You and Me and Us Read online

  AFTERWARD, AS WE lie together, Tommy kisses the top of my head. “I would have told you sooner if I knew it meant I’d keep getting lucky.”

  “You have to stop making a joke of this. It’s not funny.”

  “Of course it isn’t.” He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, and then my neck. “It’s just my coping mechanism.”

  “I love it when you talk shrinky to me.”

  “You hate it,” Tommy says, propping himself up on his arm. “Promise you won’t start lying to me, you’ll stay real.”

  “I promise.” And from this moment forward, I will. He doesn’t need to know that I didn’t tell him the real reason I don’t want to go to Destin.

  He lowers himself for one more kiss before rolling over to get his shirt. I watch him, so strong both physically and emotionally. I’m ashamed to admit what he’s too polite to say, that I’ve failed him the past few days.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He sits back down on the bed beside me.

  “For everything. The way I’ve been acting—you’re the one who’s sick, and here I am, falling apart.”

  “It’s okay,” he says, forgiving me too easily.

  “It’s not. But starting today, I’m back,” I tell him. “I’m here, just let me know what I can do. What can I do?”

  “You can be here, loving me.”

  “Done. What else?”

  “You can try to understand . . .” I know the words aren’t easy to find, so I reach up and rest my hand on his cheek. “I know you don’t agree with me, but you can try to understand my decision.”

  I bite my lip. That’s the one thing I don’t know if I can do. I look past him to where the notepad sits, full of hope.

  “And you can reconsider going to Destin.”

  The other one thing I don’t know if I can do.

  As quickly as it disappeared, the tension I’ve been carrying around for days is back, making itself at home across my shoulders and down to my toes. Anything else I would do for him. Anything.

  I don’t really think Tommy has a clue that Monica is back in Destin. Not that it would matter much to him if he did; he doesn’t have as much to lose. I’m not exactly jealous of her anymore. I don’t doubt for a second that he loves me. But I also know better than to underestimate the attraction to a beautiful woman and the power of fame.

  And CeCe. The town’s just too small, and it’s too risky. If she finds out, she’ll think Monica is the reason I haven’t wanted her to pursue acting. But that’s not all of it. I’ve been on the other side of the casting couch, seeing over a hundred girls audition for a part that only one girl will get. The part that ninety-nine girls won’t. Being a teenager is hard enough without willingly putting yourself out there for people to reject you.

  Plus, it wouldn’t be fair leaving Becky alone to handle everything back here. I made a commitment to her when we went out on our own to open the agency. She would have been happy to go on working for someone else, but she believed in me and my dream of opening up a woman-owned agency that could compete with the old boys’ clubs. I convinced her to walk away from a steady paycheck, from our 401k match and insurance plans we didn’t have to think or worry about.

  “I just want one more summer,” he says, trying his best to convince me. I know he hates being landlocked in Atlanta, that he would never have moved so far away from the ocean if my career hadn’t kept me here.

  I reach for the notepad. I guess now is as good a time as any to bring it up.

  “What if I gave you the beach? An even better beach. In Mexico.” Tommy looks confused. “I found this clinic in Tijuana, they have natural cures, things like—”

  “No.”

  “But—”

  “Goddammit, Lexie. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

  The words I want to say are caught in my throat—why can’t he see that’s the opposite of what I’m trying to do?

  “I’ve got a patient.”

  He turns and goes without kissing me goodbye, leaving me with a sinking feeling that I’m a horrible, selfish person who doesn’t deserve him.

  Chapter Nine

  CeCe

  Earth to CeCe,” Sofia says, putting her lunch tray down at our usual table. “Did you hear me? I said my life is over.”

  “Sorry, what?”

  Sofia sits down next to me in a huff. “It’s like you’re not even here half the time.”

  She isn’t wrong. Since I found out last week, it’s like there’s a dark cloud following me. It’s literally impossible to think of anything other than what’s happening at home, especially when there are reminders everywhere. Anytime someone coughs or even says the word “dad,” my heart drops.

  “Hello?” Sofia says again.

  “Sorry, what’s going on?”

  I stop listening before she even starts to talk, focusing instead on my brown paper lunch bag. Inside, I find a tightly wrapped tinfoil package. I unwrap it slowly, like a present, revealing a sliced baguette with fresh mozzarella, sliced Roma tomatoes, and torn pieces of basil. Well done, Dad. His pairing skills could use some work, considering the bag of Cheetos along with it, but he’s come a long way since I got him watching Food Network with me.

  A note falls out of the napkin, surprising me even though I knew there would be one in there somewhere. There always is. I unfold the paper and read his familiar handwriting, this one lyrics from a song by a band he and Mom like.

  “If I had wings and I could fly,

  Well, I’d still walk with you.”

  —Sister Hazel

  I fold the note and tuck it in my pocket so I won’t forget to add it to the others in the shoeboxes under my bed. Just a few weeks ago, I was thinking that it might be time to start another box. Now, I’ll be happy if there will be enough notes, enough time, to fill the current one.

  “Can you believe it?” Sofia shakes her head.

  “No, I can’t,” I say, hoping I can jump back into the conversation without it being obvious I zoned out again. Lauren and Bella have joined our table, so hopefully it will be easier to get by without paying attention—or worse, having to talk about what’s going on with me.

  Sofia’s the only one I told about my dad, and I swore her to secrecy. I don’t want my friends acting strange around me; it’s already been weird enough at home. Mom went from being like a sleepwalking stranger to a super-peppy cheerleader overnight, trying to act like everything is going to be okay when we all know it won’t be.

  “My dad told me I’m grounded for the rest of the school year,” Sofia says as if it’s the worst thing in the world. It feels like a million years ago that I thought being grounded was the worst thing that could happen to me. I was so stupid.

  “Parents suck,” I hear Liam say from behind me. He takes the empty chair next to mine and turns it around before sitting backward in it. “How’s my fair Juliet?”

  I can’t help but blush even though I’m pretty sure he’s just acting like he likes me because of the play. A junior like him would never really be interested in a freshman like me.

  “Ready for rehearsal tonight?” he asks, smiling that crooked smile.

  Tonight’s the night we’re rehearsing the scene with the kiss. I haven’t fully decided if we should just pretend or really go for it like Liam wants to.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” I smile and take an awkwardly small bite of my sandwich.

  “I hope there isn’t garlic in there,” Liam whispers. He stands up to join his regular table, but before he goes, he gives my glasses a little push back up my nose. I’d been so distracted by his warm breath tickling my ear that I hadn’t noticed they’d fallen.

  “You are so lucky,” Lauren says as soon as he’s out of earshot.

  The luckiest. The voice in my head is full of sarcasm, but I can’t blame Lauren since she and most everyone else don’t know I’m probably the unluckiest girl in the world right now.

  But then I glance up and see Sofia giving Laure
n a look that screams shut up. And then Lauren stares at me, her wide eyes a dead giveaway. I look around the table and realize every single one of them is watching me with the same sad eyes. Stupid Sofia. And stupid me for trusting her.

  I push my chair back so fast, the metal legs squeak offensively loud against the floor. I’ve got to get away from their stupid sympathy. I keep my eyes on the ground, stuffing my uneaten lunch in the trash can as I walk by, making a beeline for the double doors.

  There are still thirty-five minutes before the next class starts, and we’re only allowed to be in the cafeteria or the library during lunch. Since I can’t go back to the cafeteria, I head toward the library. But the thought of being in that quiet room makes my head want to explode.

  Instead, I turn left down the hallway, hoping the door to the theater will be unlocked. I take a deep breath and turn the handle. Sure enough, the door gives. I look behind me, and the coast is miraculously clear, so I slip inside before someone catches me.

  The room is dark with nothing but the ghost light shining in the middle of the stage. I start slowly down the aisle, my steps getting quicker with the incline. I choose a row far back enough that the light doesn’t reach me if anyone were to open the door and look inside. The velvet of the chair feels soft against my legs, and I rub the cushion as if it were a teddy bear.

  I wish I could stay in here all day. Skipping a few classes would certainly be better than the way Mom handled the news. Maybe I should just get drunk like she did. I didn’t like the taste of beer at Liam’s party, but I liked the way it made me feel—light and happy, like I didn’t have a care in the world.

  Although I didn’t really have a care in the world back then.

  The door to the theater opens and light floods the room. I sink lower in the chair, hoping whoever it is will go away.

  No such luck.

  I hear steps, slow and steady as they come down the aisle. They’re getting closer. My eyes have adjusted to the lack of light and I see a tall, slender shadow stop at the end of my row. The shadow walks closer, and I recognize the woodsy smell of his cologne.

  I sit back up. “You scared me.”

  “How’d you know it was me?” Liam asks, walking down the row toward me.

  “I smelled you.” It’s easier to talk to him when I don’t have to worry about getting lost in those deep brown eyes.

  “Do I smell?” He sniffs and I imagine him dropping his head to smell his collar.

  “It’s good,” I assure him. “Your cologne.”

  “Curve for Men,” he says. “My sister got it for me.”

  I nod, forgetting it’s dark enough that he probably can’t see.

  Liam takes another step toward me, feeling for the seat. He sits down and lifts the armrest between us. “Now you can smell me even better.”

  My stomach does a little flip; I’m doubly nervous now that he’s sitting so close. “Is that what you came in here for?”

  “I saw you run out of the cafeteria.”

  “I didn’t run,” I say, defending myself.

  “You looked upset. You weren’t in the library, so I figured you might be in here.”

  “Am I that predictable?” I ask, flattered he would worry about me. Maybe he really does like me.

  “I just assumed you wanted to get a head start for practicing our scene?” Liam clears his throat and I hope he can’t see me blush. “I will kiss thy lips,” he says.

  “That’s my line,” I say, even though it would be much easier if the roles were reversed.

  “Then go ahead—you say it.”

  “I will kiss thy lips,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound as shaky as it feels. But his knees are touching my knees, and it’s like there’s literal electricity coursing through our bodies. “Haply some poison yet doth hang on them.”

  This is the part where I’m supposed to lean down and kiss Romeo, hoping to die because life isn’t worth living without him. I didn’t understand that before, how the thought of living without someone could be worse than the thought of being dead. But I understand now. My chest feels tight and it’s getting hard to breathe.

  “I’m waiting for my kiss, fair Juliet,” Liam says. He’s right beside me, but his voice sounds far away. I want to say something back, but I can’t. I can’t breathe. I can hear my heart beating in my ears and suddenly my breath is the loudest thing in the room.

  “CeCe?” Liam’s voice sounds a thousand miles away. “It’s okay, we don’t have to. Just breathe.” He takes my hand in his, running his thumb over the back of my hand. He inhales and exhales slowly.

  I focus on his face in the dim light and imitate his breathing pattern, in slowly, then out slowly. In, then out. A few more times, and my breathing is back to normal so I can die of total embarrassment instead.

  “You okay?” He squeezes my hand and I realize he’s sitting even closer now, his knee wedged between mine.

  “Yeah,” I say. “Sorry, I was just thinking about the scene.”

  “The kiss?”

  I shake my head. “The idea of loving someone so much that you’d rather die than live without them.” I turn my face away as if that could stop him from seeing me. I didn’t mean to be this honest with him, but the truth is much less weird than what he’s probably thinking.

  “I can’t imagine,” he says. I turn back toward him. His breath smells like onion rings and barbecue sauce. “To love someone like that and then lose them.” I know he’s talking about the play—to him, the emotion is just pretend. I wish I could just pretend again, too.

  I close my eyes and try to forget that the one person I really do love that much actually is dying. I try to forget that my so-called best friend betrayed me and told everyone all about everything like I was just the latest piece of gossip. I try to forget that we could get in trouble just by being here. I try to forget that he’s Liam and I’m Cecelia. Instead, in this moment, he’s Romeo and I’m Juliet.

  As Romeo reaches up and runs his hand down Juliet’s face, she starts to relax. And as Romeo gets closer, she tilts her head up ever so slightly like they do in the movies. She waits for Romeo to make the first move, and when his lips brush against hers, it’s like she comes to life.

  I am Juliet and he is Romeo.

  His tongue pushes against my lips and I open my mouth, letting him slip inside. His tongue tangles with mine before darting in and out of my mouth. I’m outside of my head and then I’m back in it, suddenly nervous and wondering if I’m doing it right and if kissing is supposed to feel this strange. If it’s supposed to be this noisy.

  “Cecelia,” Liam moans into my mouth.

  He said my name, not “Juliet.” I’m trying not to think too much about what it means, if anything. As soon as I stop thinking about how I’m supposed to be kissing him, it feels more normal to actually be kissing him. I turn my head and we naturally fall into rhythm. It’s not all that different from dancing.

  I pull away but he quickly closes the gap, his lips back on mine. Feeling a little bolder, I try slipping my tongue inside his mouth.

  Holy shit. I’m kissing Liam Donnelly. And we’re not acting. He reaches for my hand and I let him hold it as we keep kissing. He slowly brings my hand to his knee and I let go. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do, so I give it a little squeeze, which must be a good thing, because he moans into my mouth again.

  He laces his fingers between mine, pulling my hand closer, guiding it toward his lap. I realize what he’s doing just in time to pull away.

  The bell sounds, signaling the end of the lunch hour.

  Liam sighs, as disappointed as I am relieved. “Parting is such sweet sorrow,” he says.

  “That’s my line, too.” I smile and tilt my head up toward his, hoping he’ll kiss me again, but he doesn’t.

  “You can go out first,” he says. “I need a minute.”

  I stand and make my way back up the aisle, stumbling out the door and into the harsh light. The hallway is crowded, and no one seems to no
tice me slipping out of the theater. I bring my hand to my lips; they feel like rubber, like they don’t belong to me anymore.

  The moment is only slightly dampened when I realize I can’t tell Sofia what happened since I’m still so mad at her, although not telling her is probably the best revenge. I smile and open the door to English, holding my head high as I walk past the desk where I usually sit next to Sofia, and take a seat in the back row instead.

  Chapter Ten

  Alexis

  It just started,” Tommy whispers as I slide into the aisle seat beside him.

  “I stopped to get flowers,” I tell him, holding up the bouquet of red roses I grabbed at Publix on my way to the high school. I don’t mention the fact that I was also twenty minutes late leaving the office thanks to more last-minute changes that came in from the client.

  “Me, too,” Tommy says softly, nodding toward a beautiful bouquet of purple wildflowers wrapped in burlap. I should have thought to get something purple.

  “Shh,” someone behind us loud-whispers.

  I shrug an apology and focus on the stage, where the set is more elaborate and professional-looking than I remember high school productions being.

  The stage has been transformed into the streets of Verona, where two servants from the House of Capulet are talking with disgust about the House of Montague. Before I can fully grasp what’s happening, a brawl breaks out between the Capulet and Montague servants. I think? I should have paid more attention in my literature classes.

  In the next scene, the young boy who plays Juliet’s father is discussing his daughter’s, my daughter’s, hand in marriage. He asks the young man playing Paris to wait two years until Juliet is sixteen.

  I steal a look at Tommy. His eyes are riveted on the stage, and I wonder if he’s thinking what I am: that giving his blessing to the young man that will one day want to marry CeCe is just one in a lifetime of things he won’t be here to do.

  I take a deep breath and blink away the tears just in time to see CeCe take the stage. I hope she can see okay without her glasses. Even dressed in a nightgown, she looks beautiful as Lady Capulet tries to convince her she should accept the courtship of Paris, the young man selected by her father.