by Lynn Stevens
“Go on three.” Denny counted, and I pushed off the platform at the designated time.
The black straps dug into my butt as I slowly picked up speed. A few seconds in and all I could think of was the way my heart slammed in my chest, the way the air whipped through my hair, the feeling of flying through the air with nobody to stop me. No Luke. No Gracin. Nobody.
The answer hit me then.
Gracin had sung about it, and Denny mentioned it. The answer to my problems.
I never wanted to look back on any part of my life and regret any more decisions I’d make. Good or bad. I didn’t want to look back and wonder “what if I didn’t do x, y, or z.” I wanted to be able to say “at least, I tried.”
No regrets.
That was the answer to everything.
CHAPTER TEN
Gracin avoided me for the next few days, keeping everything between us strictly professional. It sucked, but I let him do what he felt was necessary. Even if it meant putting some distance between us. We still ran every morning. We still ate lunch and dinner together. Gloria continued to flirt with Gracin, but he smiled politely and didn’t encourage her.
Nena and Ivy stopped asking me about Derrick. Things were getting back to normal between us. I’d avoided even texting them, but it wasn’t their fault. They cared. They just didn’t understand why I didn’t want to talk about it. It was in the past, over. I wanted to leave it there and move on. Instead of talking, we shopped. Retail therapy helped. Mom was more than willing to give me her platinum card for “respectable clothes,” as she put it. Of course, I bought some kick ass leather pants instead.
Saturday afternoon, I stopped by the theater to drop off some of Gracin’s wardrobe for the night. After hanging everything in the right order, which made it easier for me to grab and go during the show, I headed toward the stage to catch a bit of rehearsal.
The voices echoed off the empty seats. I recognized Gracin’s immediately, but the other one wasn’t as familiar. I rushed toward the stage, peeking out to see what the hell was going on.
“When are you going to grow up, Gracin?” Albert Ford snapped. His hands were out of control, flapping in the air to his sides as he berated his son. “This isn’t a game. This isn’t just your life. Everything you do affects me and everyone associated with you. Face it, boy, you can’t do this without me.”
I’d never seen Gracin look so small. His confidence, his swagger was missing as his dad continued to scream.
“You’re not a songwriter. Sing the damned songs we agreed on.” He paced in a small circle before stopping in front of Gracin and shoving a finger in his face. “You try to pull this bullshit tonight, and we’ll be out on our asses. Reynolds will say you’ve broken the contract. He hired a pop star, not some wannabe country singer. Branson’s got enough of those. So get your head out of your ass and do what I tell you. That’s the only way you’ll survive this business.”
I waited for Gracin to say something, anything, but he stood there with his head down while his dad kept on going. It tore me up to see this. The guy I knew wouldn’t sit back and take this much crap from anyone.
“You’re such a useless piece of shit,” Albert added, and I lost it.
Nobody talked to my friends that way. I stormed onto the stage and let my freak flag fly.
“Don’t call him that!” I jammed my finger into Albert Ford’s breastbone. It didn’t matter that he was almost a foot taller; I wasn’t backing down from him. “My father would relish anything Gracin brought to the stage, even his original songs. He wouldn’t kick him out for breach of contract when the shows are already sold out for the rest of June, most of July, and several in August. So, don’t threaten Gracin like that, Mr. Ford.”
“You need to mind your own business, missy,” Albert grunted between his teeth. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Maybe not, but it has a lot to do with my father.” I raised myself on my tiptoes to appear as tall as possible. “And don’t you ever call Gracin a piece of shit again. If you want to know what shit looks like, go stare at yourself in the mirror.”
“Carly, that’s enough,” Gracin said with a sigh of resignation.
Albert’s head snapped up as if he’d forgotten Gracin was in the same space as us. “You’ll do what I tell you, boy. Remember who’s managed your career for the last six years. I know the business. They want what you’ve been giving them, not some bullcrap love song.”
Before I could open my mouth to start another verbal sparring match, Albert turned away from us and strolled off the stage like he owned it. My ass. I’d show him who owned this theater. I moved to go after him, but a hand tightened around my upper arm and I spun toward a very pissed off Gracin.
His eyes raged, and the frown would give him premature age lines if he kept it up. “Some things in this world aren’t your business, Carly. So butt out.”
“What?”
Shaking his head, he turned away from me and left the stage on the opposite side his father had a second ago. How many times was he going to leave me on this stage alone? That asshole was just as bad as his father. He won’t stand up for himself but gets mad at me for doing it.
That was the final straw. I’d had enough crap happen to me in the last few weeks, and Gracin Ford had been smack dab in the middle of all of it. Time to show him what the hell he was doing to me.
With each step I took toward his dressing room, my anger grew. I felt six feet tall by the time I threw open the door to his room. Gracin paced with his chin in his hand. He stopped when I entered.
“What now, Carly?” He bit down each word.
“You really don’t want to piss me off anymore, Gracin. I’ve had it up to here with your attitude.” I raised my hand over my head so he’d get the point. “One minute, you’re inviting yourself along to a barbecue and playing my protector, the next you’re eating dinner with a wannabe showgirl. Are you off your meds or something?”
Gracin’s head took on a sway as his anger at me increased. I was out of line with the meds comment, but sometimes my brain and mouth don’t work together well.
“Seriously,” I said, full steam ahead, “I don’t understand you half the time. Everything you do is the exact opposite of what I see when we hang out. You perform music you don’t like. You cater to your father’s whims. You hold me one minute, then shut me out the next.”
“Ah,” Gracin’s face lit like dawn. “Now I get it.” He punctuated his realization with a harsh laugh.
“Get what?” He may have thought he understood what was going on, but I sure as hell didn’t.
Gracin moved toward me, stopping toe-to-toe. He bent his head down to meet my gaze. “Admit it, you’re jealous of Gloria. Just because we’ve developed something of a friendship doesn’t mean there’s anything else going on here, Carly. You should stop deluding yourself.”
“Deluding myself? You really are crazy, you know that? You must be the one that’s delusional to even think I’d be interested in anything with you.” I’d inched closer to him without realizing it.
“Bullshit.” His breath was hot against my lips. I wanted to close the gap.
“I’ll prove it,” I replied. Somewhere along the line, we’d stopped yelling and started whispering in frantic tones.
“How can you disprove a fact, Carly? You’ve got it bad for me, and nothing can happen here.” His words slapped me across the face. Anyone else would’ve stormed out the door, but I saw it as a challenge.
“Then you prove it, Gracin. Kiss me, and you’ll see we’re in the same boat.”
My heart stopped beating as I waited for him to call me out. He inched closer, and I thought he was closing the distance.
“You’d never recover,” he said. His lips were a hair away from mine. The temptation was too great.
“Wanna bet?” I pressed my lips against his with hardly enough pressure to really feel it. Just that tiny bit was enough to set my entire body on fire. Gracin’s hands slid onto my waist, y
anking me against his body as he kissed me back without any reservations. His mouth was the conductor and mine the orchestra, responding to every movement. When his tongue found mine, they danced in a slow, sensual ballet. My hands found their own way up his arms and around his neck.
God, this was more than I’d anticipated. I’d expected Gracin would be a good kisser, I just didn’t realize he’d turn my entire being into the watery part of the jelly with barely a touch of his lips. I didn’t want to stop there. I needed all of him.
Then he was on the other side of the room with his head pressed into his hands.
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust and my heart to calm down. Cooling my body off would take a cold shower and a few hours, or a few hours in a cold shower.
“This can’t happen.” He breathed heavy like he did after sprinting the final leg of our run. “We can’t … I can’t … It won’t happen.”
I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t like I’d been the only one doing the kissing here. He’d been just as involved, if not the real instigator. I’d only brushed my lips against his to prove him wrong. Which was funny when I thought about it. Still, I didn’t say anything. Not when he told me no. Not when he said this heat between us wasn’t going to grow. I let my gaze fall to the floor and walked toward the door slow enough for him to change his mind.
He didn’t.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“You can’t be serious? You kissed Gracin Ford?” Nena’s squeal almost knocked me off my feet. I yanked the phone away from my ear. “Wait, what about Jonathan?”
“Forget about Jonathan, Nena. Did you even hear what I said? He turned me down.” I cringed as the words came out of my mouth.
“Did you ever think that maybe he did it for a reason? Maybe he didn’t reject you but what you might represent.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Carly, face the truth. How many girls have thrown themselves at him over the years because of who he is?” I could practically hear the eye roll through the phone. “Maybe he’s thinking you’re doing the same thing.”
“Psychoanalyze much?” Sarcasm was required here. “It doesn’t matter why, it only matters what happened. And Gracin told me no.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Hell, no. Totally worth it.” I sighed and laid it all on the line for her. He’d kissed me back and, for about two minutes, everything had been perfect. “I would rather know he didn’t want me than to look back on this summer and ask myself what if. It’s better this way.” A text beeped in my ear. “Hold on, Neens.” A quick glance at the caller ID took a bit of pain from my sting. I put the phone back to my ear. “I have to go. Time to move on from the disaster that is Gracin Ford.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Carly. I don’t have enough money for bail.”
I laughed but didn’t let on that stupid was right up my alley at the moment.
A knock interrupted my response to Denny’s text. He wanted to hook up after the show and go to a late movie. I was about to tell him yes, but Miranda waltzed into my room with a huge grin.
“What’s up, Meerkat?” Her obsession with all things animal had brought about the nickname. My little sister was probably my best friend and worst enemy at the same time. She’d start her freshman year this fall, and I wished I would be here to stop anything bad from happening to her. Then again, Derrick wouldn’t be coming anywhere near my family ever again. That was comforting.
“Did you really kiss Gracin?” Her eyes lit like first stars on a summer night. She had a framed photo of the two of them by her nightstand. He’d signed it, “To my best girl, Love, Gracin Ford.” Miranda had declared her undying love for him at that point.
I fell back on my pillows. “I’m so not having this conversation with you.” The red numbers on the clock on my nightstand reminded me it was time to face the music. Even after what had happened, I still had a job to do. And I was going to do it with more professionalism than Gracin had. In other words, no calling him a rat bastard to his face.
Miranda stood over my bed and stared at me. “You really like him.”
I started to hide my head under my pillow, but stopped myself. Why not admit it to one person? “Yeah, Meerkat, I like him a lot. But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like me the same way.”
Miranda nodded and clenched her jaw. “He’s a jerk then.”
I smiled at her defense of me and sat up. Taking both of her hands into mine, I thought I’d offer more truth. “No, he’s not. He’s just being honest about it. If he doesn’t want to be with me, then he shouldn’t. You know how I always try to tell the truth?”
“Except with Dad,” Miranda pointed out.
I really laughed that time. “Yeah, well there are some things Dad should never know. This is one of them. Keep it between us, okay?”
Miranda nodded.
“Okay, I’ve got to go or I’ll be late.” I pushed myself off my bed. Miranda wrapped her arms around me in a hug.
“I miss you, Carly. Mom’s always hovering around, and I can’t do anything. You’re never here. Luke’s never here either. Every time I try to go to Eddie’s house, Mom’s in my face.”
“Just tell her you need your space. She probably thinks Eddie’s your boyfriend.” In the back of my mind, I wondered if this little anti-Eddie move by Mom was a result of the Derrick situation. There was no way Mom or Dad had told her. And I highly doubt Luke had mentioned the rest of my confession to anyone. He was more of the hide-reality-in-the-closet kind of guy.
Miranda let go of me and stepped back. “I wouldn’t mind if he was.”
If my little sister was good at anything, it was making me laugh. “I’ll talk to Mom tomorrow, okay?”
“Thanks.” She ran out the door, but stuck her head back into my room. “If you want, I’ll tell Gracin what I think.”
“Thanks, Miranda. But I’ll be fine.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if that was true.
∞ ∞ ∞
The show started at seven, so I arrived at the theater at six and made a few phone calls from Dad’s office. It was quieter in there, and there was little to no chance I’d run into my brother. His avoidance skills were at an all-time high, and I wondered if he doubted what I’d told him. I also wondered if he’d talked to Derrick. Dad had demanded Luke cut all ties with Derrick, but Luke sometimes has a mind of his own. This might’ve been one of the times he chose to actually use the brain God gave him.
I kept a close eye on the clock and on the excessive amount of text messages from Gracin wanting to know exactly where I was. After the fifth one, I responded.
I’m at the theater, Mr. Ford. That was it. Simple and to the point.
Where? he responded immediately.
I’m in the main office scheduling your mani-pedi and massage for tomorrow afternoon between rehearsal and the show.
I stared at the phone, waiting for a response. It took him several minutes before my phone beeped.
We need to talk.
About what? I typed. If there was a barometer for my anger, it would’ve exploded as soon as I read his last text.
You know what.
Mr. Ford, we are not in high school. You were perfectly clear earlier in the day. It will not affect my abilities to do my job nor to ensure that you have everything you need for each performance. The formality in my text made me laugh. I loved going all fancy pants on occasion. This was one that deserved it.
After ten minutes of no response, I headed toward his dressing room to prepare for the show. Backstage was hectic, but in an organized way. Grips and stagehands fixed last minute problems. The band strolled toward the entrance to the stage without a care in the world. Gloria swished her skirts around the lead guitarist. He didn’t seem to mind. With less than thirty minutes until showtime, Gracin should’ve been making his way toward the stage too. He liked to get a look at the crowd before he went on.
I’d timed it so I could avoid him as much as possible. Appa
rently, that wasn’t part of his plan. When I opened the door to his dressing room, he stood in the middle of the rug with nothing but his jeans on.
“What the hell?” I stood there with my hand frozen on the doorknob.
He stormed toward me, getting close enough we could repeat our earlier performance of tongue hockey. “We need to talk.”
“There isn’t anything to talk about, Mr. Ford.” I stressed his name as I pushed past him. Was I being childish? Yep, but he deserved it.
“Carly,” he whispered, but I didn’t turn around.
Heading straight to his wardrobe, I yanked out his usual costumes for the first half of the show. I moved back toward the door, holding his leather jacket in my right hand. Gracin hadn’t moved from the doorway, so I had to push by him again, slamming the jacket against his chest.
“I’ll be at my station,” I said without glancing behind me.
Once I hit the steps, tears welled in my eyes. Did I regret kissing him? Maybe a little. Because I couldn’t look at him without wanting to do it again. Rejection sucked on so many levels.
The show felt off. The band sounded great, but the energy wasn’t there. Gracin wouldn’t even meet my eyes during the costume changes. I watched him perform a karaoke version of some new hit song. He wasn’t having fun at all. The crowd didn’t notice. They swooned in the right places, screamed in the perfect moments. They loved him, but he didn’t seem to love them back.
After the final encore, I followed him up to the dressing room like I’d done after every show. Gracin sat in his chair with his elbows on his knees. He knew the show had sucked more than usual. I could tell he was beating himself up over it.
“How long is this going to last?” he asked without looking up.
“What’re you talking about?” My heart hitched in my chest, but I pretended not to be affected by him. Work would keep me sane. I started hanging his jackets, smelling each one to see what needed to go to the cleaners the next day. Gross, but effective.
