Page 60 of Count Down

With my gun ready, I lean it on the edge of the wall and look down the scope. I almost don’t need the scope at this distance, but I use it to look over the area. I can’t see through the small windows. The sun is still out and reflecting off of them. There are two possible doors Dolan could come out of. One on each corner. From where I am, I can cover both of them.

I lower the rifle. And wait. Hopefully Dolan will come out soon.

42

GINA

I knewI’d be stressed backstage. When I first applied to be in the showcase, I tried to picture what this day would be like. And I knew I’d be anxious. But since then, I’ve met Luca. I’ve fallen in love with him. This is so much more intense than I ever imagined.

I know he was trying to hide how dangerous his work actually is, especially tonight. I know he was anxious. I know he packed his weapons. I know it’s kill or be killed tonight. He’ll either be back to see my piece or…

There’s nothing I can do to help him in this moment. I hope he’s okay, but to keep myself sane, I try to think of something else. Lexi seems to have the same idea. She keeps talking to distract me.

“You know…” Lexi tilts her head at me, her tongue pressed against the side of her mouth. “We’ve still got time to get some sticks and attach some ribbon.” She crosses her arms and squints while nodding at me. “I really think if the dancers wave them over their heads throughout the whole piece, it would really zhuzh it up.” She holds her arms above her head and shakes her hands, raising her eyebrows at me.

I snicker and shake my head at her.

“And the music…” she continues.

“What about the music?” I say grinning. Her jokes are stupid. But she knows it’s the kind of stupid I need right now. I’ve always figured Lexi uses her humor as some kind of shield. I’m grateful to her for sharing that protection with me right now.

“It’s just so… so…” she scrunches up her face trying to find the words. I raise my eyebrows at her. “It’s too pedestrian,” she says with an exaggerated sigh.

“Oh?” I reply.

“It’s not too late to change it!” Lexi places her hands on my arms in mock assurance. “Are you familiar with the singer-songwriter, Enya?”

“Please, enlighten me,” I play along.

Lexi nods. “I really think she’s the Celtic New Age style you were aiming for. You were close! Don’t take this the wrong way -- you came close, but I think this is better.”

“I guess I should have consulted you much earlier.”

“You should have. But it’s okay. I’m here now. I just might be able to right this ship. Now, the costumes… we don’t have much time, but if we can acquire some safety pins and a couple packages of multi-colored felt sheets, we’re home free.”

Lexi and her stupid ideas keep me thoroughly distracted until the show starts. We watch along on a monitor backstage and she whispers her notes and hot takes on how to “improve” each one. It’s not long before I’m trying to get her to shut up because she’s making me laugh.

Before I know it, the first half of the showcase is over and it’s the intermission. I turn to Lexi. “I’m going to run out to the lobby real quick.” She nods back at me and lets me go by myself. She knows I want to see if Luca is back. I also want to see if my parents have come after all.

The lobby is buzzing with people. It reminds me this showcase is sold out. I feel a slight pang of anxiety knowing that my piece will be performed to a packed house. I look around the crowd, hoping to see Luca grinning back at me. He’s tall enough that he would be easy to find.

I’m reminded of the first time I saw him, right here in this lobby. I was almost frightened when I saw him. I was frightened of a lot of things back then. We’ve come a long way.

I don’t see Luca anywhere. I try not to think of why he’s not back yet. I scan the crowd again, looking for my mother or father. As bad as things have been between us, seeing them here would give me some kind of reassurance. I want to know my father is safe. I want to know they can still support me despite all our differences.

I can’t find either of my parents. I squeeze through the crowd to the other side of the lobby. This crowd seems so different to me. I recognize people from previous shows, but it doesn’t feel right. I used to feel comfortable here. Maybe it’s just nerves, but I feel out of place tonight. I head to the door of the ticket booth.

I knock on the door and a man a little younger than me opens the door from inside. “Yes?” He asks.

“I left some tickets for my parents. Could you see if they’ve been picked up yet?”

The man wheels his chair back to his desk. “What name is it under?”

“Nicoletti.”

The man flips through a tray of envelopes on his desk. There are only a few envelopes left in the tray, tickets that must not have been picked up yet. He finishes flipping through the envelopes then moves to a printed list.

He scrolls down the list and to the second page. “Nicoletti!” He swivels his chair back toward me. “Yes, the tickets were picked up.”

---