“Huh?”
That gets a chuckle from the audience. He blushes, even beneath his makeup, and repeats, “The honorable lady of the house, which is she?”
And I answer, “Speak to me, I shall answer for her. Your will?”
This is the most Liam’s spoken to me since we broke up. And the way he’s looking at me, I don’t know if it’s acting or if he really sees someone beautiful when he looks at me. I’m not sure I want to know.
***
My heart is pounding, but I think I’m actually having fun. I haven’t done this since middle school, and I’d forgotten how amazing it is: the audience’s emotions feeding me, the lights twinkling like stars high above, the feel of the stage beneath my feet. It’s terrifying and glorious and there’s nothing else like it. My body is flooded with adrenaline and there are times I forget who I am.
At intermission, Madison tucks a bottle of water into my hand. I’m sweating in the dress, and along my hairline, and the back of my neck. Even my underwear is chafing. I press the bottle against the back of my neck and against my pulse points.
“Drink,” they say. “Hydrate or die-drate.”
“Huh?” Maybe I heard them wrong. “Thanks.”
“You did good out there.”
I shake my head, but I can’t fight the smile.
“Thanks.”
Liam’s last scene had him exiting stage right, but I’m backstage left. Act III starts with our next scene together: the one where Olivia confesses her love.
And it’s like I poured the water bottle all over myself.
How am I supposed to do this?
Before I know it, Laken is calling places for the second half, and the lights are dimming, and Peyton is leading me back onstage. Everyone elseexeunts, and then it’s just Cesario and Olivia.
Liam and me.
50
When he takes my hand to kiss it, I do a whole body shiver, because I remember those hands. His perfect hands. Holding mine. Playing with my hair. Demonstrating how to improve my front crawl. Curling around the steering wheel of his shitty brown car. Resting on my knee as we sat together in TJ’s, memorizing his scenes.
I flub my next line and try to recover, but the adrenaline is gone. Instead there’s weight pressing down on me. Guilt gnawing at my stomach.
Liam gave me his heart, and I wasn’t careful with it. I was selfish and I was cowardly and I hurt him.
And yet here we are again. And I’m the one giving him my heart. But Cesario doesn’t love Olivia, and he never will. That’s not how the play goes.
The tears that spring to my eyes are very real as I plead, “I would you were as I would have you be.”
And Liam answers, his voice raised, “Would it be better, madam, than I am? I wish it might, for now I am your fool.”
He hasn’t moved, but I feel like he slapped me.
I made a fool of him. I lied to him and I hurt him and I’d do anything to take it back.
I blink and the tears pooling in my eyes start to slide down my cheeks. Liam’s mouth opens in surprise.
I’ve got another line, I’m sure of it, but it’s gone. My whole mind is blank. No lines, no blocking, no lists. Just the boy I still love.
This is not how the show goes. But I step forward and take his hands. This definitely isn’t in the script. I don’t remember what’s in the script.
Liam clears his throat and says, “My lady?”
