Page 48 of You Spin Me

I’m a working actress. That’s the dream I’ve pinned everything on; there’s no way I’m risking my heart just when things are falling into place.

I listened to Romeo “seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death” too many times last summer to avoid the lesson that love is nothing but dangerous.

Somehow,I manage to get through the rest of my day without obsessing further. A challenging dance class with my favorite teacher consumes my focus and whips my butt. Over a late lunch, a couple of women from class distract me with their own dramas.

On the drive up to Chichester, I listen to a mixtape I put together to get me in the mood for the show. I should probably make another one for the drive back if I’m going to stop listening to Cal on the radio.

After my vocal warmup, the show’s dresser braids my hair. A careful application of makeup and donning my first costume completes the Prudence mask as well as the preshow ritual that gets me in the headspace to perform this wacky play.

We make it through the dress rehearsal with only a handful of technical mishaps. The director’s notes for me are all reasonable and fixable, so I should be over the moon that everything’s going well. I’m only staying overnight in Chichester over the weekends, so on the way back to Boston, I try to think about career plans, like a mailing I can do if reviews are good for the play.

Despite my best efforts, I listen to Cal as I drive. When I hit the Mass Pike, I have to force my car to drive to my apartment in Allston instead of continuing on to the station. Showing up and demanding to see Cal is not the way to stay focused on my work.

I should really end this thing—call him, tell him that with my schedule changing, it won’t work for me to call anymore. Which is true. We have preview tomorrow and opening Thursday. I need to sleep at night, not talk on the phone with a man who’s probably manipulating me.

After I dial the station number and make small talk with the volunteer, I repeatI do not need a man in my lifeover and over in my mind as I wait for Cal to pick up.

“Jess? Were you talking to me?”

His voice in my ear instead of on the radio startles me back to the present. Guess I was saying that mantra out loud. “Um. No. Well, yes. Listen. So, after the show opens, my schedule will be different. I won’t be making the long drive home at night anymore.”

“Oh. When does that happen?”

“This Friday.”

“Well, but you could still call.”

He sounds like I’m taking away his favorite toy. But I am not a toy. I am a successful career woman. “I could. But I don’t think I want to. I think this—whatever this is—has played out for me.”

“What are you—Dammit. Hang on. Please don’t go yet. I have to read this commercial, but I’ll be back.”

When he returns, tears are streaming down my face, but I do not let them color my voice. “I can’t keep doing this, Cal.”

“I get that your schedule’s changing, but—“

“If you wanted to meet in person, I would consider it. After my show opens. But I’m not interested in being your—I don’t know—your latest distraction. I can’t afford distractions.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean you keeping me at a distance tells me that you’re hiding something. And I don’t need drama in my life. I get that enough at work.”

“Is this because I played our conversation last week?”

“No.” I wish I had a script to keep this conversation on track. “Well, maybe. It did kind of wake me up to how weird this is.”

“If we meet, you won’t want to see me again.” His voice sounds like he’s a million miles away.

“How do you know that?”

“I speak from experience.”

“You mean every girl you pick up from the listener line drops you once she meets you in person? You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Can’t we just do this for a while longer?”

The raw need in his voice pulls at my heart, so I ratchet up the logic. “Cal. I’m sorry, but if you really think I’m the kind of person who’ll judge you for—I don’t even know what—then why would you want to keep talking to me?”

“You won’t like what you see.”

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