Beatless (15 page)

I closed the laptop.

And with that final nail in the coffin, I closed my heart, too.

Mal,

The world is full of really awful things. It’s one of the reasons I don’t watch the news. I’d rather keep it safe and repeat the same movies over and over again. I know how they end. Most of the time. Sometimes they surprise me because I’ve forgotten and I get the chance to fall in love with them and experience it all over for the first time again.

It occurred to me that I don’t have any first times left. Well, I have one first left. But I envy that about you. You have so many firsts that are going to come along. Take a chance to stop and enjoy each one. Like they say, today is the youngest you’ll ever be. But it’s not the best it will ever be. That’s to come.

Your life is spread out before you like one of those maps that your grandma used to keep in her car because we didn’t have a GPS or a smart phone to get us to our destination. She’d have to follow red lines. Black ones. Look for lakes and alternate routes. That was the adventure - not knowing where we’d end up, but confident that, even if it wasn’t where we were headed, it would be somewhere.

I have no idea where your future is going to take you. But I hope you have nothing but red and black lines to lead you there. And that your eyes are wide open, even if the destination doesn’t match your original intent. Because even though the world has a lot of awful in it, there’s beauty, too. If we just take a second to see it.

Sam

~*~14~*~

Some of the Plastic Hearts cast members started eating dinner after rehearsals, and once I was asked to join, I didn’t look back. I kept everyone at arms’ length, unsure of whether I wanted to get involved. They were all great in their own way. I just wasn’t invested.

Mercy Horowitz had been cast as the younger me: Girl. It was kind of weird how much we looked alike. She was a sophomore at Brookwood and was cast due to how young she appeared. Her audition was so impressive that they didn’t want anyone else. And that reminded me of Lassiter. I just hoped Mercy was a nicer person and the fame wouldn’t ruin her, too.

The guy who’d been cast opposite me was Landon Pope, an unconventionally attractive guy that was in my Art History class. He sat next to me at the dinners, talking incessantly about his future plans to start in off-Broadway shows and then, once he had a few of those under his belt, he’d go for the big time.

“New York is on my list of places to see.” I bit into my bread and chewed while I mulled it over. “Maybe I’ll get to go, and while I’m there, your name will be up on a marquee.”

He grinned like I’d just said the most amazing thing he’d ever heard. “We’ll keep in touch. I’ll give you my phone number.” I looked away, like my plate was the most fascinating thing in the entire world. “Actually, we should exchange numbers, anyway.”

I glanced up, surprised.

“You know, for the play.”

“Oh, right, of course.” He handed me his phone and I typed in my number. He pressed send and my phone vibrated in my pocket while he waved his phone in my face. “Now you have mine.”

At the next table, I saw Tucker take in the entire exchange. He stood up, pushing his chair back before grabbing his jacket and stomping toward the door.

It shouldn’t have mattered to me.

He had someone else, right?

Of course he did. I’d seen it with my own two eyes.

When Landon walked with me to my car, I gave a short wave, wondering why my chest suddenly felt so tight.

***

We finally received our copies of the music and I concentrated on my one solo and two duets with Landon. Mercy and Reagan, cast as Boy, had one duet. And one song, the finale, was sung by everyone else as Landon and I were to be standing center stage, surrounded by their voices.

I knew, as much as I knew anything, at least two of the songs Tucker had provided for the musical, were directly about me. It was so obvious that it was almost comical. Except it wasn’t funny at all. It was unbearably painful.

What made it easier to swallow was hearing the words coming from someone else’s mouth.

Jotting notes on the margin of my script, I crossed stage left as Bastian had directed. “Walk straight across and stop right in front of him. There, on the X.”

My toes barely grazed the glow in the dark tape.

“Too fast,” came Tucker’s warning from the piano. “Do it again.”

I tried my best not to roll my eyes.

“You have to be in time with the piano. It’s not my fault you’re in a rush to get to him.”

“Asshole,” I muttered and turned to start again. My shoes hit the tape once more and the music stopped.

“Are you even trying?”

“Yes, Mr. Scott, I am. Would you like to come show me exactly how fast or slow you’d like me to be?”

He stood up from behind the piano and I pretended not to have a reaction to him staring at me from beneath the faded stage lights. Sara was sitting next to him, trying not to acknowledge his outburst.

Landon turned from his spot and held up his script. “I think her timing is fine.”

“No one asked you,
Landon
.” Tucker stomped up the stairs and crossed the stage to face me. Taking my wrist he led me back to my original marker. He stepped behind me, placing his hands on my hips. I pursed my lips together to fight the familiar feelings they stirred in my chest.

Sara began the song again and Tucker mimicked the notes, the sounds thick in his throat while he hummed and took a step forward, pushing me from behind. “Like this.”

I allowed him to lead my feet, one in front of the other, across the stage until I was directly in front of Landon again.

“Got it?” Tucker asked. His voice was flat and uncaring.

I shook my head and averted my eyes. “I think we should do it one more time.”

He sighed and walked back over to where we’d started. I crossed too, but this time I faced him. He looked my way and then over my shoulder again.

“Seriously. How long are you going to do this?”

“School’s over in May, right?”

“Stop punishing me for something . . .”

“Turn around and do your part.”

“No.”

He finally looked me in the eye. “You don’t want it? Because we didn’t cast an understudy, but I could find a replacement.”

“Stop. Just
stop
. You won’t even
talk
to me.”

I took in everything about him in that minute between us. How red his ear was. How unkempt his hair had become. How his shirt fit, snug around his arms, tucked haphazardly into the top of his jeans.

“Can’t talk to someone who doesn’t exist, Mallory. You are on this stage to do a part. That’s all.”

“You’re so full of shit,” I hissed, thrusting the script in his face.

He nodded and gazed toward Landon. “Maybe. But I guess you’ll never find out.” Waving his hand, he got Bastian’s attention. “She’s got this. I don’t need to show her again.”

Watching him walk away felt like a punch in the gut every single time.

I crossed to my mark again, careful to move in time to the music that was playing. My mind was swimming, and when I landed on the X, I forgot what the scene even was. So when Landon placed his hands on my neck and dipped his toward mine, I froze.

Because I’d forgotten the kiss.

Was that why Tucker was stalling?

“Wait,” I said hastily, taking a step back.

Landon smiled, staring at my lips. “That’s not your line.”

I nodded quickly and laughed. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. ”

Bastian placed his hands onto the stage and cocked his head. “Take it from the kiss. Mallory, stop looking like you’ve got a massive stick up your ass.” His green eyes were wide, and he was smiling, but I knew he was being serious.

So I shook my shoulders, reset my posture and prepared to let another boy kiss me like he meant it, right there in front of the one I’d once felt everything for. Then when it was over, I shifted to the side to look for Tucker’s reaction . . . but he was nowhere to be found.

***

Landon called almost every night. He claimed that he just wanted to talk about rehearsing, but it felt like there was more to it. I’d heard about people getting involved with their co-stars based solely on the fact that they were always together. That they had to be in intimate situations that forced romantic feelings to suddenly appear. I didn’t feel that way about Landon. And I had so much on my plate, that the thought of starting anything new made me want to pass out and sleep for days. Like Aunt Sam.

He was persistent, though. And on Valentine’s Day he showed just how tenacious he could be.

We’d had another rehearsal, and I was settled into the middle row of the auditorium, feet propped up on the chair in front of me, highlighting a piece of dialogue that I could never get quite right. I heard him before he approached and I smiled, knowing he’d sit down right next to me. He always did. What I did not expect was for him to nudge against my shoulder and produce a light pink rose from behind his back.

“What is
that
for?” I didn’t touch it, I just stared.

“For you?” He was usually a pretty confident guy, but the humiliation on his face almost made me laugh.

“Okay. But why?”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It caught me so off guard, all I could do was grimace. I was flattered, of course. But . . .

“That’s
really
nice, but . . .”

Landon, blonde hair askew across his forehead, handed it to me and then hesitantly placed his hand on my thigh. I just stared at it like it was some alien thing I’d never seen before.

“Listen,” he started; his voice just above a whisper. “I haven’t exactly been vague about how I feel about you.”

“Umm . . . I have no idea what you’re talking about. You call. Talk about plays. I listen. How is that obvious?”

He leaned even closer. “When we kiss . . .”

“Yeah, no. I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you but that’s for . . .”

“You don’t have to say it’s just for the play just because
he’s
here. I know what you did to get the part.”

I stiffened and shot a look Tucker’s way.

He was clearly watching.

“I heard about you two. That you hooked up and then,
whatever
happened, you know?” His hand slipped higher on my thigh and I fought the urge to vomit. His hand wasn’t right. His face was wrong. His smell was off. “
I’d
be better . . .”

I stared ahead at Tucker, gripping the rose in my hand until I was sure the stem would snap. Exhaling with disgust, I turned back to Landon. With as much strength as I could muster, I looped my fingers around his wrist and twisted, pulling his hand from my body.

“I don’t know
what
you
heard
. My relationship with Tucker isn’t anyone’s business. Especially not yours. And I don’t know what you think is happening here, but I’m going to say no thank you, and give this back.” I thrust the rose into his hand and stood, grabbed my purse, and stumbled through the chairs to walk out the auditorium doors. I’d never wanted to violently slap someone so much in my entire life. Knowing that it would probably send me to jail, I collected myself, turned the corner veering into an empty stairwell and slid down the wall to try and compose myself. I would not break. Not today of all days.

The sound of rubber soles echoing down the hall made me shrink back against the cream colored wall. But while I stared at the scuffed up floor, it wasn’t Landon’s Sketchers that stopped short. It was a pair of dirty Chucks that I knew all too well.

“What the hell, Mal? We have a production to work on.”

“Ugh. Please, please,
please
. . . I am
begging
you . . . just leave me alone.
Haven’t you had enough
?”

He dropped to his knees and bounced a little.

I looked away, furious.

“What did Landon say to you?”

“None of your business.”

“I’m serious. Tell me what he said.”

This time he wasn’t waiting for me to be ready. He was demanding answers.

“He said we should get together. That it means something when we kiss on stage. And not to worry about what you thought.” My fists balled up and I pressed them to my knees. “Because he said he’d be better than you.”

“In what way?” It sounded almost threatening.

I finally forced myself to look at him. At his face. In his eyes. “In
every
way.”

If rage had a face - a picture in the dictionary - it would be the anger that Tucker Scott held inside his body. No amount of music therapy would erase that from his chemical makeup. It radiated off him in waves and for one fleeting moment I was sorry I had said anything at all.

I don’t know why I didn’t back away. I don’t know why I reached for him. But I did. And when my hand met his, he blinked a couple times, concentrating on where we were touching. Every old feeling came rushing back in the span of a few seconds and I closed my eyes to center myself, unwilling to get buried under the avalanche.

“How does he know, Tucker?”

The look of surprise on his face confused me. “I don’t know. How would I know? It’s not exactly a secret that we were together for a while. No matter what you want to tell other people.”

“Just stop it. Have you been telling people?” I searched his eyes. “What have you been saying that would make
Landon
of all people think that I’d just drop my panties for the first guy that came along since you?”

Tucker pulled his hand away. “Since me. Yeah. Like I believe that.”

I nodded, angry at his insinuation. “Because I’m that person, right?”

He shrugged and stood back up. “I couldn’t tell you what kind of person you are, Mallory. I don’t even know you.”

“Oh!
Really
? Well that makes two of us. The Tucker I knew months ago would
never
treat me the way you have. Because I know everything about you.
Everything
. And I’ve never said a word to anyone because I know you trusted me enough to keep it a secret. Do you want to talk now? Can we just get this over with so I can stop hating myself?”