"Not bad, but not as fast as I'd hoped. There aren't enough hours in the day."
"Story of m'life, mate. If there's anything I can do to help, hit me up. You're not doing this alone. It's a team effort, which is code for ‘both our arses are on the line.’ "
"You sure Tabitha is okay with this? It's a lot of money." I guess I'd sort of had an idea about the cost of one of these things, but until Grayson sat down and laid it all out, I'd been in a happy little world of denial.
It's a lot of money.
"Tabitha says she's all in. But if it'd make you feel better to put together a number or two to show her, have at it."
I exhale. It's not a bad idea, but it'd be a lot of work. We're starting rehearsals forAn American in Paristomorrow, having just wrappedRock of Ages. It's the last time for the summer we'll be in double rehearsals. This is the point in the season where burnout starts to set in. I'm not sure anyone in the cast or crew has anything extra to give.
"I'll work on it. Is she staying through for the season?" When we openParis, we won't be rehearsing for another show. "I might be able to teach to some cast something that last week so we have something to perform for Tabitha."
Henderson stands up. "Tabitha's staying on through, so she's got some time. Sounds like a solid plan. I'll let her know. One number, maybe two?" He looks hopeful.
"Sure thing." I should shut my mouth before I commit to anything else. When Henderson leaves, I bang my head on the keys, the disharmony echoing through the music room.
"I don't know much about music, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to play the piano with your face."
I don't lift my head when I hear Leslie's voice. Even though it's been almost two weeks since that kiss, I can't stop thinking about it. But we agreed on friends, which is all she can do right now.
It's been easier for me to avoid her than to have to fight my feelings. The irony of that is not lost on me. Plus, I've been super busy. I think she has too. She got pulled right into helping Gloria with the camp and is entrenched with the current production ofSomething Rotten. There's not a lot of time for fraternizing.
I mean, I'm sure I could find the time if I wanted to. Which I do. Which is why I don't find the time.
Not to mention this stupid show.
We haven't made any public announcements yet. We're waiting until the end of the season before making it official. I'm happy for the breather to give me more time to work on it. Once the announcement is made, the pressure is going to ratchet up exponentially.
I should tell Leslie at least. It's something a friend would share with another friend.
Sitting up, I open my mouth to tell her aboutHonor Code. Instead, I ramble, "Are you ready forParis? Kori said she started working with you last week on some of the dance stuff. Do you know which show you'll be doing the lead in? Are your parents coming out to see you? Did you ever talk to your sister?"
Jesus, I sound like an idiot.
"I've been putting off calling Meri. I know I should. I need to talk to Malachi about it before I do it. See if he can tell me what to say."
I didn't think this was how things worked with a psychologist. I went through some counseling after my parents died, but maybe therapy is different? "Is that what he does? Tell you what to do?"
She laughs. "No. In fact, every time I tell him I want him to tell me how to fix things, he laughs. Like actually laughs at me. And then he makes me figure out what the actual issue is, and then I have to actually work on it."
"So what you're saying is that if you put in the effort to figure out the problem from the onset, you wouldn't have to pay him?"
"Yeah, but I feel so much more authentic spending tons of money that I don't have," Leslie laughs. "I could never in a million years get to the bottom of most of my issues without him. He totally steers me in the right direction. Like, did you know that my eating disorder wasn't about food? It was about my attempt to control something because I had no control over my race and how different I was from everyone else."
I try to make sense of what she's saying. "Explain that again?"
"So I couldn't control the fact that I'm biracial. Obviously. It's who I am. But, compared to everyone else in my class in Ohio, I looked black. And then to the black community, I'm light. It's exhausting trying to fit in but never succeeding. And I couldn't control the fact that I hit puberty and developed curves, especially when no one else in class had matured that way yet. I couldn't control the fact that my frame was more muscular and less willowy. What I could control was what I ate. I thought I was doing it to make my body better, but in reality, it was more of a rejection of all those things I perceived as wrong about myself."
That actually does make sense. "So it wasn't because you thought you were fat?"
She shakes her head. "I never did think I was fat. But I was trying to change something about my body that isn't meant to be changed. It would be like trying to change my skin color. It was futile, which is why I never achieved any sort of satisfying resolution."
"And Malachi Andrews helped you figure this out?"
She nods. "Everyone, including myself, just figured it was about thinking I was overweight. I never did, because no matter what I weighed, my body looked the same to me."
I think back to the body that I sawallof that summer. It was firm and tight in all the right places and curvy where you would want it to be. "You looked perfect to me. You still do."
