Chapter 25
twenty-five
. . .
Jordana
The next day, everyone on campus was talking about the show.
The review in the Friday edition of the Hawthorne Herald said it was the best production the school had put on in years. “All Aboard this Streetcar for a Raw and Poetic Ride” shouted the headline.
I sent the link to each of my parents. Predictably, they didn’t respond. But I was too excited to care.
After the opening show, Rachel had insisted on treating everyone to a late-night extravaganza at Uncle Charlie’s. We’d taken over the booths and barstools, sipping sodas and floats. The energy was high and giddy, but there was a clear division between students and non-students.
Gavin was there, looking delicious and painfully off-limits. Rachel kept him busy hobnobbing with the faculty. We managed to exchange smiles, but there was no chance to speak with him, and by the time we left Uncle Charlie’s, I was exhausted.
Still, I kept checking my phone on the walk home, finally sending a text.
You looked good tonight. Tired, going to sleep now. Hang out soon?
I cursed myself as soon as I sent it. “Hanging out” was not what we’d been doing for the past five days.
My heart leapt when he texted back.
You were brilliant tonight. Rest up and sweet dreams. Would love to hang out soon.
But he didn’t call me kitten. And although I slept soundly in my bed, it felt empty.
The second show sold out and soared even higher than the first.
Blanche felt stronger tonight. Louder. So that’s how I played her. Corey and Eden might have been surprised by how much space she took up, but they worked it seamlessly into their performances.
Whatever went down offstage, at least there was this. At least we worked together in a perfect triangle.
There was an iconic moment early in the play, during Stanley and Blanche’s first awkward meeting, when he stripped off his sweaty shirt. On opening night, a few scattered whistles had met the sight of Corey’s bare chest. Tonight, a raucous cheer rose up.
“Take it off!” a girl yelled.
Laughter followed. I let it pass before continuing with my line.
When the show ended, the applause was deafening.
Outside, girls mobbed Corey, giving him their programs to sign. One girl actually lifted her shirt, revealing her tits in a red bra, and handed him a Sharpie.
He had to be eating this up. Hopefully, the attention would fill that hole inside him, the darkness he’d talked about, and prevent him from causing any trouble.
When the crowds died down, I went backstage to get my purse. Corey was pacing the hallway alone, wearing a sweat-stained undershirt and pants with the top button undone, muttering to himself.
“Fucking sex symbol,” he growled. “Take it off! That’s not what I’m here for.
Signing girls’ tits, what the hell was that about?
” Catching sight of me, he halted, hair hanging in his eyes.
“You. You’re still changing your Blanche all over the place.
One night, you whisper a line. The next night, you scream it. Tomorrow, Stanley’s changing too.”
Up close, his blue eyes were bloodshot, and his skin looked greasy under his stage makeup.
“Corey, what is going on? You look terrible—”
“Stop looking at me!” His hand shot out as if to block my vision. “Stop acting like you care. You’ve been talking to that bastard about me, haven’t you? Pretending you need his protection. If you keep that up, you’re only making it more clear what you really want.”
“And what exactly do I want?” I snapped.
“To find out who’s stronger. Which one of us can fucking destroy you.”
“You’re wrong.” I took a step back. “I’m not interested in a pissing contest between the two of you.”
“No? That’s because he’d lose. He doesn’t understand the first thing about you or me.”
“Jorie?” Eden's voice floated through the hallway. “Are you back here?”
Corey’s face transformed as Eden came into view.
“If it isn’t my beautiful wife,” he said with a smile. “You were amazing tonight, as always.”
“Oh!” Eden blinked. “You're both here. Jorie, are you all right? You seem—”
“Tired,” Corey finished smoothly. “She was just telling me the show wiped her out. Jorie, why don’t you go home and rest? Eden, you and I can go out and—”
“I feel fine,” I cut in.
“Actually, Jorie and I have plans. We're going to the Fall Leaf Festival.” Eden gave Corey a quick hug. “Talk to you later, okay?”
“Great. Okay. You girls have a good time.” He smiled at her, then glanced at me, his blue eyes stretched and pale around the edges.
Candles flickered at the corners of Eden’s patchwork quilt, spread out on the rooftop deck of our apartment building.
We lay side by side. Overhead, stars made pinpoints in the inky sky. The moon was a golden wedge. Music and laughter drifted on the wind.
We giggled, passing my vape back and forth.
Eden had never vaped with me before. I’d been shocked when she asked for a hit. Now, after four passes, her eyes were glossy and relaxed. It would be a perfect scene for Typecast — Eden, the good girl, getting high for the first time before we went to the festival.
I opened my mouth to tell her about the show I was creating for us. The writing I did in private, which Gavin had encouraged me to bring into the open.
“There’s one thing I hate about Streetcar,” Eden said suddenly.
I rolled to face her. “What is it?”
“I hate that Stella doesn’t believe Blanche at the end of the play. Everything else Stella does, even loving Stanley and forgiving him for his violent rages, I understand. But I hate her so much for what she does to her sister that it’s hard for me to play that last scene.”
I took her hand. “You think she doesn’t believe her? Or that she suspects the truth and doesn’t want to see it?”
“The second one. She knows, Jorie. She knows Stanley raped Blanche, and she turns her back on it. I can’t believe that Stella would be so stupid as to truly think Stanley is innocent. She chooses him over her sister, knowing the truth. She sacrifices Blanche for her marriage.”
Would you choose Corey over me, if you knew the truth?
“I need to talk to you about Corey,” she murmured, as if she’d read my mind.
This was it. I had to tell her, no matter how ashamed I was.
No matter how much I wanted to protect Eden from the ugliness of the world.
But how would she react? Eden and I respected each other.
She would lose all respect for me if she knew I’d let Corey treat me like dirt.
That I’d hidden our affair from her for so long.
I couldn’t stand to lose my best friend. I couldn’t bear to hurt her, either.
Eden drew her fingers dreamily through her hair. “He’s been so sweet this week. Keeping me company, looking out for me. It really feels like he’s been working on himself since last year and he’s trying to be as thoughtful as possible.”
I swallowed hard. “Eden —”
“I’ll be honest, Jorie, I’m so happy you met Gavin, but I’ve been kind of lonely. Corey seemed to sense that. He stepped in right when I needed someone.”
“I don’t want you to be lonely,” I began.
“Lately, he’s made me feel things. The kind of things people talk about that I never really believed.
Like animal attraction, Jorie. Sometimes when I stand close to him, I feel like I’m going to faint.
I feel sexy. I’ve never felt that way before.
And it seems like he wants me in a way that he didn’t last year. You know what I mean?”
“I know,” I said quietly.
“I shouldn’t let it happen, but I keep hanging out with him, so… God, what am I doing? He’s been so nice to me all week. But underneath that, he feels wild. He makes me want to be wild.” She giggled. “What’s going on?”
“Pheromones. Your body chemistry likes his body chemistry. Doesn’t mean you need to do anything about it.”
“Mmm.” Eden gazed at the sky.
“Eden, listen —”
She grabbed my hand. “I don’t want a relationship right now. You know that. But it feels so good when he gives me attention that I don’t want it to end.”
“Look, you’re feeling some intense things, but getting back together with Corey is not a good idea.”
“Of course not. I’m not going to.” Her resolute expression wilted, as if the high were playing games with her mind. “But…why?”
Did I really have to spill my whole shameful history if she had no intention of dating Corey again? The truth, Jorie.
I screwed up my courage.
“Honey, the way Corey is with women…” I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest. “He’s not as respectful as he might have made you believe.”
She laughed. “Maybe I don’t want respectful. Everyone’s too well-behaved around me. ‘Eden’s so good! Eden’s so law-abiding! Shhh, don’t offend Eden!’ I’m sick of it.” She got to her feet. “My head’s all heavy and the lights are so pretty. Let’s go have fun.”
“Eden, we really need to talk—”
“Forget talking!” She winked. “Tonight, we’re not talking, we’re doing. Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen. I just like it when Corey thinks something might happen.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “You feel okay?”
“I feel greeeaaaaat.” Giggling, she blew out the candles and bundled up the patchwork quilt.
Paper lanterns swayed overhead, lighting colorful booths on either side of the street. Arm in arm, Eden and I shivered in our thin, flowy dresses, the breeze almost blowing our flowered wreaths away.
It was a Hawthorne tradition to dress up as fairies and woodland spirits for the Fall Leaf Festival, dating back to an outdoor performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream at the first festival fifty years ago.
Never mind that the season was off, or that temperatures could drop to freezing on October nights — the tradition still held strong.
People of all ages, resplendent in face paint, glitter, and wings, talked, laughed, and ate. Cozy autumn smells wafted on the air: cinnamon, apple, caramel, and freshly popped corn.