Page 126 of Rebel Romeo

My dad cheating.

The man my mother claims I will someday become.

And Katherine, the girl she claims she once was.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and instead of answering my dad’s call, I looked at the text thread with Katherine.

She’d sent five last night.

Five texts that I didn’t answer.

They were innocuous. Just simple: Hey. Miss you. When can I see you? Are you nervous for tomorrow?

And I couldn’t fucking bring myself to answer any of them while I was at the away game a couple cities over.

It’d only been a week and I was already a shitty boyfriend.

I was already proving my mom right.

We opened the show in less than a week. McCay was calling it a ‘soft open’ since we were also doing the Kennedy Center thing. A preview for students, friends, and family and apparently some other professionals who needed to approve the show before it went to DC. And today we were doing something called Tech Sunday.

A grueling, long day that involved makeup and costumes and lighting and sound and all sorts of other shit I didn’t realize went into a live performance.

I was nervous as hell as I opened the door and walked into the theater.

It was empty.

Which wasn’t a surprise since I was an hour early to rehearsal.

Swallowing hard, I crossed to the stage and walked up to the center spot where an X was marked with glow tape. I lowered to sit, crossing my legs to try to stop the quaking of my thigh muscles.

I was so fucking edgy that I was actually shaking. I’d never been this nervous in my life. Never for any game or the LSATs or even any date. Hell, I wasn’t even this nervous before I kissed Katherine.

I opened my wallet, pulling out the cigarette that I’d promised never to smoke and rolled it between my fingers, breathing like Katherine had taught me.

In, two, three, four… hold, two three, four… out, two, three, four.

Over and over, I repeated her breathing exercises.

I imagined that bubble, that stupid fucking bubble lifting me off the ground and taking me out of this theater. Away from this life. Away from politics and the affairs and alcoholism.

Meanwhile, the crunch of the tobacco in the paper wrapped cigarette brought me comfort. Grounded me.

If I could quit smoking for a week, I could do anything.

When I opened my eyes, McCay was standing in front of me and I shouted, I was so startled.

I actually shouted like a fucking child who’d just seen a spider and I leapt to my feet. “What the fuck!” I yelled. “You scared the shit out of me.”

McCay nearly lifted an eyebrow, clearly not impressed with my outburst. “Yeah. I got that.”

I looked around the theater, not seeing anyone else here yet, so I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets.

“This department is one of the most prestigious theater programs on the East Coast. Maybe even the country.”

I blinked. Huh? “Okay,” I said slowly.

“We only take twenty new freshmen yearly. And of those twenty, half get cut before their second year.”

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