Losing It Part 40

"That? No, I'm over it. It really wasn't anything to begin with... just inconvenient."

Something was crumbling inside me, something that had already been vulnerable and weak, but now was breaking and breaking.

"I should have known better. I know, but it's over now, and I don't really care anymore, you know? Yeah, yeah. I'll find another place to work. It's just not worth it."

Not worth it?

I think, until then, I'd still hoped, even though I'd tried to talk myself out of it.

Hope... it was such a motherf.u.c.ker.

I wouldn't cry. He was over it. I needed to be, too. And I needed to make sure he knew it. If he was thinking about quitting to stay away from me, I had to fix that. I wouldn't be the reason he left.

Before I could change my mind, I reached out and knocked on the doorframe, and stepped into the open doorway.

He looked up, and stuttered over whatever he was going to say next. He stared at me for a second, the phone forgotten in his hand.

Then finally, he blinked, and turned back to his conversation.

"Hey, I have to go. I'll call you later, okay?"

I hated whoever was on the other end of that phone call. Was it a girl? Did he have a girlfriend back in Philly? Had it been just a fling for him, just s.e.x (or well, almost s.e.x)? Whoever it was spoke for another twenty seconds while he said yes and okay and nodded along.

When he hung up, I still had no idea what I was going to say.

He just looked at me for a moment, and then said, "How can I help you, Bliss?"

His formal tone made me queasy, but I tried to copy it as best as I could. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior during our rehearsal together. Cade and I have worked everything out-"

He interrupted, "I noticed."

My thoughts stuttered, fleeing for the moment. "So... I, uh, I promise it won't happen again. In the future, I will maintain a professional att.i.tude. I won't bring my personal life into rehearsal or your cla.s.sroom."

He put down the pen he'd been toying with, and started to stand. "Bliss..."

Whatever he was going to say, I couldn't hear it. If I had to listen to him try to let me down easy (when I knew he didn't care), I would end up crying and making a fool of myself. So I cut him off.

"It's okay. I'm over it. No big deal, right?"

He paused and I was certain he knew I was lying, certain he could see into my churning stomach, my wringing heart. I willed him to believe me.

I'm okay. I'm over it. I'm okay. Okay. Okay.

"Right," he finally said.

I sucked in a greedy breath.

"Great. Thanks for your time. Have a nice day!" Then I was out the door and running, running, running down the stairs out into the air where I could gulp and fill my lungs until I no longer felt like crying.

From then on, I built walls with smiles and closed myself off with laughs. I made up with Kelsey, promising her I would go dancing whenever she wanted. I threw myself into rehearsal, memorizing all of my lines over a week before the off-book date. I willed myself into March like a soldier, moving forward, refusing to look back. Eric praised my work in rehearsals, saying he could feel my shame, my self-hatred in every word, could see it in even my posture. I smiled and pretended like I was glad to hear it.

I set my sights on graduation, when I would leave and go who knows where. Maybe I'd max out a credit card and go traveling with Kelsey. Maybe I'd go back home and work, save some money. Mom would just love that. Maybe I'd stay here, get a job at Target or something. I just had to get to the end. Things would get easier then. Then... I would deal. I'd tell Kelsey about everything, and we'd party the pain away. Then.

I couldn't wait for Then.

It seemed possible. It seemed do-able.

Until the Now screwed everything up.

We were one week away from Spring Break-a much needed break. Friday afternoon had us all in the black box theatre for beginning directing scene workshops. The entire department was gathered into the theatre-the Junior directors petrified, everyone else ranged from boredom to s.a.d.i.s.tic glee.

I was just marching forward, willing the time to pa.s.s, until Rusty stood to make an announcement before the first scene.

He cleared his throat, remarkably serious for Rusty. "So... I went to the doctor yesterday..."

"And you're pregnant?" Someone at the back shouted.

"No," He smiled, albeit a small one. "Actually... I have mono."

There was a beat before it sank in.

"The doctor said that the incubation is anywhere between four and eight weeks, which means I could have had it as far back as January or February. So... you might want to be careful about drinking after people and... other things."

January or February. The party. I'd kissed Rusty at that party. We'd all kissed... everyone.

By instinct, my eyes sought out the other members of that spin the bottle game. Their expressions were just as anxious and fearful as my own. If Rusty was already contagious back then, that meant I would have it, along with Cade, and Kelsey and Victoria, and every person at that party.

And Garrick.

d.a.m.n.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I caught up to him as soon as the scenes were over. Actors milled about still in their costumes. Professors congratulated their students, and everyone gravitated toward their groups, making plans for the weekend. Everyone else seemed calm and happy, and I felt like the world was ending. Walking toward Garrick was up there with walking into a room filled with anthrax.

But I did it anyway.

Luckily, he wasn't talking to anyone, just checking something on his phone. I stood behind him for a few moments. Just being this close to him affected me. It really was like a poison. I breathed him in, and I could feel it breaking down the walls and protection I'd built.

I don't know if I made a noise or if he felt me behind him, but he turned and looked at me. For a split second, I thought he would smile. Then his expression changed, and he became wary. Like he didn't trust me. Then his face went blank.

I had all these emotions and memories pus.h.i.+ng against my barricades, trying to spill out into the open. He looked like he couldn't care less.