Cam was sitting with Jeff in the same row as our parents. Bo manned the video camera in back; he gave a dignified nod when our eyes met. To my right sat Arden, Lydia, and Terry, the latter of whom didn’t seem to mind Jasper’s whispered commentary. Mrs. Larios would be there soon, to help Doug serve the pastelitos at intermission. The two of them were talking about seeing the show together a different night.
All the principals were accounted for—except the one I most wanted to see. Maybe this was my bittersweet denouement. The chastened young woman facing the future with her friends at her side, sadder but wiser in the wake of life’s travails.
A spotlight flared to life and Van strode confidently toward the center of the stage. She was wearing her I’m-the-director outfit: slim black pants and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. The paisley scarf was a new touch; I suspected Phoebe’s influence. After running through the standard litany of thank-yous and warnings about cell phones, she paused, hands steepled in front of her, until she’d captured everyone’s attention.
“It’s my pleasure to announce a change to the program. Tonight, the role of Iago will be played by the one and only Adeline Porter-Malcolm.” Scattered whoops and hollers greeted the news, gradually building to a sustained round of applause.
Arden poked me in the shoulder. “Did you know?”
I shook my head. No wonder Addie had been so cheerful of late. She’d found the courage to stand up for what she wanted, and now her dreams were coming true. It was nice to know that worked out for some people.
After Van left the stage, the spotlight winked out, plunging the theater into darkness. The twins said this was one of their favorite moments of any production: the dividing line between regular life and the heightened reality of the stage, when everyone held their breath, balanced on the knife-edge of anticipation.
The velvet seat shook beneath me. Someone had dropped into the empty place at my side.Don’t get your hopes up,I cautioned myself.
“Alex?” I whispered, taking a chance.
“Merrily.”
I closed my eyes. He was here. And he’d called me Merrily. My hands gripped the armrests to keep my body from puddling on the floor.
“Glasses.” His voice was low, barely audible over the crinkling of programs and squeaking of springs. At first, I thought I must have misheard.
“What?”
“I got an eye infection, so I couldn’t wear my contacts, but I was too cool for glasses.” He paused. “If I acted like you were invisible, it was because I couldn’t see past the end of my nose.”
A few seconds passed before my brain caught up. He was talking about that day years ago, when he’d looked right through me backstage and I’d been so sure he was giving me an epic brushoff. “So you weren’t being fickle,” I said slowly. “It was just vanity.”
“Exactly. You should definitely put that in my next love letter. I could get into this whole literary girlfriend thing.”
I turned to face him as faint lighting began to illuminate the stage. It was just bright enough for me to see the smile playing about his lips. With the kind of reckless abandon that would surely have led to my imminent death in a nineteenth-century novel, I leaned in and kissed him.
It was a little disconcerting when the entire audience broke into applause, until I realized that Roderigo and Iago had just made their entrance. My eyes went immediately to Addie. Her mustache was much more convincing this time.
“So what’s the deal?” Alex murmured in my ear.
“You mean with us?” It surprised me he was asking to define our relationship. I’d been led to believe modern men were commitment-shy.
He tipped his head at the stage. “The play. I only know the basics.”
“Like the part where my sister conspires to get your sister murdered?
“Yeah.” He reached for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Outstanding first date, Merrily. Very on-brand. Who needs happy endings, am I right?”
Me,I thought, squeezing his hand.
Only not endings, because this didn’t have the feel of a finale. The shivery, hopeful, heart-pounding certainty that something good was about to happen: It was like starting a new book, with countless pages left to turn. Except better, because this time I didn’t have to imagine myself into the story. It was all happening to me, right now, each moment indelible as ink on paper.
For once I wasn’t worried about trying to predict how everything would turn out. There was a lot to be said for the unexpected adventures that happened along the way. A twist of fate. A lucky break. The part of a tale everyone recognizes as
THEENDBEGINNING
