by T. A. Foster
There was a light knock on the door, shaking me out of my Beau thoughts. “Come in.”
Derek pushed the door open and closed it behind him. “Hey.”
“Oh. Hi, Derek.”
I pulled out a cotton ball and started dabbing at my cheeks. Seeing him reminded me of the weird ass pat he gave me on stage. Maybe I had misinterpreted the gesture. We were all a little punchy on opening night. He was the writer, director, and producer. If anyone had a right to have preshow jitters tonight, it was Derek.
“You were more than I could have dreamed of tonight, London. You were relentless. What you did out there was—”
Derek’s compliments were interrupted. There was another knock on the door, this time more assertive.
“Come in.” Sharing a dressing room with six girls was nothing if not a test of modesty and privacy. Girls were usually floating in and out like a revolving door.
Instead of a person, a bouquet of red roses worked their way through the crack in the door. I spun around in my chair as Beau followed.
He laughed as he crossed the room and handed them to me. “I know they are kinda cliché on Valentine’s Day, but they are the perfect symbol of Love Match. My choices were kind of limited today. Plus, every pretty girl deserves flowers on Valentine’s Day.”
I managed to keep myself from squealing as I accepted the dozen roses in my arms.
“Yeah, man, those are cliché. Who are you anyway? Who let you back here?” Derek muttered.
“Derek! This is Beau, my Comm 224 partner.” I smiled reassuringly at Beau, noticing he was dressed in dark pants and a button-up shirt.
“Oh, right, the guy you’re fake dating for class. I heard about that. Can’t find anyone who will date you, man?”
“Derek! Seriously. What is wrong with you?” I withheld a slap that was ready to fly from my palm.
The irritated playwright rubbed the scruff along his jawline. “Nothing. Nothing. I’ll catch you later, London.”
He knocked into Beau’s shoulder as he exited the dressing room. I watched in total bewilderment as the other girls in the cast started filtering in.
“Beau, give me five minutes. I’m almost ready.” I smiled and shooed him out the door before the girls started disrobing in front of him. Nudity in this troupe was all part of the family environment.
The little pit that started to form when Derek was in the room eased with the chatter of the other girls. I didn’t think anyone else saw or heard what had happened.
Candace ran up and threw her arms around my neck. “Babe, you were unforgettable tonight. It was our best show yet. The best.”
I was glad Candace had decided to stick with the performance. Although I was sure this was going to be her last show, it was nice to share the stage with her.
“Is Pearce here? Was he in the audience?” I hoped, for her sake, the man in her life had bothered to attend her opening night performance.
“He made it at intermission. He’s outside now. We’re going back to his place for a special romantic Valentine’s dinner. He said he’s going to cook. Isn’t he the sweetest?”
While the rest of us were taking off our makeup, Candace was adding to hers. There was a certain image associated with the role of football girlfriend, and Candace made sure she fulfilled Pearce’s expectations in every way possible. At least he was here on opening night—that should count for something.
“I’m happy for you, Candace. Sounds like you and Pearce are going to have a great time. I didn’t know he could cook.” We laughed together. The image of Pearce stirring boiling water while wearing his shoulder pads popped in my head.
“London, the guy outside the dressing room, is he who you’re blogging about for class?” Penelope, one of the costars, asked.
“Yes. That’s Beau Anderson. We’re Comm 224 partners.”
“He’s cute.”
Candace winked at me with a knowing look.
Nina skipped into the room and slammed the door behind her. “Holy shit. Who is the hot guy outside our dressing room?”
All eyes turned to me. Did other people immediately see what it had taken me a month to realize?
“Uh, that’s Beau.”
“Are you kidding me? What in the hell is wrong with you, London? That’s the rock-climbing, motorcycle-riding, basketball champion Beau?”
“Uh. Yeah.” I cowered in front of the lights. Nina was going to let me have it.
“I’m letting you off the hook this time because I know you have plans and because I have plans too.” She had the cat that ate the canary look on her face.
“You do?”
Candace chimed in. “Love is in the air. Of course she has plans.”
Nina’s cheeks were flushed. “I ran into Derek backstage and he asked me to get a drink with him. I think this is it. He has finally come to his senses.” I watched as she lowered her shirt to expose a little more cleavage.
“Um, Nina?”
“What?” She turned toward me, dabbing extra coats of mascara on her lashes.
I chickened out. She looked so excited and it was Valentine’s night. I couldn’t crumble the fantasy she had since our freshman year. “Nothing. Have fun.” I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry about me. Candace is right. Love is in the air.”
“Bye, Candace. Tell Pearce hi.” I wanted both of my roommates to have a special night with their Valentines.
I grabbed my coat and my roses and walked out to meet Beau.
“Ready?” Beau eyed me as I covered up my deep green dress with a knee-length vintage coat I had found in a thrift store.
I looped my arm through the crook of his arm. “Yes. I want to know what the mysterious surprise is.”
“Right this way.” He led me through the remaining audience members and the cast.
***
Date Four: The Stars Are On Fire
We emerged onto the parking lot of Graham Memorial. I noticed the barren rose garden encircling one of campus’s famous landmarks, the sundial. I clutched my roses a little closer to my chest. It was sweet that Beau got roses for me on opening night, and even sweeter he called me pretty.
I followed him as he led me across the parking lot, past the dormant rose bushes, and toward the massive building adjacent to the theater.
“Where are we going?” I was just as nervous as I was excited.
Beau and I had to watch last week’s Love Match episode separately because of my rehearsal schedule. Nina had no problem turning it into our girls’ night. She finally had someone to watch the show with her, even if I was watching it out of graduation necessity.
Victoria and the bachelors were in Barcelona, where it was warm and sunny. The dating coordinators for the show had taken the intensity up a few notches since the first few episodes. I couldn’t imagine we were going to go on a helicopter ride tonight, or ride wild ponies on the beach. I had wondered all week what date Beau was going to try to pull off from the show. I had a feeling as the season progressed it was going to be harder and harder for us to simulate the dates.
“Ever been in the planetarium when it was closed?” Beau had a mischievous look in his eye.
“Are you serious?” I had never been in any building after hours except the theater, but technically, I was allowed to be there. It didn’t count as renegade activity.
He laughed. “Come on.”
We walked around to the farthest point of the dominant building, bordered by trees. I waited at the bottom of the stone staircase, while Beau jogged to the top and knocked on the glass. I felt like we were a part of the secret speakeasy society from the Roaring Twenties. The door cracked open and Beau motioned me to follow him inside.
“Hey, man, thanks for doing this,” Beau whispered to his unnamed partner in crime.
“No problem. Everything is all set. Have a good time.” He punched Beau in the arm and slipped out the side door.
“Who was that?”
“One of m
y roommates. He works here. Good to have connections, you know?” He smiled and pulled me down the dark hall.
I was quickly learning Beau had connections all over campus.
My heels clicked on the marble floors, reminding me of Professor Garcia’s boots in class. I giggled silently, thinking about her wild theatrics. If she wanted her students to live her class, she had two who were doing that and more.
“Beau, where are we going?” We were climbing a winding staircase. I worried he thought we could try repelling again. Along with flying and horseback riding, Victoria had gone skydiving this week and I was not interested.
“Stop being so nervous. You’re going to love it.”
We walked down another hallway and up a second staircase before he pushed open a door that led to the roof.
I caught my breath. The rooftop was glowing. Candle-filled glass jars created a walkway that led to the center of the roof and a pile of pillows and blankets. There was a picnic basket, a bottle of champagne, and roses—red roses everywhere.
“Oh, Beau. I—”
The roof of the planetarium looked like a professional set crew had decorated it for a romantic night under the stars. It was incredible.
“Wait. I have something else.” He held his phone toward the basket and tapped the screen. I smiled. My Rihanna song played.
I followed the path of deep crimson rose petals toward the pile of blankets. They were multicolored and mismatched with the pillows. I noticed one had a cord. I looked at him quizzically.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I know you are always cold. I couldn’t expect you to have a stargazing rooftop picnic without an electric blanket.”
An electric blanket? He was melting my heart—that was sweeter than the roses. I flipped open the picnic basket. It was stocked with grapes, cheese, crackers, and brownies. I reached for the chocolate first.
He knelt to grab the champagne and loosened it from the icy bucket. “I haven’t said anything yet, but I really liked the play. It was good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah. It was good. You, however, were the super star. You weren’t kidding about being on stage. It was like you were a different person out there.” He smiled as the champagne cork popped across the roof. “One day I’ll be able to say I knew that movie star when she was in college. Maybe I’ll even give one of those tabloid TV interviews and tell all your secrets.” He handed me a chilled glass. “You know I’m kidding by now, right? Seriously, though, you were really fantastic tonight.”
I liked how Beau looked right into my eyes when he talked to me. “Thanks. I think for an opening night it went really well.”
“I bet you’ll be glad when the week is over and you can take a break.”
“Break? What do you mean?”
“You’ve been in rehearsals nonstop. Once the play is done, you can just coast until graduation. You only have this project.”
“I’ve got another production going right after this one. I’m not taking a break.”
“Really? Don’t you want to stop and experience college life before it’s gone? Isn’t there anything you wish you had more time to do? You spend a lot of time in that basement.”
I couldn’t tell if he was testing me or just teasing. “The theater is my life. I’ve been a part of Encore since I was a freshman. I have one show left and I’m not going to take off and hang out.”
His idea seemed absurd, but amid the candlelight and the champagne, a part of me regretted I didn’t have nights like this in my Carolina memories. I had spent them in the basement rehearsing or in the library studying. Beau’s questions might have struck a nerve.
“Ok. Ok. I get it. You are an actress.” He knocked back the rest of his champagne. “It seems we both think we know what’s best for the other.”
I felt slightly less irritated remembering how I grilled Beau about becoming a lawyer. I probably deserved that.
“Be honest. What do you think?” He gestured to the rooftop.
Beau looked undeniably hot on the roof. It didn’t occur to me only because all the girls backstage were undressing him with their eyes. My resistance to him was quickly coming undone every time his arm brushed against mine or he smiled at me as if he knew who I really was. The way he worried every time I made a fool of myself was sexier to me than I ever could have imagined. Beau was daring and adventurous; maybe it was time I tried to be too. I was holding so much back. Maybe I should try Beau’s open approach to life.
I nestled into the pillows, hoping he would sit next to me. “It’s the most unreal thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe you did all of this. You really know your Love Match.” It truly looked like something out of a movie or, in our case, a cheesy reality show about finding true love.
“I figured we needed something over-the-top to write about on the blog this week since it is Valentine’s Day and all.” I watched as he snapped a few pictures of the setting with his phone. “I can post a few pics and talk about how this looks just like one of Victoria’s dates. We haven’t had one of the crazy roses-and-candles dates they have on the show. This should definitely help disprove the love theory.” He refilled my glass of champagne.
I bit down hard on my lip. I chugged the cold champagne, feeling the smoothness of the bubbles slide down my throat.
“Hey, London. You ok? You’re awfully quiet.” He finally sat next to me on the cushions and laid the electric blanket over my lap. It was already warm.
I couldn’t talk. If I said anything, my voice was going to crack and tears were going to run down my cheeks. This was the most beautiful date I had ever had and it was all fake. This was for a class project and it didn’t mean anything more to him than that. I wasn’t much different from Nina and her useless crush on Derek.
“Wait. Did you think I was setting this up for real?”
Now he was just rubbing it in. I was the one who had given in to the romantic aura surrounding Valentine’s Day. Talking was still out of the question; my voice would betray me. I felt the tear sliding down my face and I couldn’t stop it.
“Oh shit. London, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I’m not good with crying girls. I have no idea what to do.” Beau nervously shifted positions so he was sitting almost in front of me, leaning on one arm. He edged closer so that I could smell the faintest hint of his cologne.
Sheer panic spread across his face. He looked so worried with his forehead crinkled, that a tiny giggle escaped my mouth.
“That’s better. I like it when you’re laughing.” He reached toward my face and traced the tear off my cheek.
The gesture was pure and intimate. I stared into his eyes. The depths of brown layers were dancing with the flickering candlelight. I held my breath as his hand moved to cup the side of my face and I let my eyes close, feeling the roughness of his palm against my cheek. The longer we sat not moving, the more I felt the want for him building in my chest. I wasn’t sure how to draw him closer to me—I already felt so off balance. But I knew I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me.
“London, do you want it to be real?”
He wasn’t supposed to ask me that. None of this should be happening. Resolved to extricate gracefully from my position, I opened my eyes. Before I could regain control of the situation, Beau’s lips brushed across mine. They were warm and tender, and he tasted better than anyone I had ever kissed. This must be what the show meant by champagne kisses. I shed the warmth of the blanket and any rational thinking. My arms wrapped around his neck as he groaned quietly, deepening the kiss.
My body trembled when his arm enfolded me and eased me onto the cushions his friend had arranged for our planetarium rendezvous. I ran my fingers along his neck and through his hair, urging his mouth onto mine harder. His hand slid down my thigh and tugged under my knee so that my leg coiled around his waist.
I twisted my head to the side, allowing his hot mouth to kiss my neck. His tongue played with my ear. For the first time, I slowly opened my eyes, unsure if I was ready for th
e reality of what Beau and I were doing.
The flames flickered a bright orange. “Beau, fire!”
“Um…hmm…I feel it too.”
I pushed him forward, knocking him back. “No, it’s on fire. Our picnic basket. Look.”
“Shit.” He jumped up, pulled the champagne bottle from the bucket and turned the ice and water onto the smoldering fire that had begun roasting our grapes and cheese.
“Are the brownies ruined?” I asked as Beau inspected the remnants of our late night snack.
