to see the disappointment in Eli’s eyes. It was the world’s worst kiss. I haven’t kissed much, but I’m pretty sure this one was the most horrible kiss on record. Does MTV give out worst kiss awards? It was like when I was in middle school kissing my arm for practice.

  Tyson burst out laughing, which really added a nice touch to the moment. “You guys suck! I mean really suck!”

  I crossed my arms, but really wanted to curl up in the fetal position under a blanket. We were trying to be civil with each other and that kiss was so embarrassing. But if we were going to stay mad at each other, that made it all the more embarrassing.

  I don’t know what Eli thought, because I refused to look his direction. What happened to his first try? I would have liked to know how that one felt. He appeared to have the goods to deliver a hot kiss, but what I got sure sucked. Not that I wanted a hot kiss from him. I didn’t know what I wanted from him. Yes I did. I wanted friendship.

  “I’m sorry. But you guys crack me up. Have I told you two how much fun I’m having working with you?”

  “Yeah, we’re totally feeling the love,” Eli muttered.

  “Okay, seriously. Nice try.” He chuckled. “No. Actually that was terrible, but at least you put it out there. You get points for that. If you want to be serious performers, you need to reveal your vulnerable sides. The audience can tell if you’re just going through the motions or if you really mean it.”

  “Listen up, here’s the best advice I can give you. Jump in the backseat of Eli’s car sometime and practice. That way no one’s watching and it’s just the two of you. You can figure out whose nose goes this way and whose head goes that way. Have a couple of beers and go at it.”

  We stared at him like he was growing a horn from his forehead.

  “Scratch that. I keep forgetting how old you are. No beer. Making out, okay. Beer, not okay.”

  I swallowed. Eli shook his head toward the floor with a smirk. “Tyson, you are insane.”

  “It’s a tried and true method. What can I say?” Tyson said. “Some very enjoyable moments as I recall.”

  Eli looked at me with his hands tucked deep in his front pockets. “What do you think?”

  I swallowed again. Alone with Eli. With our sole purpose to be locking lips. Déjà vu. My eyes darted from Eli to Tyson and back again.

  “Um. I have a voice lesson. I have to go.” And I all but ran from the theatre. What a chicken. I drove across town to skip around the room and breathe properly for Gloria, but all I could think about was figuring out how to kiss Eli.

  Chapter 16

  Since Capitol High got out a little after three, I always showed up early to practice. I still needed to do everything possible to catch up.

  Eli showed up early today too, but kept his distance.

  “Hey guys, let’s work your duets while we’re waiting for everyone else,” Tyson said from behind the piano.

  I can’t tell you how much I didn’t want to sing that duet. It’s like my stomach dropped out of my body. I’d only had two voice lessons so far. I didn’t even know the song yet.

  Eli stepped up to the piano, biting back a smirk, he glanced up past his blonde bangs with one of those, ‘this oughta be good’ expressions. I guess he was still annoyed I ran out yesterday. Plus, despite our years apart he knew me well. Singing wasn’t my thing. Dance, yes. Singing, no. In choir, I’d be one of the last people Ms. Fuller would give a solo to. Ever. Gloria keeps telling me I have a voice the size of a lion, but that I’m using it like a kitten. Whatever that means.

  So here’s the thing about Eli. He’s really talented. I mean, like, amazing. He doesn’t just dance, but he sings and acts too. He’s been doing it since he was little. You name a show, and he’s probably been in it. And the way he sings is just not fair. It’s like he was born with these amazing pipes. And he knows it.

  He also knows that I don’t love to sing. Well, that’s not true. I love to sing, but alone in the shower. Is there stage fright for singing? I have it. Choir is fine. I’m with sixty other people, but God forbid if someone could actually pick my voice out of a crowd.

  I grabbed my music and lay it open on the piano. Tyson played the intro. He gave me a reassuring smile, then nodded to Eli for his entrance. Eli sang the first verse, his voice strong and pure like the deep water of a dark lake. I swear he was ten times better than the last time I heard him. It was eighth grade and his voice teacher had a concert of all her students. Eli sang last and brought down the house.

  Crap. The next verse was mine. Well, sink or swim. Tyson gave me my cue, and still I was late. I sang the lines, and I was mostly on key, but it sounded breathy and weak. I wanted to crawl under the piano.

  But Tyson smiled, the poor man, stuck with me pretending to be a singer. Eli, on th
e other hand, didn’t hide his feelings. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. After that, I didn’t look at him.

  The third verse we sang together. It’s hard to sing and stay on beat with someone else when you don’t look at them, but I just wanted it over. Eli brought out the big guns and showed off his beautiful baritone vibrato. Like we didn’t already know. I swear the stronger he sang, the worse I sang.

  “Good job, guys. Let’s run it again, this time just the third verse. Willow, I need more from you. Get your gut behind it and give me some volume.”

  I knew Tyson must be disappointed, or more likely, panicked. Maybe he should recast the lead again.

  We sang it again. Tyson watched me and nodded a lot in a vain effort to make me feel I was okay. The whole time I felt Eli’s eyes bore into me. The rest of the cast started showing up, but Tyson still made us run it a couple more times. Instead of getting more comfortable, I was mortified as other cast members watched. They didn’t even whisper to each other, they just stared at me as my voice came out breathy and flat. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me, because there was no way to get out of this situation with dignity.

  When we finished, my face was hot with humiliation. I closed my music and focused on a stain on the carpeting.

  “Tyson,” Eli whispered. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

  Gee, Eli, thanks. What a slap in the face.

  “It’ll come. Willow, just keep up on your voice lessons, and you’ll do fine,” Tyson said.

  I nodded, avoiding eye contact.

  Tyson stood and walked away from the piano. “Five minutes and I want everyone on stage for warm ups.”

  “Unbelievable,” Eli muttered.

  My jaw quivered and my eyes welled up. I dumped my music with my stuff and hightailed to the back stage area where I could escape for a minute without an audience to ridicule me.

  I hated feeling sorry for myself, but sometimes it’s just too hard not to. I went past the curtain lines and sat out of sight against the cement wall of the theatre. I tried not to cry, but my teeth started to chatter like one of those wind-up toys. I huffed a few big shaky breaths to keep the tears at bay.

  What did I get myself into? I heard the others find spots on stage. I huddled further in my dark corner as a big warm tear rolled down my face. I stared up into the dark of the rafters far above the stage, wishing I could escape and go home. Another teardrop slid down my face. As I brushed it away with my arm, I saw Eli standing about twenty feet away, watching, his expression unreadable.

  We looked at each other across the space; that twenty feet could have been twenty miles. I clamped my jaw shut and wiped my face with my arm. Eli turned and walked the other way.

  Chapter 17

  After a couple minutes, I pulled myself together and joined the others. At least we were working on dance, and dance was something I could do.

  Unless, of course, I didn’t know the steps yet, and everyone else did.

  I was soon ready to strangle Chloe. If she “tsked” one more time, whispered behind my back, or commented that I was a half beat off, I was going to deck her! The rest of the cast wasn’t much better. They huddled in their little clusters and whispered. I was still an outsider.

  I tried to silence them with a few well-placed glares, but it didn’t help.

  We ran the number again. Honest to God, I tried, but it didn’t show. I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I’d only worked on this number once before, and they’d had it for three weeks. The stress of singing, crying, and knowing I was the outcast kept me from pulling my shit together.

  “Cut. Start again, please,” Tyson called from his post near the piano apparently unaware of the cast of bullies.

  The rehearsal accompanist played the intro once again. I went back to my starting position, which, of course, was front and center. We started, and things went pretty well for about twelve bars. Then my mind went fuzzy on what came next. Passé, contract, chassé, attitude, step, pencil turn, coupé left. No, right!

  Shit.

  “Cut!” Tyson yelled.

  Eli aimed an irritated look my direction.

  “Oh my God, why the hell is she even here? She doesn’t know a coupé from a jeté,” one complained.

  “I bet Tyson wishes he never cast her,” said another.

  “She sucks.”

  “Did you hear her sing? She can’t carry a tune.”

  “I heard they’re sending her to voice lessons, but she’s so bad the teacher quit.”

  “When is he going to kick her out?”

  I refused to look and give the tormenting bastards the satisfaction of seeing my agony. Inside I seethed. Not like a teapot on the stove, but more like a commercial sized pressure cooker where the lid is clamped on and it’s building up power. That was me. Trapped in a pressure cooker with no place to vent.

  “Tyson?” Chloe said, “How many more times do we have to run this for her? Aren’t we falling way behind?”

  Outraged and humiliated, my body shook with anger. I clenched my jaw and bit back my venomous thoughts. If I spoke my mind, it would be a horrible display I knew I’d regret.

  “Take five,” Tyson said, distracted. Eli joined Tyson at the table.

  “How’d she get the part anyway? She can’t sing, and she’s messing up all the dances,” one of the girls said.

  “I heard she fucked Tyson,” Chloe announced.

  I spun around and pierced Chloe with a glare so strong it should have melted the thick makeup off her zits. My hands fisted at my side, that pressure cooker reaching explosion level.

  “What?” she acted all innocent. Some gasped at her nerve.

  Instead of slamming my fist in her face and gouging her eyes like I wanted to, I gave up. Enough already. I could take no more. So I marched my lousy dancer self down the steps. Tyson and Eli glanced up, like something important just happened and they’d missed it.

  Someone’s water bottle lay on the floor. I kicked it so hard it slammed against an auditorium seat, split and sprayed water.

  “Where are you going?” Tyson asked.

  “Outside.” I kept walking.

  “Why?” he asked, confused.

  “I’m gonna try to get run over by a car.” I stormed past.

  “She’s kidding, right?” Tyson turned to Eli.

  “Bye bye,” someone on stage said. The peanut gallery on stage snickered.

  Assholes.

  The air in the auditorium suffocated me. I needed to escape its smothering effects, so I shoved through the doors to the hallway that led to the parking lot. Halfway down the hall, who should I run into but the whole damn cheer squad.

  “Hey guys, look who’s here. It’s twinkle toes the dancer,” Marcus said stepping in my path.

  “What’s wrong, Willow, you look upset. Isn’t the ballerina thing working out?” Rick taunted. Jilly jabbed him in the ribs. Marcus blocked my way, so I bulldozed by.

  Screw ‘em.

  I knew they were still ticked that I quit cheer, but grow up already and get over it!

  I slammed out of the school, walked through the parking lot and just kept going. I didn’t know where, but I had to get away from everyone and all their shit. I aimed for the lake and stormed that direction. After crossing the road, and trudging through snow, I found a bench that overlooked frozen Lake Monona. Numb with rage, I sat. I didn’t know how to cope anymore. Everything was going wrong. I’d given it every ounce of effort I had, and it wasn’t working. What more could I do? No one was happy. Not Eli, not Jilly, not the cast, not the director, and certainly not me.

  I don’t know how long I stared out at the winter night, trying to swallow down the pain. Lights twinkled from homes across the lake. I gazed transfixed at their starry glow and glazed over.

  “Willow!” It sounded faraway and muffled, like it was coming from underwater.

  “Willow!” Louder this time.

  I snapped out of my trance-like-state enough to glance back and s
py Eli in his Jeep at the side of the road. What the hell did he want? I ignored him.

  A minute later, he trudged up, hands deep in his coat pockets, his breath coming out in white frosty puffs.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Escaping hell. Why are you here?”

  “I was driving around trying to find you. Someone said you walked outside. Come on, let’s go. It’s freezing out here.” He bounced up and down to stay warm. “Aren’t you cold?”

  “No. Actually I don’t feel anything.”

  And I really didn’t. Even though I wore only a t-shirt and dance pants and sat on a frozen bench surrounded by snow.

  Eli sat down next to me. “Ignore them, they’re just pissed you got the lead. They’ll get over it.”

  This was the most Eli had talked to me since the show started. “Yeah, when pigs fly.”

  “It’s not so bad. You can take it.”

  I looked at him. “They hate me! The cast hates me! The cheer squad hates me. And you. Well you barely tolerate me.” He had the decency to look guilty as charged. “When did you turn into such a jerk? And by the way, I never asked for the lead. I never wanted the lead. A measly little part in the chorus is all I wanted.”

  “Then why did you take it?” he asked.

  “Have you ever tried saying no to Tyson?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well I did, and see how it turned out.”

  “So you took the lead; now stop being such a baby.” He stood up. “Come get in the Jeep and I’ll take you back. If you sit out here much longer, your toes will freeze off and then you really won’t be able to dance. Or do you plan on quitting this too?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Eli knew how to hit low and hard. “No thanks. I’d rather walk.” I got up and stomped away.

  “In that case I’ll give you a head start so I can run you over.”

  I couldn’t help it. I cracked a smile.

  “I saw that. You almost laughed,” he called after me.

  So I flipped him off, and it felt really good. But then he made a point of following me the whole way back, which made me want to slash his tires. By the time I got back into the school, my anger had cooled off enough to realize I really was cold.