Page 89 of Safety Net
"I know what I want to say and what I can do," he said. "There's no use in beating around the bush and dragging this out. I just want to get back out there. Start over and work toward improvement. I don't like wasting time, you know? I've made up my mind, and now I want to take action. I want to move forward."
"I get that, I do..." I bite on my inner cheek.
"Say it, Celeste." Lincoln smiled down at me. His hand massaged the nape of my neck. "What are you thinking?"
"I don't know…I think taking your time could be good for you," I said. "It shows you're patient and willing to put in the work."
"I am only one of those things."
I smiled. "Could you try to be the other?"
He took a breath, considering. "One day, sure, I'll give patience a go. But with the new season right around the corner, I don't think I can afford it. Besides, patience on the ice could be the reason you miss a winning play. Most winners aren't patient."
"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit. You've been plenty patient with me."
Lincoln shook his head and leaned down for a kiss. "Because you make everything feel whole. There's no amount of time I wouldn't wait for you."
I kissed him this time, parting my lips slightly as a reminder I've let him in once and I would continue.
"It's up to you ultimately," I said once we pulled away to catch our breath. "Regardless, I'm rooting for you. And if you need anything from me, just let me know."
"I will," he promised. "You let me know, too. I'd push it all to the sidelines for you. In a heartbeat, I'd drop it all for you."
"I'm not asking for you to drop it all," I assured. "But I will ask you to bring in the castle set pieces before next Friday. My aunt's been asking about it. She's getting nervous. We really need it for opening night."
"I got it taken care of," Lincoln promised. "It's as good as done, so cross it off your to-do list."
"Thank you." I forced myself to step out of his embrace. "I need to go now if I want to make my meeting on time."
"Alright," Lincoln said, disappointment making his voice quieter. "When will I see you again?"
"I'm free after." My cheeks burned at how eager I sounded. "Too soon?"
He shook his head. "I'll start the countdown. "
My hand trembled as I knocked on the door of Professor Nola's office. But there was more excitement than anxiety flowing through my veins. She welcomed me in with a smile and immediately pulled up the email with my video attachment of the final practice. We watched in silence. I was so focused on the stage I didn't notice Nola's worried brow.
"Celeste," she said as soon as the music faded out and the video cut to black.
I sat up straighter, my smile disappearing. I'm out of the foggy bliss of last night. Now, the world felt brighter and once again, as dangerous as ever.
"Yes?" I managed to ask, sounding far more stable than the trembling hands I tucked underneath my thighs.
"It's not just an audio recording," she said, trying to laugh to lighten the mood.
"Right." I swallowed and willed myself to elaborate. "I wanted to do something bigger. Something that'd help me stand out from everyone else."
Nola watched me, expression blank as she waited for me to say something more. Something that made sense.
I couldn't make much sense, but I could be honest. "I wanted to do a production."
"A big job,” she noted.
"Yes, but not unlike what Ophelia Lawrence did during her time here." I tried to smile, but Nola stared back at me blankly. My gaze became flighty, unable to hold eye contact as I realized she wasn’t the slightest bit impressed. I tucked one hand around my midsection and slipped the other underneath my thigh. Sitting here, confessing I was trying to be like Ophelia—and had so clearly failed in the eyes of a professional—made my insides feel ready to spill out.
"Everything fell into place over this summer." I’d given up eye contact altogether, staring at the back of her computer instead. "Some of my…friends didn't mind pitching in. And I figured this was a perfect opportunity to really see my music come to life. To show what it'd look like and feel like…a musical isn't at its fullest if just on a page or recording."
It was quiet for too long, the suspense more discomforting than my shame. So, I dared to glance up and look for some sign maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Nola twisted her mouth to the side as she considered my explanation. I could hear water dripping from the AC. A hum of a microwave coming from the lounge next door. Music of everyday life, taunting me in its ability to be loud and consistent. Everthing else was ever in motion, when I felt as though my world had stopped.
