Dream Chaser

by Angie Stanton

  A loud squeal erupted across the hall by the aud doors. Rick and I looked over. Mike, from the show, carried McKenna piggyback.

  After the group passed, I saw Eli. He stood watching me with Rick. To Eli, I’m sure it looked like Rick and I were all cozy.

  “You’d rather be with them than us,” Rick said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “No, it’s not like that.” And it wasn’t.

  He glanced around and then leaned his round face close to my ear. “Listen, I’m really sorry I screwed up your catch, but Jilly is still pissed and there’s nothing I can do about that. I gotta go.” He pushed away from the wall.

  So there it was. Rejected again.

  “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Sure. Whatever.” He shrugged and ambled away.

  I looked up and noticed Eli was gone. The wide hallway now void of people other than the night janitor. And me.

  Alone again.

  Chapter 20

  “It’s time to bring your performance emotions to the next level,” Tyson explained. Today he wore his hip hugging jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that stretched nicely over his toned upper body. It doesn’t matter if he’s gay or not, he’s damn fine to look at!

  “You can be technically perfect and still deliver a flat performance. I want you both to think about what it is you want to accomplish in each song, lyric, and dance. The way you deliver each line or dance move needs to show that goal.”

  When Tyson explains things he becomes so animated. It’s easy to see how passionate he is about theatre.

  “Find a personal experience that fits the arc of the story you are telling. In this case, a dance. Know where the shifts in the story are, and change the tone of your performance each time you reach one.” He swung his hands in the air as he spoke.

  Eli and I soaked in every word of his sage advice while still managing to mostly ignore each other.

  “This dance is about the love of these characters, Zach and Lauren, the challenges they face and how they are going to deal with it. Can they overcome their problems? They want to be together, but Zach’s constant paranoia about Lauren’s safety is threatening to ruin it all.”

  “Willow, Lauren wants to love Zach, but he’s making it so difficult. Her heart is his, but she is losing patience and trust in him. The first beat is love and friendship, than it changes to frustration. The next beat is anger, and the dance grows aggressive. Finally, Lauren gives up and surrenders to him, but she has mixed feelings about their future.” Tyson’s voice grew soft and his eyes worried for the characters he had created.

  “Try to think of a time in your life where you’ve felt these types of emotions. It can be a different experience for each beat.”

  Fear is the only thing I could think of. Fear of falling. Fear of Twinkie’s seizures getting worse. Fear of singing in front of people.

  And regret. I had plenty of that too! Regret that I hurt Eli three years ago. Regret that I was too gutless to try to crack through his steely defenses and talk about it. Regret that I hurt Jilly’s feelings.

  Pretty sad state to be in. Not much romantic love for me to draw from. Just fear and regret.

  “What if I can’t think of any?” I asked risking embarrassment.

  “If nothing comes to mind, make something up that you can relate to,” Tyson said. “For example, let’s pretend the dance is about a juice box.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Eli. “Okay, we’re dancing juice boxes.”

  “No,” Tyson laughed. “Think of it this way. First beat. You are thirsty. So desperately thirsty that you can barely breathe.”

  Eli looked at him like he’d lost his mind. I had to agree.

  “Second beat. You want a juice box. More than anything in the world, you need a juice box! Nothing else matters. If you don’t find a juice box you might die. It’s all-out panic.” Tyson swung his hands as he spoke wide eyed. I almost believed he wanted a juice box. If only I had one to offer.

  “Third beat. There’s a juice box! You are saved! You will live! How do you feel? Elated? Ecstatic? I would think so. You drink the juice box. It is the most wonderful thing you’ve ever tasted; like nector of the gods. Show it. Final beat. You are satisfied; your thirst is quenched. Are you spent? Happy? Maybe even euphoric? If you believe it, the audience will too,” he said.

  “Do you follow me?”

  “Sort of.” But I wasn’t sure that I really did. I studied Eli and thought about what Tyson said.

  “She’s looking at me like I’m a juice box,” Eli said. “Not sure if I really care for that motivation.

  Tyson gave us his megawatt smile. “You can use any situation that speaks to you to deliver this technique. It could be studying for a big exam. Panic about the exam. Taking the exam. Relief that it’s over. Or maybe it’s defeat because you know you failed.”

  “I can relate to that.” I thought about my pathetic grades in History and Foods.

  Frustration and anger are pretty obvious. All I have to do is think about last week when Chloe and half the cast were such assholes, and I stormed out of rehearsal. That’s probably the most intense I’ve felt in my life.

  “That’s good,” Tyson said. “The more real and honest the topic is for you, the more it will be true as you deliver your song or dance. Your audience will be captivated and compelled. When you dig in deep like this, you will elicit an authentic reaction from your partner.”

  He turned to Eli. “For Zach, the first beat is his complete and all-consuming love for Lauren.”

  Eli glanced my direction and huffed. It would take a Tony-winning performance for Eli to sell that one.

  “Then Zach becomes over protective, obsessed with Lauren’s safety,” Tyson explained.

  Eli shifted on his feet, and I knew how much he hated that he had to act this way with me.

  “As Lauren grows frustrated, Zach deflects her anger and sidesteps her attacks with a steely determination to protect his true love. The final beat is his overwhelming relief that he has kept her safe. Got that?” Tyson said.

  “Yeah, I think so.” Eli nodded.

  “Great, let’s start this dance from the top, and I want you each to think of an experience where you’ve loved something more than anything. More than life itself. Something that brought you so much joy you could barely contain yourself.”

  I thought about a turtle sundae, and Breezy as a baby with cute chubby cheeks and huge blue eyes. Then I remembered when I first got Twinkie, Twyla back then, and took her for a walk down our street. I loved her so much, and I couldn’t believe she was all mine. I could think of nothing else.

  “Okay? You ready?” Tyson looked from me and back to Eli.

  We nodded, and I wondered if Eli was thinking about the time he won a first place trophy at a major dance competition with his jazz solo, or if it was the summer his parents finally gave in and let him go to a month-long summer dance workshop in Chicago.

  Tyson stepped back and started the lyrical melody. The notes started dreamy and romantic. My body loved the music and moved to it perfectly, but I couldn’t focus on Eli and think loving thoughts, even if the loving thoughts were about my dog.

  Eli did better, except he focused over my shoulder and never actually settled his eyes on me, which was par for the course.

  “Cut!” Tyson snapped off the music. “This is not going to work if you two refuse to engage with each other. This has been going on long enough.” He stomped over. “Would you two stop being so damned polite to each other? You’re either going at each other’s throats or you’re tiptoeing around. Come here.”

  I stepped closer, as did Eli, but he did it with a huff. Tyson took us by the arm to center stage and made us face each other standing only four feet apart.

  “Look at each other,” Tyson said.

  Eli crossed his arms and looked away.

  “Eli! Look at her!”

  He reluctantly turned to face me.

  “You are both gorgeous. Don’t you see it?
Eli, she’s got the face of an angel, she smells good and has all those nice girl parts.”

  Eli rolled his eyes. I stuck my tongue out at him. Tyson frowned.

  “Willow, look at him. He’s buff, he’s got that cool hair thing going on, he’s got movie star good looks. What’s not to love?”

  Tyson was right. I snuck a quick look and had to agree. Eli was damned hot. We just had so much baggage it was hard to see.

  “You two should be in an ad for Abercrombie for Christ sake! I happen to know you guys used to spend every minute together. And now you act like you’ve just met. Well, jig’s up. The two of you have so much chemistry, it’s oozing out.”

  I looked at Eli in confusion. What the hell was he talking about?

  “You guys can keep denying it, but it’s there. You have a couple other kisses in the show, but this is the money kiss, the one that makes the ladies in the audience weep with joy, and this won’t work until you two get past your crap. You need to get together and get comfortable with each other’s bodies. You’re dancers for pete’s sake, and your bodies are instruments to perform emotion at the highest level. You touch in a lot of your dances, but it’s like you don’t feel. You’re just going through the motions and that’s gotta end.” Tyson paced as he lectured us.

  “A true artist will put his ego aside and see the beauty of another human being Artists take those moments, trust their partner, and show their vulnerability. You need to get together and relax with each other. Spend some time and check each other out.”

  I peeked at Eli. Tyson stopped pacing and faced us.

  “I want you to get to know the contours of each other. Eli, get familiar with the small of her back, the curve of her neck, look at the elegance of her hands. Willow, touch his shoulders, his arms. They are the power that lift you. Look into his eyes. They hold so much untapped emotion. Meet him half way. Open up and really look at each other. Learn to find the trust in each other.”

  My eyes met Eli’s. Tyson was right. Eli and I both knew it.

  “You’re right,” Eli said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “We’ve been stuck in the past.”

  “We’ll figure this out,” Eli told Tyson.

  And we would. I didn’t know how we’d get past the barrier, but I knew Eli was as much of a perfectionist, as am I. We would not fail.

  An hour later, as I walked down the Ex hall on my way out, Eli called out. “Willow, wait up.”

  I turned, a little shocked to see him approach. He looked different with his coat on and duffle over his shoulder. I’d grown used to rehearsal Eli, who only spoke to me when he had to. Now here he was out in public.

  “What’s up?” I pretended this was normal.

  He fell in step with me. “So we’ve gotta fix that, you know, stuff that Tyson’s freaking over.”

  “You mean our vulnerability and untapped emotions?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled sheepishly. It reminded me of the Eli I used to know.

  “What did you have in mind?” I asked as we reached the doors.

  “Tomorrow night. Messerschmidt Road.” He pushed the door open for me.

  “Huh?” I passed through, digesting his words. “Oh. OH!” I spun around.

  He searched my eyes to see if I was on board. “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  Dumbfounded, I nodded. Messerschmidt Road.

  The make-out spot.

  Chapter 21

  Saturday night. Talk about awkward. I knew we both want to get to that magic place Tyson keeps lecturing about. It’s just really hard to let your guard down when so much hurt has been passed back and forth. But we bit the bullet, and here we were in his mom’s spacious Cadillac.

  “Okay, so this is insane, right?” I tucked my hands between my legs for warmth.

  “Yup.” Eli drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and looked out over the landing strip before us.

  I followed his gaze. Eli had driven us to Messerschmidt Road. I’d never been here before, but I knew a bunch of kids who had. It was a pretty spot on a hill that overlooked the airport. The runways were lit up with yellow, blue and green lights. Their reflection on the icy snow gave a festive air to the night. I shivered despite the fact I wore my wool peacoat, a thick scarf, and warm gloves.

  “You cold? I can turn up the heat.”

  He adjusted the controls and turned on the radio, but I doubted it would help. I’d been a wreck since he set up this date. Okay, not a real date, a make-out date. No dinner, no movie, just a lip-locking, body-groping romp. Eli was determined we make our performance perfect, and we had to figure out how to sell it on stage.

  I couldn’t agree more. I hate to do anything halfway when other people are involved. I don’t like to let them down. I’d grown to trust and admire Tyson and I wanted to do everything in my power to make sure it was a success.

  But that’s easier in concept than reality. I looked out the windows. Somehow the confines of the car made sitting near Eli more intimidating. At rehearsal, a huge stage and auditorium gave us space, and even though we danced close and touched, it wasn’t so dang personal.

  Silence hung over us like a the lowering of a casket at a burial.

  Eli gripped the steering wheel with both hands as if bracing for a root canal. “This is insane,” he said. “It’s not that big a deal, we can do this.”

  “Yeah, totally.” I wished I had his confidence.

  “It would help if you didn’t look so scared.”

  “I’m not scared, I’m just nervous,” I said. ‘This whole ‘perform on command’ is a little warped. I’m just trying to get my head around it.

  “Actors do it all the time. We can too.”

  “I know, and we will. We just have to figure out how.”

  “Okay, enough talking. Let’s get this thing started.” He turned off the engine but left the heat and the radio on. “I don’t want us to asphyxiate ourselves.” Eli unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed his seat back.

  Oh boy! So this was it. My palms turned sweaty. Relax, I told myself. Deep breath, let the tensions go. Find your Zen place.

  Eli turned toward me so serious and determined. I couldn’t help but look at his mouth. His very sexy mouth. But this was Eli, and my feelings about him were so jumbled. The last time he kissed me was before freshman year outside of Miss Ginny’s while waiting for my dad.

  It had been a warm fall night and we’d finished a full schedule of classes. I still remembered the full moon and the fireflies floating in the air. We’d been totally relaxed, sharing a bag of cheetos.

  Suddenly, he’d leaned over, wiped some crumbs from my cheek, and kissed me. I’d been so shocked, especially when our eyes met and his were filled with so much more than friendship. I’d panicked. There was no other way to say it. My best friend for practically my whole life had suddenly changed the rules.

  Thank God my dad chose that moment to arrive, so I had a quick getaway. Now, more than three years later, here we were again, only this time locked in his mom’s car, watching planes land, and getting ready for a repeat kiss. This time there was no running away. I chose to be here.

  “All right,” I answered and licked my lips. Oh, was that wrong? I shouldn’t kiss him with a wet mouth. I swiped my mitten across my mouth.

  We leaned forward and touched lips. It felt strange.

  So this was me kissing Eli. His mouth was firm and warm. It was sort of an out-of-body experience. He leaned forward, and our noses bumped. We repositioned, and I ended up kissing the side of his mouth in a tight closed-mouth kiss. Eli reached for me, but grabbed only my thick coat and scarf. We pulled apart.

  “This isn’t working.” He pushed at his hair, which made it tousled in a cute sort of way.

  “Nope. Felt like kissing a brother, if I had one, or a best friend.” Deep down I thought his kisses would be great. I guess it was better this way.

  “Well, I thought we were friends again,” he said with an honesty I hadn’t seen in a while.

  “Ar
e we?” It sure was hard to tell with his standoffish behavior.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He appeared to have just made that decision.

  “Good,” I said. Maybe we were finally making progress. It would be a lot easier to try to kiss now that I knew he wasn’t mad.

  “I think I know the problem. You’ve got too many clothes on. I can’t even get to you.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “You’re wrapped up like an Eskimo. Could you lose the coat and scarf?”

  “Sure.” I removed my outer layer and stuffed it on the floor.

  We faced each other over the front seat console and leaned in.

  “Wait a minute, this thing is screwing us up.” He slapped the console.

  “Back seat?” I offered, not believing I actually spoke the words out loud. I sounded like such a ho.

  “Yeah.”

  We both turned to crawl over. I realized my shoes might scratch the leather seats. “Shoes off?”

  “Good idea,” he agreed, kicking his shoes off.

  At least we were working together. I slipped my shoes off and crawled over the top of the seats. I’m sure it didn’t look too graceful with my butt up in the air. Eli didn’t comment, he just followed me over, fell onto the back seat, and we rolled around trying to get situated. I laughed nervously. It felt cooler in the back seat, and we had a lot more space.

  With one foot tucked under me I turned sideways so I could face him. He did the same. A few seconds ticked by.

  “I think we need to go to Plan B. We need a little help,” Eli said.

  “What’s that?”

  Eli reached down, rifled around in a bag and pulled out a couple of bottles. “Liquid courage,” he said with a grin, holding up brandy and Grape Power Aid. “It’s not the greatest combination, but it’s the best I could find.”

  I chewed the side of my lip, embarrassed at my relief. “Good idea.” Drinking wasn’t usually my thing, but we needed all the help we could get.

  “Here, hold these.” He handed over the bottles, dug through the bag and pulled out a couple of plastic tumblers with melting ice. Together we mixed our concoction like two co-conspirators. I poured the purple stuff, and he poured the brandy.