Page 15 of Love, Lucy


  I can’t quit till I’ve shown her I earned this part, she told herself. What will it hurt if I wait until after rehearsal?

  That night, Lucy threw her whole self into her performance, so there could be no doubt about her talent. Even after Celia left the auditorium with the rest of the chorus, Lucy gave everything she had, inhabiting Maureen’s confidence, her magnetism. This is the last time I’ll ever feel this way, she thought. I’d better make it count. When the time came to sing, she belted out her part until her own voice echoed against the far walls, filling the space to its brim.

  From her seat in the front row, Marcella watched with an unreadable expression on her face. But when Lucy reached the end of the number, the director turned to address the cast members scattered throughout the room. “Hear that, gang? That’s how it’s done.”

  Gratified, Lucy scanned the auditorium. From their table at the front of the stage, the assistant director and stage manager were nodding approvingly. Midway back, Cleo and Matteo were grinning broadly. And even farther back, in the shadows of the last row, Lucy spotted a familiar face with an encouraging look in his dark eyes. Lucy smiled gratefully, then did a double take.

  “Are you okay, Lucy?” Marcella asked.

  “I’m fine.” Lucy returned her attention to the director. But as soon as she could, she checked the back row again, only to find that whoever it was she’d seen had vanished.

  I’m losing my mind, Lucy thought, struggling to focus on Marcella’s praise and instructions. There was no way Jesse was on this continent, much less in this room. Even so, Lucy felt shaken. The feeling stuck with her even after Marcella had dismissed the cast for the night. As Marcella and Ben conferred about the rehearsal, Lucy hesitated at the edge of the stage. She knew she should wait for the right moment, then march up and quit the play. But seeing Jesse’s look-alike had rattled her. As the auditorium emptied, she looked around, checking every face. Wherever Jesse’s twin had gone, he hadn’t come back.

  Before she could act, Cleo and Matteo flailed their arms, trying to get her attention.

  “Come out with us for coffee!” Cleo shouted.

  Lucy took a tentative step down from the stage, then checked over her shoulder. Marcella and Ben were still deep in conversation.

  “You owned that song,” Matteo said, giving Lucy his gap-toothed grin.

  “And you showed Celia and her evil minions a thing or two.” Cleo handed Lucy her coat.

  Lucy thanked her friends and followed them into the lobby.

  “Are you okay, Luce?” Cleo asked. “You seem weirded out.”

  “I am weirded out,” Lucy admitted. Through the glass walls of the lobby she could see that the wind had picked up and was whipping dried leaves around the lawn. “This is going to sound crazy, but while I was onstage, I swear I saw this guy I used to know. It was freaky, and now I’m all…” But before she could finish her thought, she noticed a figure across the road, standing in a cone of streetlight. Matteo and Cleo turned to see whatever it was Lucy was gaping at.

  But the shadowy person had seen her, too. He was striding toward her now, through the darkness and up the stairs, and she knew, with a shock that began at the soles of her feet and spread to the roots of her hair, that she hadn’t been hallucinating. Of all the people in the world, Jesse Palladino—her Jesse, who was supposed to be in Italy—had somehow materialized in front of her. She froze in place.

  “Who is that?” she heard Matteo whisper to Cleo.

  “No idea,” Cleo whispered back. “Is that your boyfriend?” she asked Lucy.

  “Yes,” Lucy said. Then, “No.”

  “Which is it?” Matteo asked.

  Lucy struggled to find her tongue. “I’m fine,” she told her friends. “It’s nothing.”

  “He doesn’t look like nothing.” Cleo gave Jesse the once-over.

  “I’ll catch up with you guys tomorrow.” Lucy tried to sound reassuringly normal.

  Cleo and Matteo looked questioningly at each other. “You’re sure?” Matteo asked.

  Lucy wasn’t sure of anything, except that something momentous seemed to be happening. Jesse, who had fallen off the face of the earth, was walking in her direction. She took a step closer, equal parts thrilled, alarmed, and angry.

  “I’m fine,” she lied, though her heart was pounding. Lucy hadn’t expected to ever see Jesse again, so she hadn’t worked out what she might say to him if she did. Should she throw her arms around him or give him the silent treatment—the same as he’d given her? Whichever it was, she didn’t want her friends around to watch. “Totally fine,” she added.

  Matteo and Cleo exchanged another look, then took off through the door, out into the night.

  In the brightly lit lobby, Jesse looked familiar yet different. His olive skin was a shade or two darker. Of course he’s tan, she thought. He’s been traveling all over Italy, having the time of his life, and not even thinking about me. His hair, still shiny and dark, had been trimmed short. He wore a sweater and khakis, the kind of thing any other boy on campus might wear. Something about these little changes in him felt like a betrayal.

  Lucy steeled herself. The expression on his face was eager and nervous. But she wasn’t about to forgive him, not after he’d blown her off so completely. Was he expecting her to run up and gather him in her arms? Well, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

  “How can you be here?” she asked.

  Jesse looked surprised. “I took a plane. And a bus. And then another bus.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Brain on overload, Lucy fumbled for words. “You’re supposed to be in Europe.”

  “Supposed to be?” His mouth twitched in a smile.

  Was he making fun of her? Before she could decide, he swooped in for a hug. She stiffened in his arms.

  Behind them, someone cleared his throat and Lucy wrenched herself out of Jesse’s arms to find Ben, the music director, standing awkwardly nearby. “I need to lock up the theater,” he said. “Sorry.”

  Lucy checked out the window to make sure nobody was watching, then led Jesse out into the night. During rehearsal, the temperature had plummeted; she paused in the shadow between streetlights, fumbling with the buttons of her coat. “How did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t hard,” he said. “I found the theater department’s phone number online. Then I called to ask when the next rehearsal would be.”

  “Oh, great. Now I feel cyberstalked.”

  “Stalked?” Jesse looked puzzled.

  “Well, I thought you were never coming back to the States.”

  “My cousin got married last weekend,” he said. “My parents flew me home for the wedding.”

  Lucy crossed her arms to create a little wall between them. “What are you doing in Philly, then?” she asked. On my campus, she thought.

  “I have friends here,” he said, wariness creeping into his voice. “I’m staying with this guy I know from high school. Peter Gregorian. He’s letting me sleep on his couch.”

  “You’re staying at Forsythe?” Lucy took another step back.

  “In Bradley Hall. Small world, right?”

  “And you just thought you’d swing by and say hi?”

  “Sure.” Jesse dug his hands into his pockets, looking perplexed, as though he couldn’t fathom why she might be angry at him, as though this whole scene were the most normal thing in the world, as though the two of them had been nothing but good buddies and he’d never disappeared from her life without so much as a good-bye.

  “But why?” Lucy asked, her voice hard. “Why would you want to see me?”

  Jesse frowned. “I just did. I thought you would be happy.… I mean, I thought you wouldn’t mind.…” He looked down at his sneakers and then back up at her, hurt in his eyes. “Aren’t you glad I’m here?”

  Hearing the confusion in his voice, Lucy felt a pang. “I missed you.” She knew that wasn’t the right thing to say, considering Shane and all.

  Before she had time to
take it back, though, Jesse’s arms were around her again, warm and familiar. He drew her closer, and then his lips were on hers and she was kissing him back, unable to stop herself, the feel and taste of him so delicious. For that moment they were back on that terrace in Fiesole, all of Tuscany spread around them, in the middle of a kiss she’d never wanted to end.

  “I missed you, too,” Jesse mumbled.

  “You did?” she asked. She wanted to believe him, but his words had broken the spell, reminding her of all that had happened since Italy. She slipped out of his arms and felt the cold of the Philadelphia night. “Then why did you delete your e-mail account? And without telling me how I could find you?” She fought to keep her voice level. More than anything, she wanted not to give away how much it had stung her when he fell silent. “You dropped off the face of the earth.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice wary.

  Lucy hugged herself for warmth. How could he just waltz up to her as though nothing had changed between them and expect her to be thrilled? Her imaginary version of Nello’s sister popped into her head—glossy black hair and one bare, perfect shoulder, the two of them traipsing hand in hand through the streets of Naples. “What about Angelina?”

  “What about her?” he asked, but something in his voice had changed.

  “Were you and she…” It took courage to voice the rest of the question, especially since all she had to go on was a wild guess and her own possibly irrational jealousy. “Did the two of you hook up?”

  Jesse looked embarrassed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said.

  “It matters to me,” she replied.

  He stood before her, not meeting her eyes, until she realized, with dismay, that she’d gotten her answer. “And now you show up at my rehearsal, out of the blue,” she said. “As if you thought I’d be waiting for you, like some pathetic loser.”

  “Lucy.” Before she could object, Jesse reached for her again. “I didn’t think that,” he said, his voice low.

  “As if it never occurred to you that I might move on, I might be with someone else,” Lucy said, pulling free of his grasp. What would Shane think if he could see her now? She looked around to see if anyone had been watching them, but the street in front of the Theater Arts building was empty.

  A few dried leaves blasted past. Lucy looked up at Jesse through the strands of her blown-about hair. “Because the thing is, I am seeing somebody.”

  Her words had their intended effect. Jesse’s face fell.

  Though Lucy had meant to discourage him, she immediately felt remorse. “I thought you’d forgotten all about me,” she added, her voice cracking.

  “No,” he said. “I could never forget you.”

  “I had no idea I’d ever hear from you again,” she continued. “If anybody had told me you would just appear like this, I’d have called them crazy. I’d say no, not Jesse, he’s going to spend the rest of his life hopping from city to city, having nothing but fun.”

  He shuffled his sneakers in the fallen leaves but didn’t reply.

  Lucy summoned all the strength she could and pointed up the path, toward Main Street. “So I think you should go back to New Jersey or Italy or wherever it is you’re living right now.” When he didn’t budge, she kept going. “Botswana, maybe. Or Tahiti. Wherever.” She looked away, off into the distance, to avoid seeing the hurt look in his eyes. “Anywhere but here.”

  “If that’s what you want.” He turned to go, and she fought the urge to change her mind and call after him.

  Halfway down the path, he paused to look over his shoulder. “You know, you were amazing back there. Onstage.”

  Stop being nice, Lucy thought, but her heart leaped at the compliment.

  “I knew you could sing, but I had no idea you could act like that. It’s so great that you’re in the play. In spite of everything.”

  “Oh,” Lucy said, the events of the day returning to her in a rush. “It’s not great, not really. I was going to quit tonight, after rehearsal, and then you showed up.…” She found herself telling him about her father’s latest ultimatum, and he paused, ten steps away, listening intently.

  “You can’t quit,” he said when she was through. “I’m glad I came here tonight, if it stopped you from quitting.”

  Lucy surveyed Jesse across the polite distance she’d put between them. Why was it so hard to stay angry at him?

  “Acting is your thing, Lucy,” he added. “Everybody deserves to have their thing.”

  Lucy hesitated, thinking hard. Her father’s decree did seem unreasonable. Did she really have to give up everything she loved? Shouldn’t she get to make some choices when it came to her own life?

  “I think so, too,” she admitted.

  “Well, then.” Jesse took a step back in her direction.

  “I guess my dad doesn’t have to know,” she said. “Does that make me a terrible person?”

  “Not remotely.” Jesse’s look warmed her, and for a moment she considered running to him, slipping her hand into his, and following him wherever he meant to go next.

  But I am terrible, she thought, remembering Shane.

  “I have to go,” she said, and she hurried away from Jesse, in the direction of her dorm.

  “Wait,” he called after her, but she didn’t dare stop. Once she started moving, she knew she was doing the right thing. She’d been wrong to let Jesse kiss her, and the longer she stood there in the darkness with him, the more likely she was to let it happen again. Jesse is the past; Shane is the future, she reminded herself. She kept walking in the direction of her dorm, imagining its warmly lit lobby and the friends that waited for her there.

  Just once, before she turned the corner, she let herself look back, in case Jesse was still standing where she’d left him. But by then he was gone.

  XX

  Lucy was jumpy in the days that followed. She worried that her father would find out she hadn’t quit the play. As Jesse had shown, all it would take was some minimal investigation—a call to the drama department or a little Internet sleuthing—for him to learn the truth. And as she walked to and from classes, she couldn’t shake the fear that she might turn a corner and bump into Jesse. For all she knew, he was still on campus, lurking in the shadows, waiting to step back into her path at the worst possible time. In fact, it seemed strange that he hadn’t come looking for her since the other night. Would he really let her go so easily?

  But as the days passed, Lucy had to admit to herself, with a mix of disappointment and relief, that he seemed to have given up.

  “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, he didn’t fly home just to see me,” she told Cleo and Matteo over post-rehearsal cappuccinos. “He was in New Jersey for a wedding. And he probably only came to Forsythe to visit his friend in Bradley Hall. I was an afterthought.”

  Matteo clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You can’t possibly believe that.”

  “We saw the look on his face,” Cleo said. “That boy’s got a serious yen for you.”

  Lucy looked doubtful. “I’m not the kind of girl people have a yen for,” she said.

  “You’re exactly that kind of girl,” Cleo said with a wicked smile. “Don’t forget: I’ve kissed you, so I know.” A couple of nights earlier, Cleo and Lucy had rehearsed a stage kiss, during the “La Vie Boheme” number. It had gone well—less awkwardly than Lucy had feared—but ever since, Cleo hadn’t missed an opportunity to tease her about it.

  “You’re making her blush,” Matteo observed, which only made Lucy burn an even brighter shade of red. “Face it, Lulabelle, the boy wants you.”

  “But I told him about Shane, so that’s that. He’s given up on me.”

  “Which is good news, right?” Cleo said. “Since, as you keep telling us, you’ve moved on.”

  “Yes.” Lucy tried her best to sound convincing. “It’s true. I have moved on.”

  “Speaking of which,” Matteo said, “when are you going to bring Shane around to hang out with us???
?

  “We want to check him out,” Cleo chimed in. “Give him our seal of approval.”

  Lucy gave a vague little shrug. “Soon,” she said. She had a pretty good idea that Shane would like Cleo and Matteo—hadn’t he said he was drawn to artsy types? And of course they would like him; why wouldn’t they? Even so, the idea made her uncomfortable, though she couldn’t have said why.

  “You’re not ashamed of us, are you?” Cleo asked. “Your weirdo drama geek friends?”

  “Of course not.” Lucy grabbed each of their hands and gave a quick squeeze. “I love my weirdo drama geek friends.”

  “Then why are you being so… elusive?” Matteo leveled his gaze on Lucy. “Are you afraid we’ll reveal your secrets? Like maybe we’ll tell your new boyfriend about your Italian boyfriend?”

  “Because you can just stop worrying. We’d never do that,” Cleo said. “We’re on your side, Lu.”

  “I know you are.”

  “Besides which, why don’t you tell him the truth?” Cleo asked her. “It’s not your fault Jesse just showed up out of the blue.”

  “Right,” Matteo said. “And it’s not like you’ve seen him since that night. So why not come clean?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucy said. This was the truth. She’d meant to. Just last night Shane had called to confer over their trip to New York, full of ideas about which play they could see and what new restaurants they should try. She’d attempted once or twice to bring up the subject of Jesse. But then Shane proposed that they make their trip the weekend after next.

  “I know that’s sooner than we planned,” he said. “But it turns out my cousin’s coming back to town right after that. So if we put off our trip, it could be months till we can have the apartment to ourselves.”

  “Oh,” Lucy said.

  “And we don’t want to wait that long, do we?”

  “Of course not,” she said, because it seemed like the right thing to say.

  “But only if you’re ready. I don’t mean to push you.”

  And Lucy had gotten flustered and forgotten the speech she’d been meaning to give. “It’s okay.” She fiddled with the diamond stud in her ear. “Don’t worry. The weekend after next will be fine.”