I wouldn’t have been surprised if Harriet had started it.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said, Cal’s hands on my waist.
“You’ve always done your best work in front of an audience,” he said.
“Surely not my best,” I countered, eyebrow raised.
The crowd whooped and continued their chant.
Cal gave the microphone a yank, detaching it from his jacket, and dropped it onto a nearby table. He pulled me offstage, to the audible groan of the crowd.
Once we were alone, I pressed my face into his chest.
“Oh my god,” I said. “I can’t believe I did that.”
Cal put his hand under my chin and lifted my face to meet his.
“It was perfect,” he said.
“Really?”
“Well,” he said, “perfectly you. Perfectly us.”
I put my arms around his neck.
“Us?”
“I’ve loved you forever,” Cal said.
I felt faint with relief. With joy.
“Everyone is going to think I slept with you to get this job,” I said.
“Probably,” he said. “Until they see you perform. Then they’ll know the truth.”
“Which is?”
“That this is where you’ve always belonged,” he said.
I didn’t know if he meant the stage or his arms, but it didn’t matter. Both were true. Now, and forever.
FINALE
“Is it safe to be up here?” Cal asked.
I shrugged. “It’s a roof,” I said. “I don’t think it’s going to break.”
I could tell he wasn’t very comforted by my response, but he followed me up anyway. We sat next to each other, arms wrapped around our knees, close enough to be touching but not touching at all.
It was cold, but the best kind of summer cold—with the heat of the day still lingering on the skin. I pulled the hem of my sweatshirt down over my bare legs, probably looking a bit like a sweatshirt blob with a head and feet.
Cal was wearing a T-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. In the moonlight, I could see goose bumps on his arms, but he didn’t say anything and neither did I.
“Do you ever wish you could just freeze time?” I asked.
Cal didn’t say anything for a while.
“Not really,” he said.
“Oh,” I said.
“I wish it would speed up,” he said.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked.
“To be an adult, I guess,” he said. “To have freedom and be able to make choices of my own.”
I turned toward him, resting my cheek on my knee.
“I feel like I’m just waiting for something to happen, I guess.”
I nodded.
“Sometimes you have to make it happen,” I said. “You can’t wait.”
He was staring up at the sky.
“What do you like about it?” he asked. “Performing.”
“I like how it makes me feel,” I said.
“Which is?”
I thought about it. “Powerful, I guess,” I said. “Because when I’m onstage, when I’m really in the moment, everyone is watching me. I’m going to tell them what to feel—how to feel. At least, if I’m doing it right. That’s pretty powerful.”
“I never thought about it that way.”
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” I said. “What about you?”
“It’s fun,” he said. “I like that it’s kind of a surprise, you know, telling people you can dance or sing or whatever.”
“Yeah,” I said.
We looked at the stars.
“I wish I could come back next summer,” I said.
He shifted. “You’re not coming back?”
“Can’t,” I said. “This was my chance. At least until I’m eighteen.”
He nodded. “Well…” He thought for a moment. “Maybe you’ll get a call when you get home. Sometimes that happens—scouts and agents—they get in touch.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I’d been good. I’d been great. But no one had come to speak to me after the showcase.
“Someone will call,” he said. “You’re really talented.”
“You are too,” I said. “And Harriet.”
“I don’t think I’m that good,” he said.
“You know what you like,” I said. “What looks good. What works.”
“I guess,” he said.
“Maybe you should be a choreographer or a director or something,” I said.
He laughed. “Okay,” he said. “Sure.”
“What?” I gave him a shove. “If scouts are going to call me, then why can’t you be a director one day?”
“I guess I could try,” he said.
“Promise me that you will.”
I held out my hand, pinky extended.
Cal looked like he didn’t really think this was necessary, but linked his pinky with mine anyway and followed my lead as I blew on my thumb.
“This was the best summer,” I said. “Despite everything.”
“Yeah,” he said.
I looked at him. He was really cute.
“Cal?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you?”
He turned to stare at me. “What?”
I should have said “nothing” or “never mind” but instead I just repeated myself.
“Can I kiss you?”
He looked gorgeous in the moonlight.
“Yeah, sure,” he said.
I shifted my body toward him. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Or my knees. Or anything really. I kind of just sat there, my torso twisted in his direction. Then I put my palms on either side of his face.
And kissed him.
It was a short, smacking kiss. So short that I didn’t even really process anything besides the softness of Cal’s lips. I felt disappointed. I’d expected more. I’d wanted more.