Authors: Cora Carmack
A
GOLD NECKLACE
sat weighted and heavy around my neck. My hair was piled in curls and jewels, and my dress, though sweeping and simple, was heavy and lush. I sat staring in the dressing room mirror as the makeup designer put finishing touches on my hair, and I completed the application of my stage makeup. It was opening night, and despite my heavy costume and jewelry, I felt like I was going to float away.
Excitement rushed faster than blood through my veins.
We were here. Finally. The opening had been delayed a week due to the widespread sickness, but even so, I thought the show was good. Really good. And I wasn’t alone.
Kelsey came careening into the room, looking drop dead gorgeous as Aphrodite. “I know, I know. You don’t have to stare. I know how amazing I look.”
I smiled, just glad to have her back. She’d been the only one of my close friends to evade the dreaded mono, which was incredibly cruel, considering spin the bottle had been her idea.
She’d shown up on the last day of spring break to demand we “stop being prissy girls and make up already,” only to find Garrick and I curled up in bed together. She’d pieced together pretty quickly why I hadn’t wanted to go out dancing that night, and with a wide grin backed out of my room saying, “Don’t mind me. I didn’t see anything. My lips are sealed.” At first, Garrick had totally freaked, but since then she had definitely become an ally.
She smiled at Megan, the designer finishing my hair and said, “Looks great, Meg! You’re fantastic! I think Alyssa needed you for something though, so you might want to finish up fast.”
Megan nodded, spraying the final product with half a can of hairspray before fleeing the dressing room.
Kelsey threw herself into a chair beside me, “You’re welcome. And first, you look gorgeous. I’m a little envious. Shouldn’t Aphrodite have a better dress?”
I rolled my eyes.
“All right, okay. Nevermind. Secondly, you’re going to be amazing tonight. Seriously. Like, give her a Tony now amazing. Third, break a leg.” She leaned in and licked the side of my face, some weird pre-show tradition she’d had for as long as I’d known her. “And lastly, there’s someone else waiting outside to wish you a good show. You’ve got five minutes until warm-up. I can promise you privacy for three, so you better take advantage while you can.”
She placed a quick air kiss on my cheek, skipping toward the door and shut it behind her once Garrick had slipped inside.
“Hi,” He said.
“Hey.”
He stepped farther into the room, and I stood. It was disconcerting to see myself in the dozens of mirrors all around the room, so I focused on him, which wasn’t hard. He looked gorgeous as always.
“You look . . .” He paused, taking in my elaborate, midnight blue costume.
“If you say cute, I will skin you alive.”
He smiled and pulled me to him. Careful not to smudge my makeup, he placed a kiss on my neck instead, then dipped and dropped a kiss over my heart, just above the line of my gown. I clutched his shoulders, feeling light-headed at his touch.
He said, “I was going to say you looked unbelievably sexy. I’m glad you’re not my step-mum.”
I laughed, “I’m not sure being your student is much better.”
He dragged his lips up my neck, and then brought our faces close together. His blue eyes almost matched the color of my dress, dark and decadent.
“One month,” he said. We had one month until he was no longer my teacher, and I was no longer a college student. One month until it didn’t matter how we felt and who knew about it. One month until we planned to have sex.
It had seemed like a reasonable plan when we were holed up sick in my apartment. It gave me the time I needed to deal with my anxiety, and it held significance since we could no longer get in trouble. But the more he looked at me like
that,
like he was looking at me now, like he loved me, the less I cared about waiting.
“I wish I could really kiss you,” He said, staring mournfully at my lips, which were full and red thanks to layers of stage makeup.
“Tonight,” I told him. “After the party. My place?”
He leaned forward, at the last second swerving from my lips and kissing me in that spot below my ear that he
knew
made my knees go weak.
“It can’t come soon enough. ‘I feel all the furies of desire.’ ” He quoted one of my lines from the show back at me, and that reminded me that we were probably near the end of our time.
“You should probably go before everyone else gets back. Tell Kelsey thank you on your way out?”
“Oh I will. Best thing that ever happened to me . . . that girl finding out about us.”
I turned back to the mirror, making sure my makeup and hair still looked perfect. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say my best friend was the best thing to ever happen to you.”
Even though he was supposed to be leaving, he raced back to my side and circled his arms around me from behind. He kissed my neck one last time and said, “I love you.” I looked at him through the mirror. We looked good together—he in a suit, me in an elaborate Grecian gown. It was still kind of unbelievable, this thing we had. “I love you, too,” I said.
I stayed staring in the mirror after he left, thinking that I looked different. Not just the costume and hair and makeup—me. I looked . . . happy.
I heard Alyssa call for warm-up, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my sprinting heart.
Today was a big day.
Our first
Phaedra
performance.
My last opening night here ever.
And if I got my way, the night I lost my virginity.
T
HERE ARE MOMENTS
in theatre, when everything comes together exactly how it is supposed to happen. The costumes and set are perfect, the audience rapt and engaged, and the acting effortless.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Every actor was on fire.
And I . . . I lived another life in those two hours on stage. I lived the shame. It was a familiar emotion to me. I lived the hope when word came of my husband’s death. I dreamed that maybe . . . maybe Hippolytus could be mine. I felt the horror when my affections weren’t returned and when I learned my husband wasn’t dead after all. I experienced the pain of remorse when Hippolytus was killed based on my false accusations. And then finally, I felt the acceptance, the release of admitting my crimes, and it was almost as if I could feel the poison Phaedra took, coursing through my blood, reaching for my heart. It wasn’t until I had crumbled on the floor, Theseus’s last lines had been delivered, and the lights dimmed that I really came out of it.
The clapping started in the dark, and my breath caught in my throat. I fought back the tears that came with experiencing something as perfect and powerful as the performance I’d just had. That was what theatre was about—that kind of experience. We would never be able to recreate that again. Only the people here tonight would ever know what that show was like.
Theatre is once in a lifetime . . . every time.
It was like the stars aligned, because suddenly so many more things about my life became obvious. Things that had eluded me until now were laid plain in my mind. Everything made sense, and I couldn’t wait to see Garrick. Backstage was in an uproar when we left the stage after our final bows. Friends and family lined the halls between the stage door and the dressing rooms. Eric was there, smiling at us, proud of the show he’d put together. I hugged him first, so grateful that he gave me this chance, and that he didn’t dump me that first week when I was doing terrible.
“Best work I’ve ever seen you do, Bliss. You should be proud.”
I was, God, I was. My face felt split open by my smile.
Garrick was behind him, and even though it was risky, I hugged him too. He didn’t hold me long, just long enough to whisper, “Brilliant,” in my ear.
Then I lost myself in the crowd.
I was slick with sweat, and my dress felt as heavy as another person hanging on me, but I relished the hugs and congratulations that poured over me.
And when I was back in the dressing room . . .
I danced.
We all danced. Kelsey flipped on her iPod, and we celebrated as we peeled off the layers of our costumes. Our dressing room was filled with flowers, which helped to mask the sweat. When our things were put away, real clothes donned, and our stage makeup removed and real makeup re-applied, we moved the party elsewhere. We were heading to SideBar, the only bar close to campus that allowed people under twenty-one, a must when the whole cast was going.
I was surprised to find Cade waiting outside the dressing room when we exited. He stepped up beside me. “Hey, can I give you a ride to SideBar?”
That was surprising, but certainly welcome.
I told him, “That would be great, but I was planning on leaving early. I’m pretty tired.”
“Oh,” he nodded. “Well, do you mind if I ride with you, and I’ll just find another ride home after?”
“Sure, that’s fine with me.”
We walked to my car in silence, and I jangled my keys to fill the space with noise. I started the car, and immediately turned down the radio. “So, what’s up, Cade?”
He fidgeted with his seatbelt. Nervous. He didn’t answer my question, but instead asked, “How are things with Garrick?”
Frowning, I pulled out of the parking lot, watching him from the corner of my eye. “Why?”
“I’m sorry. Is that weird? I didn’t mean for it to be weird, I was just trying to be friendly.”He looked so uncomfortable. How had we been reduced to this?
I said, “It’s not weird, Cade. I’m sorry. I’m just . . . a little cautious is all. Things are great, actually.”
He nodded, “Good. That’s good.”
After spending so much time with Garrick, I’d forgotten what it was like to deal with guys who didn’t just say what they were thinking.
“Just tell me what you want to talk about, Cade. Whatever it is, it’s fine.”
He took a deep breath. He was still nervous, but he was no longer fidgeting. “I have a question, but I’m pretty sure it’s prying, and I just don’t want to cross any lines.”
“Cade, I know things have been difficult. But I still consider you one of my best friends. I want you to be one of my best friends again. Ask me anything.”
“Are you guys staying together after we graduate?”
My gut reaction was, “Yes.” Even though we hadn’t really talked about it, not in so many words. We’d implied it, sure, with the whole ‘one month’ thing, but we hadn’t really had that conversation for real.
“Are you staying here? Or moving to Philly? Or somewhere else?”
I pulled into the parking lot, using searching for a space as an excuse to collect my thoughts. That was definitely not a conversation we’d had, no matter how much I had thought about it.
“Why do you ask?”
He ruffled his hair, and I resisted the urge to say, ‘Just spit it out already!’
“Well . . . I applied to a grad school a few months ago before . . . well . . . before everything. And I hadn’t really thought I would go, but I got in, and now I’m thinking I might actually like it.”
“Really? That’s great, Cade!”
“It’s Temple, in Philly.”
“Oh.” That was the school where Garrick had studied.
“And I just wasn’t sure if the two of you were going to be in Philly, and if you thought it would be weird for me to be there, too. And if it’s not, I thought maybe we could still . . . you know, hang out. If that’s cool with Garrick.”
An image started to form in my mind of what that life might be like. It was a pretty great thought.
“I don’t know if we’ll be in Philly or not. But if we are . . . no, it won’t be weird. And yes, we’ll hang out. And Garrick can be cool or not cool with it; he doesn’t decide what I do. I meant what I said, Cade. I really do want us to be friends again.”
He smiled, relaxed in his seat, finally. “Me too.”
C
ADE WASN’T THE
only one thinking about the future. At SideBar, we did our fair share of celebrating and drinking and eating, but the talk soon turned sentimental. We shared memories of our first shows, classes we’d had together, parties that had gone horribly wrong. Rusty suggested we could have another make-out party, and he was pelted with napkins and bits of paper and even a hot roll.
Just like with theatre—life sometimes has perfect moments when the stars all align, and you’re exactly where you want to be with great people, doing exactly what you want to do.
Leaving college seemed impossible.
I had never been happier than the four years I’d spent here. I looked around the table as people laughed and screamed (we only had one volume— really, loud). These people were my family. They understood me and knew me in ways that no one else did.
I couldn’t imagine my life without them.
“Uh-oh! Tears alert!” Kelsey cried, “Bliss is getting weepy!”
I wiped at my eyes, and embarrassingly, she was right.
“Shut up! I just love you guys, okay?”
Kelsey’s arms enfolded me first, then Rusty, then Cade, and then I lost count.
Rusty said, “Stop acting like we don’t have a month left together. I don’t know about you guys, but I have one hell of a college bucket list that I need you guys to help me fulfill. Starting with getting super drunk on my last opening night. So, let’s get started.”
I ate and drank, just listening to the stories and conversations around me, soaking it all up. Life was good, and if I had my way, it was about to get even better.
It was harder than I thought it would be to excuse myself after dinner was over. Not because I was nervous about what I planned to do tonight, I actually felt good about that, but because I didn’t want to leave my friends.
It was a funny thing to miss people before you’d even left them, but that’s what I was feeling now.
A little bit of melancholy stayed with me all the way out of the bar and into my car. But it didn’t take long for it to disappear in light of where I was heading. I didn’t text Garrick when I was on my way like I’d told him I would, because I wanted some time to get things ready.
I took a quick shower, and then left my hair loose to dry curly, because Garrick liked it that way. It made me think of that night at the club, and my heart beat faster just at the memory.
I found the Victoria’s Secret bag in the back of my closet that held the lingerie I’d bought specifically with this night in mind. I slipped it on, trying to imagine again exactly what Garrick might think or feel when he saw me.
Looking in the mirror, I felt sexy, like he’d always said I was. I slipped back on the dress I’d worn after the show, not wanting to give anything away just yet. I tidied up my room, made sure there were condoms in the bedside table, and then took a seat on my bed.
I was doing this.
I was
really
doing this.
I was going to have sex with Garrick . . . tonight.
Something bubbled up in my chest. At first I thought it was nerves, but then I recognized it. It was the same kind of feeling I got when I first found out I’d been cast as Phaedra and then again when the show had gone so well. It was something beyond excitement, something better.
Because I could, I hopped up on my bed, and jumped. It felt good so I did it again. I flailed my arms because it seemed like the right thing to do, and then I covered my face with my hands and let out the quietest scream I could manage.
“What are you doing?”
Garrick was at the foot of my bed, an amused grin unfurled on his face. I squeaked and plopped back on to the bed.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I saw your car outside, so I came over. I didn’t realize you’d already started the party without me. I take it you’re excited about how the show went tonight?”
I climbed off the bed as gracefully as I could (meaning with zero grace at all). I should have expected something like this. It seemed I was incapable of having an intimate moment with Garrick without doing something supremely embarrassing. At least this time it happened at the beginning.
“The show was great, but I’m glad to be home.” I put a hand on his chest and he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.
“You were great tonight, and now I get to have you all to myself.”
I hadn’t really thought about the best way to approach what I wanted to do tonight. I’d thought about the lingerie and the condoms and the probable pain, but not so much the “Hey, I’m ready to have sex” talk.
I mean, he was a guy, so I doubted very much he’d care about how I told him, but still . . . I wanted it to be right.
“How was the celebration?” he asked.
“Good, really good. I’m going to miss everyone when we graduate. It’s a little crazy to think that’s only a month away.”
“One month.” He smiled, and leaned down for a kiss.
I think he meant for the kiss to be quick, but I didn’t really give him a choice in the matter. I looped my arms around his neck to keep him down at my level, and pressed my lips more firmly against his. He hummed lightly, and the vibrations tingled my lips. His hand curled around my ribcage, and I wanted it higher, farther in. I wanted him touching me everywhere.
When he was taking too long, I opened my mouth and traced the seam of his lips with my tongue. He let me in, and the taste of him was as addicting as always. With each brush of his tongue against mine, I felt more certain.
I pulled my arms down from his neck, and slipped a hand underneath his shirt, pressing my fingertips into his back. His hands remained in safe places, my ribs and my neck, but I felt them twitch and tighten slightly at the skin to skin contact.
He kept kissing me . . . slowly, safely.
I slipped my other hand beneath his shirt, feeling the ridges of his abs, up to his chest. I hoped he would take the hint and move his own hand accordingly.
He didn’t.
Frustrated, I shifted him slightly until my bed pressed at the back of his knees and then I pushed. He sank on to the bed, and I wasted no time climbing on to his lap, pressing against him in much the same way I had that first night we’d almost had sex.
“Bliss,” He whispered. It was almost a warning, but not quite there yet.
I should probably tell him what I wanted, but the way he was kissing me, or more aptly the way he wasn’t kissing me made me feel unsure, desperate. He still wanted me. It told myself that. And I believed it. Mostly. I just needed a little more reassurance.
I pulled back, and waited for his eyes to open, for him to watch me. When his eyes met mine, they were a bit too clear, too focused for my liking. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress. He made a noise in his throat when I started pulling it up, but I didn’t stop until I had it up and over my head. At first his eyes stayed resolutely on mine, but when I leaned forward, taking care to brush my chest against his, he looked down.
His intake of breath was exactly what I’d been looking for.
The strapless black bra was so tight that I had possibly the best cleavage I had ever or will ever have. And the panties, well, you could barely call them that.
“Bliss,” This time, there definitely was a warning tone. “You’re overestimating my self-control.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I estimated your control perfectly.”
I leaned forward until I was pressed tightly against his hips. My lips hovered over his, waiting for him to kiss me. I was done being on the offensive. It was his turn to come to me.
As always, the anticipation alone was enough to do me in. His gaze darted between my eyes and my mouth, and now that I was down to only lingerie, his hands met my skin no matter where he put them. One was currently scalding my lower back, and other was fisted in my hair. I rocked my hips against him, and his hand in my hair tightened.
“Bliss.” His response was choked, like he was in pain.
I smiled. This was kind of fun.
“Garrick,” I returned, eyes wide and as innocent as I could make them.
“This is the opposite of slow.”
I exhaled, swaying forward so that my bottom lip barely grazed his. I rubbed against him, grinding at the slowest pace I could. I said, “I think we’ve gone slow enough.”
The arm at my back pulled me in more, until my chest pressed against his. He still had a shirt on. I wanted it gone.
“What does that mean?” Ah, there was that look I loved—dark, a bit unfocused.
“It means,” I said as my hands found the bottom of his shirt, “That I’m done going slow.”
I pulled, and his arms followed automatically, allowing me to pull the shirt over his head before his hands went right back into their previous positions. Our chests met, skin sliding against skin, and he groaned. He said, “I’m going to need you to be very clear about what you’re saying right now, Bliss.”
All right, it was time to just say it. And no euphemisms like beast with two backs or horizontal tango or anything ridiculous. Sex. If I was going to have it, I could sure as hell say it. I leaned in and kissed him for courage. To hell with making him come to me. That took too long. When I pulled back, his lips tried to follow. I appeased him with another quick kiss and said, “Make love to me?”
Everything about him tensed—his hands on me, his gorgeous face, and his body beneath mine.
“Bliss, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do for me.”
“What about tonight has felt like I was being forced to do anything? In fact, I feel a little like I’m forcing you.”
His lips crushed against mine—teeth and tongues and heat. It was just enough to make me shake with want, and then it was over.
Garrick was panting when he replied, “You’re not forcing me to do anything. I just want you to be sure. You can say stop at anytime.” His lips pulled wide. “You don’t need to make up a new pet.”
That grin . . . it was so infuriating and sexy at the same time.
I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed away, standing up. “If you’re going to keep trying to talk me out of it . . .”
I hadn’t even taken one full step away before he’d grabbed me, and spun so that my back hit the mattress. My breath left my lungs in a rush, and the sight of him prowling above me made heat curl low in my belly.
“I wasn’t trying to talk you out of anything. I was trying to be a gentleman.”
Huh. He’d tried to pull the gentleman card that first night, too. He was still hovering over me, and I looped my fingers into the belt loops on his jeans, and tugged him down on top of me.
“Do me a favor? Be a gentleman tomorrow?”
I was fairly certain he said, “Yes Ma’am,” but then he was kissing me, and I couldn’t care less.