Page 95 of Yours, Unexpectedly

I end my rambling speech and stare down at my clasped hands. Elaine clears her throat and I look up to see a tear falling down her cheek. Her hand comes over the top of mine as she says, “You are an important part of this family, mon chou. And you always will be. Always remember that, yes?”

I’m doom-scrolling in bed several hours later when I hear the front door open. I pop up and run into the living room, sliding on my socks, Risky Business style, to greet Gabe.

“I need your help with something.”

“I’m in,” he replies, no questions asked.

Shit. I shouldn’t have come with Gabe to Anders’ show.

His singing voice is really nice.

“I need your guys’ help!” I say by way of greeting the following Monday after class. I’m actually surprised to find both Luci and Riz home at this time of day. “Wait. What are you both doing here?”

“Nothing!” they respond in unison, which is even more suspicious, but I don’t have time for that today.

I shrug my backpack off and drop it by the door. “Whatever. We got our final assignments today in Intro to Acting. We have to do a scene with a partner, and I may or may not have talked Professor Callahan into giving me a scene that would help convey everything I want to say to Anders.”

God, just saying his name still hurts. There’s been a gaping chasm in my chest for the last two weeks, but it’s also been so helpful to reorient myself after everything happened. Ever since Anders’ mom took my side in the most Alice Olsson version of taking sides, I’ve been holding myself back from running straight to Anders. Because that’s exactly what I’ve wanted to do.

I miss him in a visceral way. In the way the palms of my hands tingle if I think about him for too long. In the way I’ve had to constantly remind myself to relax my shoulders, letting out the tension. In the way I can feel my body aching for his nearness—the comfort only he can provide.

Okay, and I miss the mind blowing orgasms only he can provide too. Sue me.

Riz cuts me off from that particular train of thought. “I’m confused about how we can help you with that.”

“Well, for one, I am definitely going to need help memorizing my lines because Shakespeare is really fucking hard. And two, I’m going to need your help getting him to the theater.”

“We’re in,” Luci replies, doing a giddy little jump.

Acting is surprisingly difficult. Luci and Riz have helped me memorize lines all week, and I’ve also been meeting with my scene partner, Grant, who has become one of those in-class friends you have but will probably never see again. He is exceptionally good at interpreting The Bard, making my feeble attempt to act that much easier.

Our final performance is this morning, and even though it’s only in front of our classmates, butterflies have erupted in my stomach. Mainly because I finally get to see Anders. And also because I have to recite my lines in front of real, live people.

It’s a healthy mix of both.

I’m sitting in my normal seat, coffee presumably left by Anders is warming my hands—I’m not sure if more caffeine is a good idea right now, but I’ll take what I can get. He’s felt close these last few weeks, even though I haven’t actually seen him, and I think in large part that’s due to the little ways he’s still showing up.

I look around the black box theater, hoping Luci and Riz were able to get Anders here today. Unfortunately, I don’t see him. I don’t see Grant, either, which is slightly concerning.

We picked our performance order out of a hat and Grant and I are supposed to go last.

The first group goes, and it’s actually not terrible, making my nerves ramp up, which continues with each subsequent scene.

By the time the second to last pair walk onto the stage, I’m practically cataclysmic, my hands are shaking so bad. Grant is nowhere to be found and neither is Anders.

Maybe I read this totally wrong. Maybe Anders couldn’t come today.

Maybe he didn’t want to.

I’m this close to breaking down when Professor Callahan turns his sympathetic gaze toward me.

“Ms. Bardot,” he states. “It’s your turn. Since your scene partner is not here, I will read his lines.”

Shit. Fuck. I have to get up on stage alone?!

My inhale is shaky as I stand and walk down the aisle toward the small black stage. Definitely should have forgone the coffee this morning.

Once I’m on stage, I rock awkwardly back and forth. We chose a scene from Much Ado About Nothing and Benedick has the first line. I’m staring at Callahan, silently begging for him to put me out of my misery and begin already, when a voice comes from behind me.

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