Suspension of Disbelief
“Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend which is the mightier..”
From backstage I could hear the actors’ voices, muffled only slightly by the curtain and the air conditioning. Although the theatre was rather nicely kept up, the backstage was a jumbled mess. A handful of chairs and black boxes were scattered around for actors to sit on while they awaited their entrances. I was not even a part of this scene, but I had already found that, with Dr. Ansary’s slapdash approach to scheduling, it was just easier to wait my turn backstage – well out of the reach of her temper and flying clipboards.
Through the curtains and partially assembled flats I could spy Cecily and David and tried to think of them only as Gertrude and Claudius. I had met so many new people in the past three weeks that it was much, much easier to remember my castmates as their characters and worry about their real names later. Except for the those I had major scenes with or shared classes with, I didn’t know any of their real names and for now that seemed to be working out just fine.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, careful to cover the brightness of the screen just in case it filtered through onto the stage. Pealing my hand back slightly and tilting the screen toward my face, I read the alert. One new text message, from Zac. I pushed the button that would allow me to read it.
I laughed and slid down behind the stack of black boxes to be sure that no one saw my phone; we weren’t supposed to use them during rehearsals, but that rarely stopped most people. Still, I was trying to be on my best behavior. Older students might get away with it, but I didn’t want to take too many chances.
The back door, leading from the green room, swung open and in the dim light I saw Donovan enter the backstage area. He pulled out his script and began pacing back and forth, his full lips moving slightly as he read through his script.
I smiled to myself, reading Zac’s text. He was a total nerd. I didn’t know anyone outside of the theatre who knew so much about plays. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Donovan walking toward me and I quickly finished typing my reply.
Hurriedly I flipped the phone shut before Donovan could see the message. He slid onto the floor next to me with such a smooth gracefulness. I wondered if he would notice all the sawdust he had sat in, but I didn’t say anything. He glanced down at the phone in my hand and raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.
“Hey, how are you doing learning those lines?” I whispered, smiling up at him and sliding the phone back into my pocket.
He looked down at his script, “It’s… it’s coming. I don’t know why I’m having so much trouble with this play.”
“Well it is a pretty big part and Shakespeare isn’t easy,” I replied, “But you’re doing a really good job. Weird as it sounds, I totally believe your Hamlet.”
Donovan smiled and wrapped his arm around me. “Well didn’t anyone tell you? That’s because I’m crazy.”
I knew what was coming next. He pushed a strand of my hair back and leaned in close. I could see, even in the dim light of backstage, how bright blue his eyes were. I hated blue eyes. When I closed my own eyes, he made his move. I felt Donovan’s lips land on mine, soft but insistent. Much as I hadn’t planned for this and wasn’t sure if I wanted it, I felt myself relaxing against him. I mimicked his moves as best I could. Donovan caressed the side of my face gently and slid his tongue between my lips. My back was pressed against one of the black boxes and it was starting to hurt.
From my back pocket came the familiar buzz of my cell phone and I jumped involuntarily, bumping my elbow against the box. The motion brought me closer to Donovan and for a moment he continued our kiss. I placed a hand on his chest and gently nudged him away.
“Sorry, my cell phone went off,” I replied, scooting back away from him. I flipped the phone open, not even feeling the need to check who the text was from.
I felt my face go red and I was relieved that the dim backstage light might hide that from Donovan. Holding my phone up where he could not look over and read it, I quickly typed a response.
“Who are you texting?” Donovan asked, leaning against my shoulder.
I held the phone closed in my hand, not wanting to see Zac’s response right away. “Just a friend.”
As if to punctuate my sentence, and highlight my reluctance to tell him the truth, the screen lit up and revealed the words “1 Text Message: Zac – Mobile.” Donovan scooted away from me, and I suspected it was as much to give me privacy as it was to pout.
If Donovan hadn’t seen the blush creeping across my cheeks yet, I don’t know how. My entire face felt like it might catch fire any second and the feeling was spreading throughout my limbs. I made the terrible mistake of looking over at him and saw that his eyes were trained on me, probably had been the entire time.
“He was just wondering what I was doing after rehearsal,” I said, then bit my lip. That sounded far too much like a justification and I hated it.
Donovan shrugged, picking up his script. “So you guys are dating, then?”
I shook my head vigorously – probably too much so – and replied, “No, no. We’re just friends. He has a bunch of classes with my roommate so we started hanging out.”
“Right,” Donovan said, drawing the word out so that it was almost painful to hear. “I just see you two together all the time, that’s all. Looks like you’re dating, especially now.”
I cringed at his accusation. Carefully, I scooted across the floor toward him, feeling the sawdust biting at my palms. “If I were dating him, I wouldn’t have been back here doing that with you, would I? I mean, maybe some girls would but I’m not like that. Alright?”
Donovan looked down at his hands and I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he considered what I had said. It wasn’t a lie. Not a word of it. Finally he looked up. “Alright. If you say so.”
Now it was my turn to be filled with disbelief. His reply just didn’t sound genuine. And why would it? He had a point. Zac and I were beginning to spend a lot of time together. He came to our room most nights to study, either with Justine or with me, as I shared an English class with him as well. Most nights, though, the studying was abandoned in favor of television shows or video games. And we ate lunch together as often as possible. But he was just a friend, of that I was absolutely certain. Although, truth be told, neither he or Donovan gave me the butterflies that I expected a potential love interest to. At least, Donovan hadn’t. Until that kiss. Now I was just a jumble of confused and mixed up nerves and I couldn’t sort out what it all meant. So why did I expect Donovan to believe anything I said, when I didn’t even know the truth myself?
From the other side of the curtains, I heard Dr. Ansary call out act and scene numbers and I knew I was finally required for this one. I looked over at Donovan but he didn’t speak. With his head buried in the script, he stood and walked toward the stage, calling out an acknowledgement to Dr. Ansary. When he was out of sight, I pulled out my phone and fired off a quick text to Zac.
The rest of the rehearsal was awkward. I was thankful that, even though we worked and reworked the same scene for the last forty-five minutes, it was one that did not require Donovan and I to speak much, at least not each other. When we did, I could hear the strain. I hoped that no one else could tell just how much I was shaken by the entire thing. If they did, I wouldn’t have known quite how to explain it.
Thankfully, Dr. Ansary opted to leave the bulk of her notes for the following night’s rehearsal and let us go without much comment or complaint. I gathered my things from backstage and took the exit through the green room that lead back through the rest of the Performing Arts building rather than walk back onto the stage and face Donovan again. Or anyone else in the cast for that matter. Whitley was beginning to develop a Justine-like sense for when I was upset and I wanted nothing to do with her for the moment. Although, given how enamored she had become with Taylor, I was doubtful that even she would be capable of noticing anything other than the color of his eyes or how nice his ass looked in those jeans.
The walk back to my dorm seemed to take an eternity. It was already mid-September and I didn’t know how the time had managed to pass so quickly. Just as I entered the dorm and headed for the elevator, I felt my phone buzzing again. I had forgotten to turn the ringer back on before leaving the theatre. At first I assumed it was another text from Zac, but as I dug through my purse to locate it, I realized that the buzzing had continued. That meant one thing – a phone call.
Mom – Mobile.
I froze in place, which was not a particularly smart thing to do in the middle of a busy dormitory hallway. I hadn’t spoken to my mother since the movie night almost a week previously. For some people that might have been eternity, but I was actually shocked to hear from her again so soon. My hesitance worked against me and the phone stopped ringing.
I stabbed the elevator button until the door opened. I stepped inside and walked directly to the far wall, which I proceeded to bang my head against. In my hand, my cell phone buzzed twice to inform me of a new voicemail.
The elevator bell dinged in my ear and I cringed at the sound. My phone began to buzz again and I realized I had no choice. Two things to do. One, listen to the voicemail. Two, get out of the damn elevator.
Stepping out onto my floor, I flipped the phone open and stabbed the green button. After the annoying robotic voice introduction, I hear my mom’s voice.
“Hey Vicky, honey. Just calling to check in on you again. I just wanted to be sure you were doing okay. I hope you’re not ignoring me. So please please please call me back as soon you get this, honey.”
I wanted to throw the phone again, but I knew it couldn’t handle much more abuse. It had been a graduation present from my father and I didn’t relish having to explain to him why it was in pieces. I unlocked the door to my room and stepped inside. For a moment I was surprised to see that Justine wasn’t there. Then I remembered something about a late night study group for her biology class. I flopped down on the bed and contemplated watching television. But I knew I really should call my mother back. Leaving her hanging would do no good at all and I would only have to listen to the repercussions of that when I finally did choose to talk to her.
Reluctantly, I pulled the phone back out and pressed a few buttons to dial her number back. By the fifth ring I was mentally drafting a voicemail message that would convey just how little I wanted to speak to her. To my surprise, instead of the robotic voice, I heard the click signifying that she had answered.
“Vicky?”
I hated that nickname. But she still used it, probably for that very reason.
“Yes, mother?”
Her sigh was barely audible. “How is school, honey?”
“It’s fine, mom. Classes are tedious and theatre is the same soul-sucking beast it was in high school. Nothing I’m not used to,” I replied.
“Well that’s good, I guess,” she replied. The conversation was just so casual. Like nothing was wrong. It made me even angrier that she would try to sound so… so… normal.
We both sat in silence for a moment. Finally, I decided to break the silence. “Aunt Patty said you were thinking about coming down here to visit soon?”
“We were thinking about this weekend.”
Not quite realizing the emphasis in her voice of verb tense, I forged on. “And you thought you’d convey your plans through her? What if I already had plans here, mom?”
“Well it doesn’t matter now, anyway,” she replied, and I could hear the edge on her voice. It sounded like the pointed end of a shard of glass. Not noticeable at first, but enough to hurt if you prodded at it anyway.
And I couldn’t resist the urge to prod.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She wouldn’t appreciate the language, I knew. But I figured that was the least of my concern.
“Vicky honey… you know how busy we are. Jeff just couldn’t take the weekend off,” she replied.
I rolled my eyes, even knowing that she wouldn’t see it. “Really, mom. You have a car. And I promise that all the lights in Virginia won’t go off just because Jeff isn’t sitting at his desk for one day.”
“It’s not that simple, honey.” This one prompted another eye roll. Did she think I didn’t notice all the gratuitous use of pet names? Did she think it was endearing? It wasn’t.
“Actually, it is. So what do you seem to think the problem is?”
“I’ve already told you that, Vicky. You know Jeff wants to meet you. I’m not coming down by myself, I’m going to wait until he can take off work. It wouldn’t be fair to come visit you while he’s stuck at the power plant.”
For a moment, I couldn’t even think of anything to say. I couldn’t believe she had really said it. Maybe she didn’t realize the implications, but I found that hard to believe.
“Fine. Call me again when Jeff isn’t busy. In fact, don’t bother me again until you can fit it in his schedule.” My words were full of more venom than I thought possible. I slammed the phone shut before she had a chance to reply. I knew my message had come across loud and clear and there was absolutely no point in debating the issue. She was entirely too absorbed in herself and her brand new life with Jeff to even consider what she was doing to me.
I didn’t realize I was crying until I heard the knock at my door and had to choke back a small sob before I called out, “Come in, it’s open!”
I rolled over on my bed, shoving my face deep into the pillow. I didn’t even look up to see who had come in and so I jumped at the feeling of a hand pressed against my back.
“Toria? What’s wrong?” Zac’s voice. Zac’s soft, soothing voice.
I choked back another small sob but made no effort to extricate my face from the pillow. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
The bed heaved and pitched and I wasn’t certain what Zac was doing at first. I felt his knee brush against my back and it dawned on me. A weight landed softly next to me and I rolled over, lifting my head off the pillow. Zac had somehow managed to weasel his way across me to lay between my body and the wall.
“I knew you were a secret ninja assassin. No normal person could have pulled that move off,” I replied, sniffling and trying to smile.
He pushed back a strand of my hair and frowned. “You’re crying. Why are you crying?”
“It’s just… nothing. Nothing new, anyway,” I said, pushing his hand away.
Undaunted, he put his hand right back where it hand been and wiped away a tear that threatened to run across my nose. “Is it your mom again?”
I nodded.
“Aww, sweetie,” Zac said and ran his hand down my arm softly, tickling the hairs. “What did she say this time?”
“She keeps putting herself and Jeff before me. I don’t understand it. She’s never been like this before, but ever since the divorce, she’s a completely different person. Now she said she was gonna come visit but Jeff can’t take off work so of course she has to stay there with him,” I blurted out, my voice cracking a little at the end.
Zac slipped his arm around me, holding gently onto the small of my back. “Can I ask… and it’s totally okay if you don’t wanna talk about it, but was the divorce a surprise? I mean, did you see it coming?”
I shook my head slightly, but it morphed into a nod. “I don’t know. I guess. My dad has always been kinda distant, but that’s just who he is. I knew they didn’t always get along but they didn’t really fight either. And then one day it was just over. It fell apart really slowly and silently, I guess.”
Zac nodded and pulled me closer. I could feel more tears welling up in my eyes but I tried not to let them escape. Instead, I pressed my face into Zac’s shirt, hoping to muffle the tears until they would stop.
“You can cry, you know. It won’t make things worse. It might even help,” Zac said softly, his hand sliding up my back to cradle my head.
I sniffled and pulled back to look up at him. “I just want her to act like a mother again. Maybe she was tired of 18 years of it, I don’t know. But I want her back.”
“I know, baby. But she’ll come back. She knows she’s still your mom and she’ll realize it. I promise,” Zac replied.
“You don’t know that,” I said.
He frowned. “No, you’re right. I don’t. But I do one know thing.”
“What’s that?”
Zac pulled me closer to him, wrapping both his arms around me. I curled into his grasp easily. “I’m not leaving until you feel better.”
“I feel better already,” I said, smiling up at him. “But I think I’d like to sleep, just like this.”
Zac smiled and reached down to pull my covers up over us. “Hope you don’t mind sleeping in pants and all.”
I shook my head. “Don’t care. Long as you’re here, I’m happy.”
“Great,” Zac said, and I felt him place a small kiss against my hair.
It was then that I realized I wasn’t crying anymore.