Imagine my surprise when the first people we saw at the school’s entrance were Coop, Rymer and Sargento.
I walked right up to Coop. “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming to this thing!”
Coop looked a little uneasy when he answered, “Yeah, well. I didn’t talk to you today and these guys just decided we were coming about an hour ago.”
I didn’t know why he seemed so uncomfortable spilling the news that he’d made alternate plans without first consulting me on the matter. It’s not as though he owed me The Big Check-In. Whatever romantic relationship he and I were in had pretty much completely fizzled out before Easter. We were still pretty close, though, and I knew he’d been feeling a little ashamed about leaving me to deal with Lisa twenty-four-seven. We’d had a big talk about it the week before, Coop expressing his guilt at not being there for me more, stepping in to give me a break while I was consumed with the task of caring for her.
We all found seats together (on the opposite side of the auditorium from Pickford and the Redys, Lisa pretending not to notice the way her ex-boyfriend’s eyes followed her all the way down the aisle) and settled in. Rymer made some crack about “the theatre fags”, not too loudly, thank God, but noisily enough that I felt the need to reach over Coop and smack his arm to shut up.
Leave it to the big, burly football player to assume everyone else in the school was second-rate. I didn’t think he was being fair. Everyone has different interests. And maybe the theatre group was having just as good a time on stage as the meatheads were having on the football field. High school was a bumpy enough road to begin with. If you could find a group of people willing to have you come along, it made the ride a lot more fun. Just because this particular group had chosen a creative outlet as their vehicle didn’t mean they were losers. But I guessed Rymer’s attitude was that if you weren’t part of the cool crowd, you weren’t anything. No wonder so many kids hated us. Besides, what the hell was he doing at the damned play if he thought it was so beneath him?
About ten minutes after the curtain opened, I got the answer to my question.
Ladies and gentleman, the part of Sky Masterson was being played by the one and only Terrence C. Wilmington III.
Chapter 22
TOTAL RECALL
To say I was floored would be an understatement.
I stared at him from the safety of my seat, buried in shadow where I could watch without fear of being seen.
It was weird seeing Trip up there, perfectly at home, strutting from one edge of the scene to the other. I sat there, transfixed by the sight of him onstage. He looked so gorgeous in his suit and fedora that it almost put Brando to shame. And my God, the guy could actually act! He even managed a dead-on New York accent. Not bad for a kid who’d only been living here for little more than half a year. By his second scene, you could just feel the audience tuning in, holding their breath with anticipation, engrossed by the performance he was giving.
Once he started singing “I’ll Know”, I realized that not only could he act, but he could actually sing, too. I watched enviously as he kissed Heather Ferrante, but laughed along with the audience when she slapped him. How many girls would’ve loved to have done that to him over the years?
I had the most ridiculous guilt, not even knowing what Trip had been up to the past months, hard at work, obviously pouring himself into such an endeavor. Knowing how much of a perfectionist he’d been over our stupid Shakespeare film, I couldn’t imagine how obsessed he’d been while preparing for something like this. I kept thinking that I wasn’t there to help him with it, wasn’t able to be his comic relief during the endless drudgery of rehearsals, wasn’t there to encourage him through the frustrating moments that I knew he’d encountered along the way.
I made myself let go of my remorse, at least for the next hour or so, in order to enjoy the show. I decided that it was his big moment and I didn’t want to ruin it by letting my overactive brain distract me from it, so I pushed the self-absorbed thoughts aside and focused solely on what was happening onstage.
I smiled as he danced with Heather/Sarah and laughed when he had his huge fight scene with Big Jule. By the time he broke into “Luck Be a Lady”, he had won me over; I’d been captivated by his every move, infatuated at his every word.
It was heartbreaking just to look at him.
There was something so beautiful about him, a glow that came from more than just the stagelights, and the more I watched, something deep inside me started to ache.
I felt Coop give my hand a squeeze, and until that moment, I hadn’t realized I was crying. I became conscious of what Coop must have already noticed, the few traitorous tears dampening my cheeks.
I knew then that in spite of my denials, despite whatever brave face I’d been presenting to the world, no matter how much I tried to pretend that Trip didn’t exist... I’d never stopped loving him.
I gave Coop a quick look of gratitude and squeezed his hand right back, registering why he hadn’t told me about his plans to come see his friend in the play that night. Even the mere mention of Trip’s name would have hurt me; even though I’d put up a good front, he knew I’d never truly gotten over him. That it should have been Cooper that recognized that- and taken pity- touched me in a way I can’t describe.
By the time the play had ended, I was emotionally spent, but at least my eyes were dry. The guys immediately made their way backstage, giving me a moment alone with Lisa.
She was sifting through her purse, trying to find her chapstick, when I asked the million dollar question. “So, am I right to assume you didn’t drag me here tonight just to see Penelope in a supporting role?”
Lisa abandoned her search to reply, “No, not ‘just’. Penny’s been telling me for weeks how good Trip was in this thing. I didn’t think you’d want to miss it. Are you mad?”
I thought about how she had suffered through an evening in near proximity to her ex-boyfriend and his family in order to let me have this experience. It was a gamble, but I was grateful she’d taken it.
“No, I’m not mad.”
“He was really good.”
“Yeah, I know.” Good didn’t quite cover it, but I didn’t want to seem all sappy and crushy.
As we were getting our things to leave, I saw Pickford make his way over. I gave Lisa a nudge, and when she turned and saw him, her whole body went stiff.
In the brief, awkward second of silence, I said, “Hey, Pick.”
He barely looked at me to reply, “Whatsup, Layla,” his eyes locked onto Lisa.
I didn’t know whether I should take off and give them some privacy or if Lisa wanted me to stick around for moral support. So, I just kind of tried to blend into the background while those two continued to stare at one another.
Finally, I said, “Penelope did a great job tonight.”
That broke Pickford’s trance enough for him to reply, “Yeah. Yeah, she did. I was just heading backstage to congratulate her. You guys want to come?”
There was no way I was going to be responsible for making the decision on that one. Lisa finally spoke and answered, “Yeah, sure, why not?” But she grabbed my hand in an iron vise, letting me know that she wasn’t going back there alone.
We grabbed our jackets and purses and followed Pick backstage, where there was a crowded frenzy of about a million people, all the actors talking animatedly with their friends and family. We had to plow our way through the crowd to find Penelope, who was in the process of kissing Dr. and Mrs. Redy goodbye. Just as we approached, they departed, and I was relieved that Lisa wasn’t forced to make nice with them. Having to deal with Pickford was probably enough for her at the moment.
I was able to get in a quick, “Congratulations, Penny, you were great!” before I heard Rymer’s big mouth behind me.
I turned involuntarily at the sound and saw that Trip was standing only a few paces away, looking right in my direction. Lisa was busy hugging Penelope, so she didn’t see him nod his head at me in greeting. With Lisa distracted, I was flying solo on that one, so I took the path of least resistance by politely smiling and giving a quick wave.
I turned my attentions back toward my little group and saw that Lisa and Pick were trying very hard not to look at one another as they excitedly discussed the play with Penelope, but I did notice that they were, in fact, holding hands. I was so stunned by that that I hadn’t noticed the tap on my shoulder was coming from Trip.
I turned, startled to see him there, smiling at me as if the past five months of our standoff hadn’t occurred at all. Before I could think of how I was going to handle that, he directed my attention to the older couple standing next to him, by way of making an introduction. “Mom, Dad, I want you to meet Layla. Layla, these are my parents.”
I wasn’t about to snub the guy on his big night while his parents were standing right there, so I held out my hand to them both. Plastering a smile on my face, I said, “Nice to meet you.”
Mr. Wilmington was a hulking, stern-looking man, but a smile cracked his façade when I did that. He gave my hand a good shake as Mrs. Wilmington just prattled on about how proud she was of Trip. Something about the way she was lavishing on the compliments made me think she was the type of mother that would have been just as indulgent in her praise had he just taken out the garbage extraordinarily well. But it was actually kinda cute.