Dream Chaser (32 page)

And then, during the love scene my spacing was off and I elbowed Eli in the jaw so hard he fell back and tripped me as he tried to catch his balance. I hit the floor in the most ungraceful fashion.
All in all.
It sucked.

I didn’t hear myself sing. It was all remote control and probably not very good. I kept thinking about Jilly and the cheer squad watching and judging my every move. I’m sure they wanted me to fail, since they didn’t make nationals. I didn’t blame them.

The disastrous excuse for a show was winding down, and the final scene loomed. All night I’d forced it out of my mind as best I could, but as Samantha helped me change into my next costume, I knew there was no more hiding.

“You ready?” she asked as she pulled the dress from the last scene over my head.

“Sure,” I answered, kicking off my shoes and pretending the next scene didn’t terrify me. I couldn’t let anyone know how hard this was.

“Need a pep talk or a shot of whiskey?” She grinned and I could see why Tyson adored her so much.

“Tyson would love that!” I laughed and held my arms up as she pulled the new costume on.

“If there is anything I can do to help you through this, you let me know.” She spoke direct at me as she adjusted the dress. “I’ve faced my own share of ‘issues’ over the years, and I don’t want you to feel alone in figuring this out.”

“Thanks. I think the best plan is to avoid thinking about it until the last second and just do it.” I lifted a foot and she slid on a shoe and buckled it.

“Alright.” She nodded, but said nothing more. I wished she
would’ve
said,
Great plan! You’ll be great! Don’t worry.

But I was worried. Very worried. I kept trying to block it out of my mind. I wanted to cover my ears and say “la
la
la
la
la
la
la
,” like I do when Mom lectures me about the dangers of processed foods.

“You’re all set. Go knock ‘
em
dead.”

As I left the dressing room, my heart pounded heavy exploding beats.

No, I could do this. I would do this. I have to do this.

With only a few seconds before our scene, Jason approached, his forehead creased. “You okay? You going to be able to take the fall?”

“I’m fine,” I snapped and immediately regretted it. He flinched, but said nothing. Jason had always been nice to me. I wanted to apologize, but was too wrapped up in “Willow’s World” to think about anything but my own problems.

The lights came up, and Jerry cued our entrance.

.

The scene was a blur.

I went through the motions, but inside my mind battled my gut. Suddenly Eli, Jason and I were on the rooftop with the fight about to hit its climax.

The bright lights glared. The
sound of the orchestra was drowned out by the eerie pounding of blood through my panicked brain
.

I saw shadowy images of the audience through my haze.

The music built.

I saw the edge.

I saw the open trap in the stage floor below.

My pulse raced.

Jason rushed at me. Eli watched, his character reacting in horror.

This is when I teeter on the edge and then fall to my death.

I moved to the edge.

It was too far.
Too dangerous.
I stepped away from the edge.

Panicked, I turned to Jason and then Eli, whose eyes were wide in a different kind of panic.

“Go!” He seethed between clenched teeth.

I gave the slightest shake of my head.

The music vamped on, the director probably flipping out because we passed the crescendo of where I’m supposed to fall.

I looked back and forth from Jason and Eli again, each of them not knowing what to do.

So I collapsed.

I fell close to the back wall where I couldn’t fall off and get hurt.

Not off the side through the trap to the mat.

I just collapsed in place up on the rooftop right in front of them. What the hell else could I do? I knew I had to die. So I lay there like a dead fish collecting flies.

Confused, Jason stared like I’d lost my mind.

“Stab her,” Eli whispered to Jason.

“What?” he looked at him in disbelief.

“Pretend to stab her!”

Jason came at me. He raised his arm high and with an invisible knife and stabbed me in the heart.

Eli came up behind Jason. Jason turned and fake stabbed him too.

Eli fell on the rooftop floor next to me. Jason eyed us both and then ran off stage. The music hit its high
note,
finished the dramatic last couple notes, and the stage went black.

“Oh my fucking lord! What the hell was that!
”
Eli seethed in the dark.

“I’m sorry,” I said filled with so much regret.

“Sorry? You made a fool out of Jason and me, not to mention you ruined what was supposed to be the climax of the show!”

We got up in the dark to move off stage for the mega mix, which is supposed to happy and joyous.

“I know. I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t,” I cried.

“Tyson asked if you could do this, and you said yes. You could have been honest. You could have ’fessed up and given him a chance to figure something else out.” He took the steps at the back of the set.

“I said I’m sorry. What more do you want?” Tears streaked my face as I followed, stepping on the glow-in-the-dark tape as I went.

Eli stopped and faced me. “Be honest with people for once in your life and stop running or cowering from everything that scares you.”

I couldn’t agree more. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. He huffed and stormed off to change for the Mega Mix.

Back in my dressing room, I fought the tears, put myself on automatic and went through the motions like a robot. Samantha gave me a hug and a little smile that was supposed to make me feel better, but instead told me what a failure I was.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the show.” I choked back a sob.

“
Shh
.” She gave me a big hug. “What’s done is done.” She proceeded to help me into my angelic white finale costume. I gulped air, trying to calm myself down.

“I’ve ruined it for everyone. Tyson’s going to hate me.”

“All set,” she said a minute later. “Tyson won’t hate you. He’s a much better man than that. Now chin up. Go finish the show.”

“Right.”

I pasted on a fake smile and left. I didn’t look at Eli or anyone else for that matter. My bow was a pathetic half-hearted leap that barely got off the ground.

The student filled audience applauded. I didn't know why, as we, no
I,
sucked! The curtain came down, and the cast reacted with a mix of relief it was over and frustration at all the screw-ups.

I approached Eli to test the waters of his mood. I noticed his swollen cheekbone from where I had smacked him during a number. He backed away

“I’m so mad! I can’t even talk to you right now! I have no idea what to say.” He shook his head in a combination of disbelief and frustration. “I
gotta
get out of here.” Eli stormed off stage left.

I went stage right back to my dressing room. Jason grimaced as I trudged by. I let him down and made him look like a fool. “I’m sorry,” I said as I passed.

How many more times did I need to apologize? As I walked past more of the cast, I received silent stares. It felt like the first week of rehearsals all over again.

Thankfully, Samantha wasn’t in my dressing room. She probably went to calm Tyson down after the train wreck he'd just witnessed. I changed and hung up my sweaty costume. Tyson’s voice came over the intercom. “No notes tonight. We all have a lot to think about. Let’s hope everyone got the jitters out of their systems. Go home and get a good night sleep; we have a big day tomorrow.”

I stared at my made-up face in the dressing room mirror. I looked amazing. I almost didn't recognize myself. The make up lady knew her stuff, but behind the artful cosmetics were sad, lonely eyes. I grabbed some wet wipes and washed the fake beauty away. Finally, my normal, scared self looked back.

That girl I knew well.

With nothing left to do, I decided to face the music and go find Tyson. The backstage area was quiet except for Jerry and a couple of stagehands finishing up.

“Hey Jerry, have you seen Tyson?”

“Yeah, he left a few minutes ago for the hospital to check on Sophie.”

“Thanks.” Tyson had more worries than just me, but I’m sure I must be one of his bigger headaches.

Outside, the mild night air reminded me spring was almost here. I decided to walk for a while instead of calling home for a ride. Only occasional piles of snow remained from our stormy winter. They’d become dirty grey piles of ice on the street corners. Walking helped clear my head.

I knew why I couldn’t fall off that ledge, but why did I have to lie and promise I could? Why couldn’t I be honest and admit I couldn’t do it. This was not the girl I wanted to be. I hated being afraid, and lately it seemed I was always afraid of something. Cheerleading, singing, falling, what next?

I reached a large intersection and had to wait for the walk signal. A car pulled up with a bunch of the cheer kids. They must have been cruising around downtown after the show. One of the guys noticed me and pointed and laughed. I tried to look away, but my eyes locked onto Jilly in the back seat. She didn’t laugh. She looked back and gave a small grimace. It’s the most communication I’d had with her in over a month. She saw my misery. She knew me well. The light changed, and the car squealed away.

I didn’t blame them for laughing. Tonight, I embarrassed myself in the show. They witnessed my screw-ups. Plus, they were still ticked off that I quit cheer and they didn’t win State let alone get a shot at Nationals again.

By the time my feet hit our front porch, I knew what I wanted to do. The porch light glowed, and Mom and Dad waited in the candlelit living room.

“Hey
hon
’, how’d it go?” Mom asked the moment I walked in. They were terrible at hiding their concern.

“Horrible. Anything and everything went wrong.”

“Oh no. Like what?” Mom asked.

“Let’s just say between faulty
mics
, missed cues, and my pearl necklace in the nightclub scene breaking and beads rolling all over the stage; it was less than mediocre.”

“Ouch.” She cringed.

“And?” Dad asked, waiting for the inevitable.

“And I didn’t do the fall,” I sighed. “I’m a failure.”

“You are not a failure. Never have been and never will be,” he said.

“Your dad is right,” Mom said. “You work harder to succeed than anyone I know.”

“That’s not true. I failed when I quit cheer, and if I don’t get my shit together I’m going to fail Foods and History.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “How do you fail Foods?”

“Haven’t you seen her cook?” Mom said under her breath.

“Oh, got it. But that’s beside the point.” He refocused. “So what happens next? Is Tyson going to change the ending?”

“Not if I can help it. I think I might have figured out how I can do the fall, but I need to borrow the car. Is that okay?”