Page 128 of Bump and Run

I jolt at Mr. Young’s fierce growl, counting down the seconds until I can say my theatre education is officially over. “Mr. Young, I am so sorry—”

He stops in front of me but his eyes instantly lock on Junior. “What happened? Who the hell are you?”

I swallow the fear down. “Sir, I can explain—”

“You have quite the stage presence, young man,” he says, glancing Junior up and down. “I can’t say you chose the best of moments to showcase your abilities but I appreciate tenacity when I see it.”

Junior blinks. “Thanks?”

Young turns to me. “You kept it together up there, Eliza. I like an actress that can handle a curve ball.”

I heave a thick sigh. “Thank you, sir.”

“Let’s make sure tomorrow’s shows go just as smoothly, everybody!” he says, addressing the entire crew. “And can we please lock the back doors next time?”

Young wanders off and I spin towards the dressing rooms before Junior can grab me again.

“Ellie—”

“Go away, Junior,” I snap, holding back every tear I have left in me. “I told you we couldn’t see each other anymore.”

“Don’t I have a say in that?”

I push the door closed behind me but he throws it open to follow me in. “No. I said it and I meant it and no amount of gesturing is going to change my mind.”

Junior furrows his brow. “Is that a theatre thing? I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Get out.”

“No.” He stands up a little taller. “I said that unrealistic, crappy dialogue to you but I meant every word of it. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. I love you, Ellie.”

“Junior, you…” I inhale deep, feeling the sharp stab of guilt in my gut. He has no idea what he’s getting into because I was too much of a coward to tell him. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

“I know,” he whispers.

I shake my head. “No, Junior. I really have—”

He takes a long stride towards me and kisses me but that just makes me feel even worse.

“I know, Ellie.” He grabs my hand and entwines our fingers together with a tight grip.

I look into his eyes and my breath catches in my throat. “You know?”

“I know,” he nods. “And I love you.”

“How do you know?”

He hesitates. “Your dad told me.”

My face falls. “Why did he…?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says, nudging my chin up to make me look at him.

“Wait—” I look at his outfit. “Why aren’t you at the game?”

Junior pauses but his touch on me never ceases. “He wanted me to choose so I made a choice.”

My eyes fill with tears. “Junior, no—”

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