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FINAL CAST LIST ASHBURN HIGH-SCHOOL PLAY
ROMEO AND JULIET
HOUSE OF VERONA
PRINCE ESCALUS..............................BRITTON GLOVER
COUNT PARIS..................................LOGAN SHELBY
MERCUTIO.......................................WESLEY PAYTON
HOUSE OF MONTAGUE
LORD MONTAGUE.............................SAM WOODHAM
LADY MONTAGUE..............................JILLY PRATT
ROMEO MONTAGUE...........................JACKSON HOBBS
BENVOLIO.........................................CONNOR FAIRBURN
ABRAM..............................................MARSHALL RIPLEY
BALTHASAR.......................................JONAH COLLINS
HOUSE OF CAPULET
LORD CAPULET.................................SHANE BULL
LADY CAPULET.................................MORGANA HUBERT
JULIET CAPULET................................CECELIA JAMISON
TYBALT...................................
NURSE............................
“Christ, C-C-Cecelia, you got the lead!”
I know I should have been surprised. Amy certainly acted like I had won the lottery. But I had known from the moment that I had exited the auditions a week earlier that I had had it in my pocket. Juliet. It had been a dream, as cliché as it would sound, to play this role in my senior year.
I was pulled into a hug before I could envision myself standing on a balcony hovering over the auditorium stage. Amy had always been the more extroverted one of the both of us.
“I have a lead, Amy. And honestly, I think Jackson has more lines than me.”
She let go of me, looking at me with a look of you-have-to-be-kidding-me that I had seen too many times through the years. If it weren’t for the stutter, I bet Amy Phillips would have been a great one for comedy.
“Sure, but we both know they picked him for his prom-king attitude,” she said. “You did this on pure dis-s-tilled talent.” Taking my hands, she pulled me a little closer. “And even if he has more lines, Juliet outshines Romeo far more in terms of tragedy.”
I chuckled. She was ever the one to boost my ego.
“Alright, alright. But this won’t mean anything until I actually stand on that stage.” I scanned over the list once again. “They want to rehearse twice a week, so I don’t know if we can get shakes as often till after the performance.”
“Eh, that’s fine. Mom wants me to cut it back anyway for the graduation dress she has picked out for me.”
I grimaced. Mrs. Philips had plans to host a graduation dinner for both of us and our families, given how close we all were. Amy had shown me the dress in question over the weekend. Perfectly in line with Mrs. Philips’ taste, it was hideous. Not that Amy had any say in it.
“Maybe we have fewer shakes, but you could certainly help me with the lines,” I grinned at her. “If you dare.”
She let out a brief but loud laugh. “Oh Miss Jamison, you tease me.”
***
After school, there was a small meeting with the drama club to go over the casting and the deadlines for rehearsals. The annual Ashburn theatre production was something to look forward to when the summer came around. I had been part of the drama club since freshmen year, but only seniors could audition for the final play. It usually was a Shakespeare.
Mr. Parkston wanted to end the meeting with a table read of the first scene. Jackson had been eyeing me every now and then when Mr. Parkston had gone over the technical details of the production. I was glad he had his attention on something else. Jackson was charming, sure. He did have that prom-king aura that Amy had spoken of. He was tall, handsome, did some football (but not too seriously, or he would not have time for things like this), and had not really done any acting at school before this. His audition had been before mine so I knew it hadn’t been a completely rigged decision to place him as Romeo, but it was not like he was the best choice. He looked pretty and spoke his lines clearly, that was about it for me.
“Be sure to read through the first act at home and come prepared to practice some scenes on Thursday, everyone!”
I had packed most of my things when Mr. Parkston dismissed us but wasn’t quick enough to escape Jackson coming up to me.
“So, Cecelia, I guess we are the doomed lovers of our year,” he smiled down at me.
I raised an eyebrow at him. I’d never taken him for someone who could be corny.
“Are you sure you and Marian don’t already hold that title?”
I knew they had ended things just a few weeks earlier, the whole school knew it as an unspoken fact. Jackson had had the opinion that Marian didn’t spend enough time with him, so rather than improve something on his end, he had called it quits altogether. I saw it hit a nerve when I said it to his face. But he recollected himself pretty fast.
“Well, I’m sure Marian will happily hand it over to you if you’d ask. She won’t share much with me these days, and I can be very giving.”
I cringed as I slung my bag over my shoulder.
“Maybe if you improve that attitude of yours. See you Thursday, Jackson.” I walked out before he could make some remark after me. Ugh.
***
“You did not!”
We were sitting in my bedroom. Amy had the script spread open in front of her, going over the lines to make sure I remembered mine. I had just informed her of my little head-butting with Jackson. We had biked home together after I was done in the auditorium and she had finished volleyball practice. The bag with gym clothes was thrown next to my dresser.
“I mean, it was pretty easy. He put it out there for me to take advantage of.” I took a sip of my iced tea on the counter. “So much for his political career.”
“Damn C-Celia, you’re ruthless.”
Amy got up from her place on the floor to grab her own glass before sitting down on the bed next to me.
“Do you think this may complicate your performance or anything? I doubt he can pull any s-strings at this point, but he may become a pain in your ass-s-s.”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t think it will be much of a problem to me. He may act himself in the gutter if he gets worked up over this. I know I can smile and wave to save my life.”
Amy chuckled as she held the glass to her mouth. “Do just that and you’ll have them all swooning.”
She had always been my best friend, at least for as long as I could remember. We always had each other’s backs in situations like these, me with my acting, her with her sports, and the talking. Beyond that, we could trust each other with almost anything. And yet, when she had mumbled that like a secret and looked at me sideways with her soft brown eyes, I wasn’t sure I could tell her how it made me feel inside.
I didn’t really have time to think about it.
There was barely a knock on the door before it already was pushed open by Robert.
He ducked back just in time to miss the pillow Amy threw at him, which also broke me out of my internal crisis.
“Miss Philips, these improper manners bring a disgrace to our humble abode!” I heard him say from behind the door.
“You must jest, s-sir Jamison, for it is more improper to enter a lady's c-chambers unannounced!” she retorted back at him in an exaggerated manner.
They always did this. It had started when I enrolled in the drama club and Robert started poking fun at me for it by mimicking fancy operas and regency novels. It didn’t take too long for Amy to join in, albeit to offer some counter to his teasing.
He peeked his head around the corner to judge if the coast was clear.
Amy stood at the ready with another one of my pillows but allowed him in under her aim.
Robert entered and took a deep bow before my bed. “Madam, I come to you to inform you that dinner will be served shortly. Mrs. Jamison only comes with the question if Miss Philips will delight us with her attendance at this feast.”
Amy put the pillow down as she straightened herself to seem as regal as could be. “She s-shall, if the madam agrees, and after my court is informed of my absence this evening sh-shortly.” She glanced at me for my response.
“The madam Jamison allows it,” and I waved my hand to dismiss Robert.
He nodded before exiting the room again as dramatic as he could.
I let out the laugh I had been holding when the door clicked as it was closed. “You’re awful.
“Oh only to indulge him, madam Jamison,” she made up a courtesy as she stepped off the bed. “I do think I should call my parents though, so they don’t think I’m sneaking off somewhere else.”
“Sure, I’ll be downstairs in a minute. Just gotta clean your mess up,” I said as I gestured to the strewn papers from my script and the pillows at the door.
“Okidoki!” She sneered at me.
Others would call it rude, but I knew Amy did it just to tease me as Robert did. It came from a place of love. Which... speaking of...
***
Jackson had taken my comments from the first day as a competition it seemed. Maybe he did have some Jock-ness in him after all. It wasn’t too bad as strong emotions were what Mr. Parkston was looking for in his direction, but the after-rehearsal encounters with Jackson were not something I looked forward to.
Amy and I had come up with a plan for it. Rehearsals at this point in the production usually lasted beyond Amy’s time at volleyball, so she would wait for me outside the auditorium so that I had an excuse to leave the place before Jackson could start up a conversation that did not have anything to do with the play.
“Yes Jackson, I hear you, but Amy is waiting for me outside and I can’t keep her hanging there alone so till next week!” I grabbed her hand as I got out the door and we ran through the empty halls, footsteps echoing between the lockers.
Our bikes were thrown on the grass at the foot of the small hill that presented the large oak of the Philips’. They didn’t have a large house, but more than enough ground to compensate for it. The oak was the cherry on the pie that was the gorgeous garden. It looked out over pastures and fields with crops, which now in the Spring were teeming with young animals and wildflowers. Amy sat on the old swing that hung from a thick branch above us, while I had taken the blanket on the grass. Mrs. Philips had made some popsicles with fruit from the orchard and brought them to us a moment ago to try out. The sun was slowly nearing the horizon, not quite yet turning orange.
We had sat in silence for some time. Not for any particular reason.
But I did feel that awful nagging in my stomach again. Like I wanted to say something but didn’t really know what or how. It didn’t help that it worsened when I looked at her, making my stomach turn (but in a good way) so instead, I stared ahead and started gnawing on the ice.
I could never keep something from her for too long.
“C-C-Celia?”
I moved my head sideways a little. Not enough to look her in the eye, but enough to show that I was listening.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked.
I heard the creaking of wood as the swing moved back and forth a little.
“I know the performance coming up is s-stressful, but I’ve seen you st-stressed before and it isn’t like this.”
I bit off the last piece of ice and threw the stick on the blanket. I put my knees under my chin as I wrapped my arms around them.
“Amy, I don’t think you would understand, even if I told you.”
The creaking stopped.
“Well, that’s a first.”
I could hear that she was annoyed at me, and I couldn’t blame her. It was stupid that I felt like I had to keep this to myself when she was such an important part of it. Of me. But I would rather live in this nebulous nothing than risk the chance of her hating me for it.
“Yeah well, you’re not my diary or my therapist. I don’t see how it is weird for me to keep some things to myself,” I snapped. It came out meaner than I had meant for it to.
I heard how she stepped on the grass before sitting down next to me on the blanket.
The sun had touched the horizon now just barely.
“I guess that is true,” she said it softly as if she was talking to herself. “Maybe it s-surprised me that it was so obvious to tell, given how good you can act.” I saw from my peripheral vision that she turned to look at me. “Or did you want me to s-see it?”
I didn’t notice there had been tears welling up in my eyes until I felt her finger brush one away. It pulled me out of my thought enough to finally look at her. Right into her sympathetic eyes.
“You know there is nothing that you can’t tell me, right?”
I saw how she breathed in deeper than usual, how she was somehow nervous too.
It was all a bit overwhelming. I felt more tears run down my face as I held onto dear life not to sob in front of her. But when she held a hand to my cheek to brush them away once more, I couldn’t really keep it together.
Before I really noticed it I leaned forward and kissed her.
It was a second before I jerked myself back and covered my red face with my hands.
“S-shit, Amy, I’m sorry. I-I-I shouldn’t have...”
I wanted to get up and run off somewhere where she wouldn’t follow me. Somewhere I could not look at her face as it was undoubtedly shaped in disgust at me. For me.
But instead, I felt her soft hands slide underneath mine to hold my face. I had to calm myself down for a moment before I dared to move my hands away.
There was no disgust, no hatred, nothing but the soft understanding that she always had shown.
“Celia...” she whispered, almost too quiet for me to hear.
I felt how she softly pulled me closer. I moved my hands to hold hers. Not to stop her, just to feel her close to me.
“W-what?”
“It’s okay.”
And this time she put her lips on mine. Softly at first, but when I reciprocated I felt her teasing me with small bites on my bottom lip. She could never just leave me in peace.
As the sun started to set, I dragged her down with me as I laid back on the blanket. Amy still held my face as she hovered above me. I moved up a hand to take the dark hair, letting the low rays of the sunshine on her freckled face and catch her eyes.
“What do you think Jackson would say if he knew he could never make me feel like you do?”
Amy scoffed before scrunching her face in thought.
“Probably s-something about it being unfair that I got a head-start, knowing you better because I’m a girl and all that.”
We both laughed at that.
I touched her chin to get her attention again.
“But I would also say that you are a better kisser.”
Amy smirked as she leaned down.
“If madam Jamison s-says so.”
***
I wasn’t sure if it had changed our relationship.
I doubted people at school or at home would notice anything, as we were already as close as could be. But Amy held my hand more times when we walked to class, and I caught myself giving her pecks on the cheek as she went home from learning lines at my place.
Moments that now frequently ended in something else than drinking ice tea on the bed. I made sure the door was locked in case Robert wanted to barge in again.
We never really went to discuss it in detail. We were young, we had fun, and we had an understanding that this was a private thing. Sometimes it saddened me, knowing how difficult a future like this with Amy would be, but other days it was like this looming threat, of someone finding out, did not exist at all. Likewise, Amy rarely brought up her thought on it. The only pieces I could pick up were when I held her close and she whispered how glad she was to finally have me here before kissing below my ear.
We kept this going for a few months as the premiere drew closer, biking off to somewhere after school or, on certain occasions, sneaking into a bathroom stall together.
The stage department had made a beautiful set of Verona for the auditorium. It had to be set up in the few hours between the graduation ceremony and the start of the play later in the evening, but it was still impressively detailed. As I had to stay at school after the ceremony in preparation for the play, Amy’s mom had moved the graduation dinner at their place till after the performance.
“S-so has Jackson gotten over his lack of talent yet?” Amy asked as we had our lunch on the auditorium stage. The ivy-covered balcony hung over us, castle walls set up on the sides.
“I think his desire to impress may just give us the most dramatic Romeo yet,” I said in-between bites. “He’s forgotten almost about me, it seems. Mostly wants to impress Parkston it seems, and by extension the entire school.”
“Ugh, s-show-off.”
“Don’t worry, it’s the last we will see of him before he heads off to Atlanta.”
“Well, maybe I want to go to S-State Uni too, Celia. And I’d rather have my c-chances of walking into him be down to absolute zero.”
I chuckled. Amy was sure where she wanted to go for college while I was still doubting if I would take a year off first. It had been a topic of discussion (nothing too major) as Atlanta was a bit of a drive from home. But still, it was not impossible and I was close to getting a driver’s license anyway.
“If you do and he annoys you too much, just give me a call and I will punch him for you in the face.”
Amy threw back her head as she laughed loudly, making the sound bounce off the walls in the open space.
“C-Celia, you can do many things, I’m s-sure, but I doubt you can beat up a casual football player.” She wiped her eyes with her hands and let herself fall on the stage floor when I pushed her shoulder, causing another fit of laughter.
“Oh stop it, Amy.” Though it was nice to see her so carefree.
***
The graduation ceremony was very basic, with the usual caps, gowns, and diplomas. It was more symbolical if anything, and a terribly long sit. Amy went home with her parents to do some preparations for the dinner and get into the hideous dress that her mother so adored. My parents went along with them but promised to get back a bit earlier so as to have the best seats and give a little pep-talk before I would go on.
I ran over some scenes with Mr. Parkston and Jackson as a kind of final rehearsal. We had practiced it enough times in the past week and lacked the time to do something from the top, but everyone had faith that it would be alright. And, well, this wasn’t Broadway. As they did final checks on the stage and the technical stuff, I was backstage getting ready with costumes and make-up. The Juliet dress was gorgeous, beautiful in its simplicity. It was a combination of blue tones that were a nice contrast with my hair. A darker blue for the larger panels, with lighter blues for the bands and details. My hair was curled so that it had some more volume at the bottom, and someone from costumes had picked up a load of fake-but-fancy-looking jewelry somewhere.
I was going over my lines for a final time before the show as I heard the door open to what was set up as the dressing room. Turning around, I saw my parents maneuver themselves through the bustle of cast members and the people helping out backstage to get to me. My mom had a big, warm smile, and seemed like she wanted to pull me into a hug.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry we were a bit late but sitting down without wishing you good luck didn’t seem right,” she said as she approached me.
I moved back a little. “Ah thanks, ma, but be careful or you will get the make-up people upset.”
“Oh! Sorry dear, of course.” She squeezed my shoulder instead of giving me one of her typical tight hugs.
“I think we will be seated a bit to the front,” my father spoke up. “Amy said she would keep a seat free for us when we got here.”
“Oh, she came here with you?”
“Haha,” he and ma shared a knowing look before pointing it at me. “I think we got her out of the kitchen just in time. You know how Marion gets when there is something to organize, especially with cooking and such.”
I did know what he meant. Mrs. Philips could be a perfectionist, even if she didn’t do much of the cooking herself. Amy likely would have died from having to hear her commands through the evening.
“But as your mother said, we got here a bit late so I think we should get back to the auditorium now. Maybe Amy will come to say hi before you go up.” He linked his arm with ma as they left the room. “Break a leg out there, sweetie.”
“Sure pa.”
Slowly the dressing room emptied out as people were getting to their places for the first scene. I didn’t have to rush as Juliet wouldn’t appear until scene three. There was a soft knock at the door, and I noticed that there wasn’t anyone but I still left.
“Yes?” I thought it had to be someone who had forgotten an earring or had to fix their hair at the last moment. Instead, a familiar face peeked around the opening door.
It had been an ugly dress when it was spread out on Amy’s bed, but now, with her in it, I could understand why Mrs. Philips thought it would look good on her daughter. It was a saturated orange, but not too bright, that brought out her hair. It was embroidered with all kinds of flowers, and with the petticoat underneath reached till just on her knees. Amy wore a small heel, as despite the volleyball she had weak ankles, but the thought came to me that it was so that she wouldn’t tower above me as much.
“Hey... are you nervous?” I saw on her face that it was a rhetorical question, she knew I wasn’t.
“Oh no, of course not. Are you?”
She let out an entertained noise. “Depends. I am a bit worried about Jackson with all that you have told me.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine.” I got up and loop my arms around her neck. “Besides, either after or during his scenes you get to look at me.”
She placed her hands on my hips, moving her thumbs over the embroidery there. “Hmmm, that certainly is a relief.”
Not hearing anything outside the door, I dared to get closer, inviting her to close the gap between us. She looked at me daringly, dragging the moment on just long enough to put her lips on mine when I was about to lose my patience. We kept it quiet, and because of that, I could hear Mark say the first lines that had been drilled into my mind. I broke away from Amy.
“I think you should get back. It’s starting and they might begin to wonder where you are.”
“Oh, they can wait a little longer. I’ll just s-say I have gone to the bathroom for a bit.” I saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. “And I want to give you s-something for good luck.”
“Oh?”
She moved the mass of curls away from my neck before she bent forward. I was reminded of Robert dressed as Dracula as he acted like he was going to bite some girl’s neck. Maybe it kind of felt like that. Amy nibbled a second at the sensitive skin before going in for the kill. I pulled her closer while at the same time arching into her.
Oh.
I brought a hand to my mouth as to not make any sound, still holding it there when Amy pulled back to smirk at me. She kept a satisfied smile on her face as she fixed my hair back into its place.
“Don’t want Romeo to s-see I got to Juliet first,” and with a wink, she walked backward away from me until she exited the dressing room.
I stood there for a moment collecting myself before I heard Morgana calling from behind the door if I was ready.
“I’ll be right there!” I said as I took a last look in the mirror to make sure the spot on my neck was covered.
***
To say that the play went well was an understatement. It went amazing.
Jackson was somehow different than during rehearsals. He seemed to take it more seriously, while also playing up some moments with more flare to add a comedic twist. Whenever the script allowed it, I looked into the audience, spotting my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Philips on the third row, as well as Amy. I could hear their cheers over the others as I took the final bow with all the cast.
Back in the dressing room, I cleaned up the stage make-up and put up my own for the dinner at the Philips’ later. I was just taking off the last of the plastic pieces of jewelry when Mr. Parkston waved me over via the mirror. I dropped off the necklaces at Jessica before going to him.
“Is something the matter Mr. Parkston?”
He seemed almost giddy. “Well, Miss Jamison, there is a man here who wanted to speak with you about your performance.” He continued with a lower voice. “I heard he comes from California.”
I had some suspicions based on that hint but decided not to draw too many conclusions. It could just be Some Guy after all. Mr. Parkston took me into the auditorium, which was slowly emptying out of people, and pointed to a man in a suit sitting in the second row on the right. He got up when I approached him, extending his hand towards me.
“Ah, you must be Miss Jamison, this night’s Juliet?” He had a smile that was nice but in a way that looked practiced. I shook his hand.
“Yes, sir, that would be me.”
He motioned for me to take a seat next to him.
“I’m not sure if kind Mr. Parkston has told too much about me, but I did not get the impression that you knew I was here. But if you did, I’d consider myself even more impressed.”
“I have to disappoint you then, sir, I don’t have a clue who you are.”
“Ah! Well in that case...” he rustled around in a pocket of his jacket before pulling out a business card. He extended it to me between two fingers.
Cedric Staples
Talent Scout
Paramount Pictures
I would lie if I said that I didn’t read it over a number of times before seeing that it was real.
Not just from California, but from Hollywood.
Cedric let me take it in for a moment.
“I suppose you have an idea for why I wanted to talk with you.”
I looked at him with big eyes.
“Mr. Staples, it would be a dream, certainly, but it does come a bit sudden.”
He raised his hands up defensively.
“I know, I know. Believe me, we don’t expect you to pack your bags and take the next Greyhound to LA. Sitting at high-school productions is a routine job for me, and every now and then there is someone that sticks out. I believe you have something that may stick in the bigger pictures, though of course, that isn’t a guarantee. What I’m doing here is give you a try-out ticket for the business, and from there we will have to see where it goes.”
He leaned forward as he laced his fingers.
“But between you and me, I would bet my right hand that you can land a decent movie.”
I sat in thought for a while. It was a bit much to take in, but this was a big deal. I had already weighed the options for taking a gap year before going to college, but this messed up those plans quite a bit.
“Mr. Staples, is it okay if I give you a call back in a couple of days? I have to discuss this with my parents first.”
“Certainly! There is no rush. If you do decide to take up this offer I will go over the practical matters with you. For now, just focus on if you want to do this at all.” With that, he stood up from his seat and gave me a nod. “Have a good evening Miss Jamison.”
I watched him walk out of the auditorium before getting up myself. In the rush of getting my bag and walking to my parents' car in the parking lot, I had forgotten to take off the Juliet dress.
***
They had all been shocked when I recounted the conversation with Mr. Staples over dinner at the Philips’. Robert was enthusiastic, my parents proud, Mr. and Mrs. Philips impressed, and Rebecca couldn’t care less.
The one I couldn’t really get an impression of was Amy. She hardly spoke to me after I had told them all, despite us sitting next to each other. Instead, she seemed lost in her own thoughts, tracking who was talking but with a distant look in her eyes.
If she didn’t bring it up herself, I knew we had to talk after dessert.
When the others moved into the salon to have some drinks, I saw Amy quietly walking up the stairs to her room. I made up an excuse to go change from the costume into my own dress and followed her upstairs. She had closed the door behind her, so I gave a brief knock before opening it carefully.
A pillow just missed my head before it plopped on the floor beside me.
“I didn’t s-s-say you could come in.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I mumbled, still taking further steps into her space so that I could close the door behind me. I went to sit on the edge of the bed next to her, but she turned her head away from me.
“Amy... you didn’t say a word during dinner. I know I was all ‘let me have secrets’ before, but I can’t apologize if I don’t know what you are mad about.”
“You know what it is. Don’t act all stupid now.”
“I don’t. I thought you would be happy for me, given how you always praised the acting.”
“It’s Hollywood, Ce-Ce-Cecelia, Hollywood! And s-sure, it is a big, dreamy, glamorous opportunity, but also one that is on the other s-s-side of the country. I’d made my peace with me going to Atlanta and you s-staying here because a three-hour ride every now and then is at least s-s-somewhat manageable.”
She put her head in her hands as she caught her breath for a moment before continuing, a bit softer.
“But this... I don’t know if I will ever s-see you again when you move there. And don’t tell me ‘if’ because I know you, Ce-Cecelia Jamison, and I know when you have s-set your mind on something.”
She let out a long breath. I didn’t say anything for a moment. Thinking on the matter, but also allowing Amy some space. She was quiet for a moment until her breathing took up a pace and I heard a sob tear through her still hunched figure.
“I-I... I just don’t want to lose y-y-you because of this, C-C-Celia.” She finally turned to face me, peeking her already reddening eyes through her fingers. I didn’t say anything. Instead, I scooted over and put my arms around her so that she could let it all out as her hands clasped my back. I felt my own eyes begin to sting. I let her crying go its course until it had slowed into even-paced ragged breaths.
“Amy...,” I spoke as I softly stroked her back. “Don’t think this is easy for me. But... it is an opportunity that I’m probably not going to get again. The least I can do is give it a try.”
I took her shoulders so that I could look at her tear-streaked face. It pained me that I was the one who had hurt her like this.
“But that is just what it is, for now, a try. It’s not a guarantee that I will stay there forever.”
She scoffed, but I could see that it was a good-natured one.
“Don’t fool yourself, they won’t chase you out of the s-studio.”
“Hmmm, we’ll see. I heard it’s a tough world out there.”
Amy took a tissue from her nightstand to clean her face with. I could see that she was thinking of what to say next.
“Okay. Regardless of how I feel about this, about us, I don’t want to tie you down to me. And maybe you will break through and your s-schedule won’t allow us to s-s-see each other, and to have...” she motioned her hands around. “...This. Which is not how I imagined it, but in all fairness, I had not imagined us to even get to what we had.” She let out a soft laugh. I agreed with her. It was better to have had this if only briefly, than to not have experienced it at all.
“But,” Amy continued, raising a finger. “Whatever turns your life will take out there, and whoever will come on your path, promise you will remember me.” She looked away as the hand lowered into her lap. “Please?”
I took her face in my hands.
“Of course, I will.”
I saw her tears well up again as she smiled, and I kissed away as they rolled from her eyes, tasting the hint of salt. After a moment, Amy could let out a laugh again as my kisses tickled her cheeks, and before long had my lips caught between hers once more. When we broke away at last it occurred that nobody had come to check in on us.
“You know,” I began. “I don’t think they are missing us downstairs.”
Amy looked at me with her innocent eyes. “Oh, maybe dad’s aged brandy has them occupied.”
This time it was my turn to look at her with a glint in my eyes.
“Hmm, well then, would you be so kind to help me out of this dress, Miss Philips?”
It took a second for her to catch onto my meaning.
“Oh Miss Jamison, it would be my pleasure.”