Perhaps (Book 1) | ✔

ACT III - Scene 1

Gloria's home — her bedroom

Thanksgiving Break had finally started—after what felt like an eternity later. The last two weeks had gone by so slowly. It had been unbearable.

Riley had dropped out of the musical, and Professor Baron had cast Blake as his replacement. None of us were given a reason why, but I knew why.

He had dropped out because of me.

Sean had spoken with me the day Riley's withdrawal was announced, wanting to know if I knew anything. I couldn't tell him what I really knew; so I had lied and said no, but that I would try calling Riley and find out what was going on. And I had: I had called him until his phone started going straight to voicemail. I wanted him to talk to him: to convince him to come back because he had worked so hard. But he didn't return any of my calls, or respond to my voicemails or text messages.

He can't stand to look at you. He can't stand to even talk to you. He can't forgive himself.

A few days after I had bombarded Riley's voicemail box with desperate voicemail after desperate voicemail, Sean came to me again and told me to give Riley some space. I knew then that Sean had spoken to him. On one hand, at least Riley was speaking to someone; but, on the other hand, the thought of Sean knowing exactly what had happened between Riley and I made my stomach churn. Still, I nodded and said I would stop calling him.

And so I stopped calling.

Professor Baron had us practicing longer hours now, because Blake had a lot of catching up to do to get on par with the rest of us. We were now staying later each night, and he had added in Saturday rehearsals as well. Blake had caught on quickly, but the department head had been in love with the way Riley had portrayed 'Lucas'. He was always nitpicking everything Blake did, and I felt sorry for him. It wasn't like his 'Lucas' was bad or anything. He was a very good actor.
But he wasn't as good as Riley.

More money had been drained from my account. Tuition was due on December 1st, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to afford it now. I had stopped hounding my parents for answers, and had stopped demanding that they actually start caring about what was happening. It was clear that they didn't care about anything except continuing to bicker with one another. I wished that they would do less fighting and more fixing...

And then, on top of the Riley problems and the money problems and the parent problems, there was Professor Lee.

My Professor Lee...

I had remained in the back of his classroom, sitting in my original seat by the back window and rarely speaking. I noticed that he no longer tried to call on me to answer questions, or to read from the textbook; and I was extremely grateful. I didn't want that anymore. After Halloween night, when he had found me topless and crumpled on the floor of my dressing room, I didn't want him to ever notice me again.

But his eyes seemed to follow me wherever I went.

It wasn't uncommon for me to catch him staring at me during class or during rehearsals. There were moments when our eyes would connect, and I could see that he was still worried about me. And really, how could he not be after what he had seen? I knew that it was probably against some university policy that he hadn't reported it—maybe he was even breaking the law—but I was so relieved that he had heeded my pleas and had stayed silent. Now, if only he could forget about it and stop staring at me.

If only I could forget about it.

I threw myself into dance and the rehearsals, and the more I did that, the better I felt. At least, for a little while. I didn't have to think about Riley or my parents or my money or even Professor Lee when I was so focused on my lines and my form. I welcomed any and all distractions I could find. I relished in them. They were the only way I could escape the weight that was threatening to crush me.