Pulled (11 page)

She smiles and places her hands on both of my shoulders. “This is an acting game one of my professors taught me. I have found it works really well for breaking the ice, which is exactly what I think we need here.” If she is trying to clarify her intentions with
that
explanation, she’s failing miserably.

“
Your job is easy. All you have to do is stand here and be quiet.” She gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I’m going out to the hall to catch Etash before he sees where I’ve put you.” That knowing grin spreads across her face again. I groan softly as she weaves in and out of the chairs to the door.

“
Ah, ah, ah! No noise,” she warns before disappearing from the room.
What on earth is she planning
? She closes the door loudly behind her and it echoes in the empty room.

With only the dull hum of the lights above, I’m left alone in silence, which starts to make me nervous. Several minutes pass before I hear some quiet argument outside. It could only be Etash and Prof—no, Elizabeth. I can’t help but grin when I hear Etash’s muffled protests at whatever game she has in store. My grin fades and my body tenses automatically when the stage door opens.

“
Naya,” Elizabeth
’
s voice comes from out in the hall, “remember not to move or make a sound or this won’t work.”

After a few seconds she comes into view. She’s dragging Etash by his arm into the theatre. No, strike that. She is
guiding
him to the stage because she has him blindfolded. Now I’m completely lost.

Once Etash is center stage she lets go of his arm and takes a few cautious steps back.

“
Etash, I have rearranged the chairs in the room. The house chairs are now scattered about the entire space. I have positioned Naya somewhere in the room. Your job is to try and find her and not a chair.”

She is positively giddy at the brilliance of her idea. “But go slowly. I don’t want you to hurt yourself, but do try and ‘sense’ where she is in the space. When you think you’ve gotten close, raise your hand. We’ll take off the blindfold and see how close--or how far away-- you are.”

This is not a bonding game; this is stupid. The only objective is to make fun of the hunter, to show how far away he is from his prey.

Elizabeth
slides quietly into one of the chairs on the stage. She pulls her knees up, wrapping her arms around her legs, as though hiding.

Etash’s reluctance at being forced into being the guinea pig in this twisted game is written all over his blindfolded face. After a couple of stubborn moments, he takes a few heavy steps forward, causing him to crash into one of the chairs just in front of him. Something obscene escapes his lips, and I hold back a smile. A few more cautious steps move him toward Elizabeth. She’s pleased at his misdirection. I shake my head and let out the tiniest of sighs, furious at her for putting him through this humiliation.

That’s when the unexpected happens. Etash stops his once cautious movements in mid-step. Slowly, his blindfolded eyes turn to the
exact
spot where he would meet my eyes if he could see. He turns away from Elizabeth, tilts his head to the side briefly, inhales, then starts marching in my direction, not hitting a single chair.

“
Etash, slowdown, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Elizabeth
cautions.

It’s true, he isn’t being careful at all. He’s walking faster than even a sighted person would be among all of these scattered chairs.

Elizabeth
is on her feet now, steps behind Etash; her eyes are filled with concern. This was
not
how the game was supposed to go down.

As he inches closer to me, a throbbing ache marches in time with my heart, spreading pain out to my rib cage, then to my lungs. The pressure building inside my chest is crushing me, making it almost impossible to breathe. I need air; I need help; I need...
him.

If I want this agony to stop, I need to be
closer
to Etash, not further away.

Ignoring all reason or thought, I find my legs moving towards him as he makes his way to me. I need to rip off his blindfold and look into his dark eyes and soothe him. I need to reach out and touch his hand to let him know he has found me. But just as I am about to reach out to take his hand, his finds mine, and in that instant, the pain is gone, and I am undone. The heat of his touch shoots through my body with a slow, soothing current. His skin on mine feels like a shot of morphine, warm and addictive.

He slowly raises our intertwined hands in the air and whispers. “I found her.”

“
So you have,” Elizabeth
gasps from somewhere behind us.

Etash

I yank off the blindfold unable to stand not being able to see her another second. I find her eyes first, they are kind and about to overflow with tears. Then I take in her beautiful face, which is now marked with angry bruises that do, in fact, mirror my scar. My hand reaches up and gently caresses her face, as though willing it to heal with my touch. She doesn't flinch away, but instead presses her head lightly against it.

It would be so easy for me to lower my head and press my lips to hers, to purge this craving raging inside me, but then I remember. I remember that I’m only pretending to be her 'love' for the stage. And that is just
not
going to be enough for me.

With great control, I pry my hand out of hers, trying to ignore the pain that rushes in afterwards.

“
I can’t do this.” I say through gritted teeth. I don't have the strength to merely pretend to be in love with this girl. “Not with
her,
” I whisper to Elizabeth, who stares at me, dumbfounded.

I crash out of the room toppling over chairs as I go. I’m being a jackass, but I’m just so mad at myself and at life for letting me find someone I can't ever hope to have.

Barging into Elizabeth
’
s office, I sink down onto the couch and wait for her to come in. I don't have to wait long, because after a few minutes I feel Naya leave, so I expect Elizabeth
to come back to her office. But after about five minutes, she hasn’t returned so I go and search for her.

I find her still in the theatre, hunched over the table, her head in her hands.

“
I’m sorry,” I say.

She looks up from the table. “What
was
that just now? How did you know where she was?”

“
I don’t know,” I confess. “I just…felt her.”

Elizabeth
pushes up from her desk. “I
knew
you were right for this part.”

“
No. No I’m not. I can't play Romeo.”

“
Etash…”

“
I’m not going to bend on this one, Elizabeth.”

“
But…”

“
No. I can’t. Not with
her
. I just can’t. I lose control when I’m that close to her, and I don’t trust myself.” I hang my head, ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

Elizabeth
touches my arm. “I had no idea you felt this way about her.”

I contemplate denying my feelings, but I'm so weak and vulnerable that I just admit the truth. “Neither did I.”

She shakes her head, but then looks back at me, worry setting in. “Does this mean I lose you as my AD too?”

I know I should say yes; make a clean break from her, but the thought of not at least being able to see her every day, feels like more than I could bear.

“
I'd still like to be your Assistant Director.” She sighs in relief. “As long as you understand,” I continue, “that I need to keep my distance from her.”

“
You can position yourself at the back of the house during rehearsals? Could that work?” I nod slowly. She gestures for me to come with her to her office, but I shake my head. My body has suddenly started to shake. Cautiously, I step back several paces. Naya is near.

And sure enough, a moment later, the door opens and she's there.

“
I forgot my bag,” Naya says, looking at both of us like she'd rather have a root canal than retrieve that damn bag.

“
I’m glad you did,” Elizabeth
says. “I need to talk to you about tomorrow’s rehearsal. Would you be free to meet at 4:00
instead of 6:00?”

“
Um, sure, I guess. I have Fridays off,” Naya replies shifting her weight back and forth on her feet.

“
Good.” Elizabeth
turns her focus to me. “Etash, can you see if Zach, Ben, and Eric can come then too? Anyone else you think we should ask?”

She’s talking about Romeo replacements and I don’t like any of the names she’s mentioned. “What about Thomas?” I suggest. Thomas is gay, which may or may not play a part in my suggestion.

“
Thomas? Really…I hadn’t thought of him, but you’re right, he might be good,” she says.

“
Good for what?” Naya asks.

Elizabeth
lets out a small laugh. “That’s right, Naya, you don’t know what we're talking about.”

She puts her arm over Naya's shoulder, like a mama hen comforting her chick.

“
Etash and I just talked.” Naya looks at me, and in her eyes I can see her confusion. “I’m afraid I was a bit selfish,” Elizabeth
explains. “I didn’t respect Etash's wishes to want to direct and sort of forced him into acting. And that was wrong of me. Therefore, Etash will no longer be playing your Romeo.”

Naya looks at me, surprisingly crestfallen.

“
It’s for the best,” I say softly, unsure if I'm trying to convince her, or myself.

She just looks at me with an expression I can't understand. Almost hurt.

“
Naya, try and understand,” I whisper. How do I tell her I simply can't
pretend
to love her?

Naya

He can't even look at me. He's embarrassed. Embarrassed for me. He stops himself before he can finish what he was going to say: 'Naya, try and understand, I just don't feel that way about you.' Suddenly, I see myself as he must see me; as a pathetic little girl who can't handle the rejection of a boy. My throat feels thick, because it's true. I can't take rejection, at least, I realize, not from him.

Before I’m humiliated even further, I nod my head slowly, and back out of the theatre. I break into a run once I hit the outside, needing to find the safety of my room before my tears have a chance to fall.

As soon as I'm inside, I close and lock the door and lean against it, as if I’m holding it closed from an unwanted intruder.

In the dimness of my room, I still feel terribly uneasy—shaky, panicky. I need my meds.
Now
. Scrambling, I find my bag and start rifling inside searching for one of the bottles, but I can't seem to find it, which only makes me panic more.

Stars begin dancing across my eyes, and my heart is already sprinting.
Shit!
It's coming too fast for them to work now. I can already tell that I won't be allowed the easy way out. I won’t be fortunate enough to pass simply out until the panic passes. No, tonight I am to be tortured.

The only thing to do now is wait for it to be over. But not here. It's not dark enough here
. Not safe enough, yet.

With trembling hands, I open my closet door and close it behind me, and the darkness welcomes me back like an old friend. As though I can't trust the door to stay closed, I hold the handle firmly shut with one hand while the other hand wraps around my chest, trying to control the shaking that's starting to consume me. The shaking will give way to the moaning, which will quickly turn into screams, so I pull down a few shirts from the clothes rack and cram them into my mouth to stifle the impending hysteria. As though waiting for me to be ready, my long caged tears begin to fall.