Page 42 of Taking Care of You
Ethan and I walk from backstage, and Ethan describes the play to the class, while I stand nervously at his side, tryingnot to fidget. “Celine Hyland comes from a wealthy family that treats her like she’s property and they’re preparing to arrange a marriage that is financially beneficial to both families. Antoine Greaves is the son of the longtime butler that resides in-house with the Hyland’s. They’ve been friends since they were kids and fall in love over time. Their parents find out and forbid them from being together. Since their parents forbid it, they run away, faking their deaths to be together. A bit morbid, but they’re in love, so...” Ethan shrugs, looks at me and smirks, grabbing my hand. “Creep…sorry,” he says when I glare at him, “Jakobywas kind enough to make copies of the script for everyone to read along if you want to.”
“Show off!” Ryder shouts, making everyone laugh, and my face flames. Ethan laughs it off easily.
He counters with, “Ryder, you can barely read, so maybe just listen so you don’t miss anything.” There are few ‘oohs’ from some people and more laughter. Ryder shoots him the bird with a grin, since Mr. Redding has his back to him, making Ethan laugh more.
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Mr. Redding says, getting the students to quiet down. “We’re ready when you are.”
We hustle off stage, and Mitch and Elle take our places. And they’re phenomenal. I know we’ve been watching them rehearse for weeks, but it’s so much different now. I think, because Mitch is on an actual stage, he’s channeling his character more and it shows. I can almost feel the love Antoine has for Celine. It radiates from every word he utters to her, every gesture and every stolen moment.
And Elle. Sheesh, Elle is eating it up and giving it right back. Her shy demeanor when they reveal their love and her fierce objection to being without him almost has me tearing up.
When it’s time for the kiss, Mitch laces their fingers together and draws Elle into him. In the play, time has jumped fifty years,them faking their deaths a success, and they have been happily married and have kids and grandkids.
In a voice that sounds impossibly older, more gruff and full of emotion, he asks her, “Celine, do you regret leaving with me, my love?”
Elle gives him a shy smile, staring at him adoringly. “My only regret is not leaving sooner.”
Mitch places a hand behind her back and pulls her in, his lips meeting hers in a soft, gentle kiss that couldn’t have been more perfect than if they’d practiced it every day. The way Elle leans into him and how he holds her close, theyareAntoine and Celine. They are a couple that ran away together, got married, had kids and a wonderful life, even when it was just them. They are our Romeo and Juliet, if they had lived.
The applause from the class snaps them out of their kiss and Mitch and Elle separate, both of them slightly out of breath, and their cheeks have matching blushes. Mitch hasn’t let Elle go from the embrace, even though the play is over. And they haven’t taken their eyes off each other. I almost hate to interrupt, but we have to get our critique from Mr. Redding.
Ethan and I walk onto the stage and stand beside our actors, who finally break apart and bow to the audience.
Once the clapping has stopped, Mr. Redding says, “That was amazing. Mitch and Elle really brought your play to life. I love the twist on the classic Romeo and Juliet story. True love does conquer all. Great job, all of you.”
My cheeks heat, of course, feeling hot all over from the attention and the praise. Ethan has an easy smile and rubs my shoulders in a comforting way. Mitch and Elle walk hand in hand off the stage, heading back to their classes, since they were only excused to participate in our play.
We sit down and watch the rest of the presentations, but none were as good as ours. I’m not saying it to be cocky, but weput in a lot of work and got really good actors to bring it to life. I think ours might be the best in the class. Ethan obviously agrees. He leans over before we’re dismissed from class and says, “We easily got the highest grade. Ours was the best.”
I elbow him lightly. “Don’t say that,” even though I was thinking it.
“What?” he shrugs. “It’s true. Everyone knows it, creep.”
I roll my eyes and pack my things so we can head to my next class.
Walking down the hall is different now. People actually speak to me and call me by name when they say hello. After two months of fake dating Ethan, I guess people are seeing it’s not a phase and are treating me how they would treat him. It’s upsetting that it takes him being my boyfriend to get respect, but it’s high school. I can’t expect maturity, I guess. I’ve been mature for far longer than I’ve wanted to be, so the whole high school vibe is tiring.
“Hey, creep,” one of the football players, Preston, says to me, jokingly. He’s standing at the door when Ethan and I walk up. It’s no secret that’s what Ethan calls me. He practically shouts it when he sees me from down the hall sometimes.
He’s always so extra.
Before I get a chance to correct him, to tell him that no one but Ethan can call me that, even as a joke, Ethan beats me to it. “Don’t call him a creep again.” His voice takes on that low growly tone that I secretly love.
Preston scrunches his eyebrows. “Why? You do.”
“Yeah, because he’smycreep.” Ugh. Will the butterflies ever stop?
Holding up his hands, Preston says, “Damn, my bad. Hey, Koby.” He looks over at Ethan to make sure that nickname is okay. I almost roll my eyes. Ethan really is a weirdo.
I give Preston a wave, then face Ethan. “Was that necessary?” I ask in a low voice.
Ethan gives me one of his easy smiles and kisses me on the cheek, super close to my mouth. My breath hitches and I grasp his arms.
“Definitely,” he answers back in a voice just as low. He pulls back from me, and in a normal voice, he tells me, “Have fun in class.” He has the nerve to chuckle as he walks away.
At this point, I think I love and hate my best friend.
After another weekat Ethan’s house, I have to go home to grab more clothes. I don’t have much, but I don’t ever bring all of my clothes to his house. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m moving in. I usually take enough for a few days, then go home when I run out of clean clothes. I’ll stay home for a night or two before Ethan and I decide to have another sleepover. It’s a constant cycle that I don’t think I’ll get sick of.
