Miss Jefferson

Chapter 18

The show ended, and we took our final bows.

I walked down to the ensemble dressing room, smiling like an idiot.

My first performance as understudy was over.

I'd get to do it again tomorrow, and the day after that too.

Then Daveed would come home.

After I'd changed and hung my costume up next to the others from that night, I slipped my backpack on and walked down to Jazzy's room.

While in the hallway, I slammed into Anthony.

"Watch it, stupid." I muttered, rubbing my arm.

"Where're you going?" He asked, but his voice had changed. His tone was rushed and urgent, and his tone was never rushed and urgent.

I looked up. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were wild. "I was gonna go down to Jazzy's dressing room. Why do you ask—"

"Hmmm, nope. You-you can't go down there." He stuttered, grabbing ahold of my arm.

"Anthony, what the hec—"

"Come on! You gotta come this way." He dragged me passed doors and stairways and more doors, all the way down to his own dressing room.

"Anthony!" I struggled to get free of his grasp. "Let me go!"

He shook his head frantically. "I gotta stick to the plan! Oh shoot." He clapped a hand over his mouth.

"What plan?"

Jasmine appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

She grabbed Anthony and hauled him aside, taking my hand and urging me through the door. "Nothing! There is no plan!"

"See you in about ten or eleven minutes!" Anthony waved at me before sprinting down the hallway, Jazzy right on his heels.

"What the heck was that?" I mumbled under my breath.

"I think they set us up."

I jumped at Oak's voice. "Gosh, you scared me." I exhaled shakily and audibly as I turned around. "Set us up?" I asked as I regained composure.

He nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I was supposed to do it myself, but I guess they wanted to partake."

My stomach dropped. "What are you talking about?"

He met my gaze, and again his eyes were trying to speak to me. "I really need to explain. I know you're upset with me, and you have every reason to be, but please,"

I crossed my arms. "I've accepted it. I'm not really 'upset' anymore. But I also would appreciate some clarity."

He gestured for me to take a seat.

He sat down next to me.

He took a deep breath, beginning. "We we're going steady, right?"

"More than steady, I'd say. I really thought we were going to work." I said.

He nodded. "Yeah, exactly. And then I found Martha again. She still liked me, and I thought that I still liked her. So I ditched you."

"Over a text message, I might add."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I know, I know. But then, after about a day into that again, I realized that I didn't like her. Not like I liked you. And then, it hit me, everything I'd lost. Everything I'd given up,"

"What did you lose?" I asked, my tone sounding accusing.

"You." He said, his voice near breaking. "I lost you. I gave you up. And it took me too long to understand that I never should've done that. That I wouldn't ever find anyone else like you. That I could search the world for a million years and never find you again. That I would never..." he took a sharp inhale, "that I would never love anyone like I loved you."