Dream Chaser (21 page)

We nodded.

“Kids today. Don’t even know how to drink.” He grabbed the bag and shoved the mostly empty bottles in and then rifled around and found the tumblers. Before he closed the door, he paused and looked at the large backseat then back at us, taking in our messed up hair. He shook his head. “You’re killing me.”

Tyson opened the back door of the SUV. “Get in,” he said, defeated.

“We’ve
gotta
jump the car. I can’t leave it here,” Eli said.

“You’re not driving intoxicated. That would go over real well with the school board. I can’t believe I’ve brought in the biggest thing to happen in Madison theatre history
;
and what happens? My first leading lady makes pot brownies. Then my dream team goes out drinking and almost ends up wrapped around a telephone pole. Not going to happen. Get in.”

I scrambled in first, thankful for the warm interior. Eli climbed in after me.

“Don’t even think about vomiting.” Tyson swung the door closed behind us.

“Did you notice how his hair looks like he styled it before he came? I told you, he’s gay!” I said.

“No way. I have perfect gay-
dar
. The dude is straight. He just looks gay.”

“Oh my god!” Tyson said climbing into the front seat. “That’s the burning topic on your minds? Not, gee, will my parents find out, will the school suspend me, or will my director cut me from the show!”

“You can’t cut us man, no one could learn our parts in time,” Eli said.

“You got me there, but I have the power to put you in some very ugly costumes. A certain piñata costume comes to mind.”

“Uh oh!” I said. “I’m sorry Tyson. We didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“My feelings are fine. It’s my blood pressure that you two are screwing with. Now listen up,” he said as he backed out and left our magical make out scene behind.

“First I’ll drop Willow off, then you Eli. Next I will rudely call and drag a buddy of mine out of bed so he and I can get your parent’s car and leave it in your driveway. I’ll put the keys in the mailbox. You can come up with a story for your parents about why it’s in the driveway and not the garage.” He looked at us in the rearview mirror. “Any questions?”

“Nope,” we answered.

“Good. I recommend you drink two glasses of water when you get home and take some aspirin before you pass out in bed.”

Tyson shook his head.

“And because you’ve disrupted my sleep, we will start rehearsal at ten instead of eight.” He turned to look at us. “You’re killing me, did I mention that?”

The next morning, or I guess about six hours later, I stood on stage about to pass out when Eli walked in twenty minutes late.

“Nice of you to join us Eli, what happened? Car trouble?” Tyson needled in a none-too-friendly way.

“Yeah, something like that,” Eli groaned.

“You missed warm ups, but you’re just in time for the chase scene.”

I knew right then I was
gonna
die. The chase scene is the hardest, most tiring number in the show. It’s super physical, and we’re always exhausted when we’re done with it, and that’s when I’m NOT hung over.

Eli trudged on stage to his place a few feet from me. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I moaned back. Under normal circumstances I would have felt some emotion about seeing the guy I spent last night groping and making out with, but between my head throbbing and trying to fight off the need to hurl, embarrassment didn’t exist.

“Anytime you’re ready Eli,” Tyson called loudly from down front.

Eli said his first line and the scene took off from there. Tyson never stopped us to correct anything, though I really wished he would have, so that we could have stopped to catch our breath. By the time the scene ended, Eli looked grey, and my weak body felt like a rubber chicken. I could barely breathe through the Sahara Desert of my throat.

“Willow, Eli, I’d like to see you. The rest of you get ready for the night club scene.”

Thank God we didn’t have to run the chase scene again. Once just about killed me. We dragged our pathetic carcasses down to Tyson.

“You know he made us do that number to get back at us,” Eli said, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Yeah, it worked too,” I said.

We approached Tyson who looked showered and refreshed. No sign of any effects from our middle-of-the night rendezvous. He looked at us with disappointment.

“That sucked.” He stated the obvious.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Eli grunted.

“
Here.
” He handed each of us a bottle of water. “Drink this. All of it! And have either one of you eaten anything yet today?”

I shook my head no, which made me a little dizzy.

“No,” Eli muttered.

He tossed a bag of pretzels at Eli, who missed the catch and had to pick them up off the floor.

“Aspirin?” he asked.

“Yes please,” I said. He handed me the bottle.

“Now go run lines in the back,” he said, which was code for, “get your shit together.” “You have twenty minutes and then I expect hard work and concentration for the rest of the day.”

We nodded and slunk into the back corner of the
aud
to recover and try to create a miracle.

I slid down the wall to the floor. “I want to die.”

“I’m pretty sure I already did, and today is my hell,” Eli said with his head in his hands.

“Did your parents find out? Did you get the car back in the garage?”

“I got it put away in time, but they found out anyway.”

“What happened?” I unscrewed the top of my water bottle.

“When I threw up in the bathroom, I wasn’t too good at hitting the toilet. My mom threw a fit about the grape colored stains on her white carpeting. Who the hell puts carpet in a bathroom?”

“Oh no, are they
gonna
make you pay for it?”

“You can bet I’ll pay, but not with cash. I’ll pay and pay and pay.”

“That sucks.” I took a long drink of water.

We spent the rest of the day running dance numbers and hydrating. I swear Tyson brought a case of water bottles to rehearsal. Thank god. After our lunch break my headache and gut pains lessened just enough so that I felt human again.

Finally, at four o’clock, Tyson dismissed the cast. Eli collapsed on the floor; I joined him.

“I have to give you two credit. You delivered today. It was nice to see you gut it out. Now go home and rest up,” Tyson said lounging in a cushioned auditorium seat.

Eli turned his head my direction. “You know, I think this confirms Tyson’s straight.”

“What does?” I asked. Tyson shook his head and laughed.

“A gay guy wouldn’t punish us like this. He’d bring us breakfast and have us put our feet up.”

“I gave you pretzels. That’s got to be good for something.”

“I wish I could go home and relax, but I’ve got a lesson with Gloria in an hour on the other side of town,” I groaned.

“I didn’t realize you had voice today. I would have lightened up a little.” He laughed, but did look a little sorry.

“
Now
you tell me,” I said. “I don’t like you very much right now.”

“That’s okay. I didn’t like you very much last night.” Tyson laughed. “At least Eli gets a reprieve.”

“Hardly. Hillary and the Donald are making me go to some uptight fundraiser for the Republican Party.” He lay with his arm over his face.

Tyson looked confused. “Who are Hillary and the Donald?”

“Eli’s parents. They’re clones of the real deal.”

“Really? Lucky you.” Tyson stood up, stretched his arms and yawned. “Well, I guess you better get moving. I think I’ll go home, lie on the couch, and watch some hoops.”

“I hate you,” Eli groaned.

“I know. Isn’t it great?” Tyson grinned.

And to add insult to injury, when I got to Gloria’s, she said I needed an audience. So eight of her daughter’s little friends sat on a blanket waiting for me to perform.

You can’t imagine how stupid I felt trying to belt out songs to a bunch of first graders. But the thing is, it helped. They sat there all wide eyed as if I was the next Selena Gomez or
whoever
the kids idolize these days. Obviously, they didn’t know jack about a quality voice, but their cute little applause and bouncy enthusiasm boosted my confidence. Maybe I’d conquer this singing thing yet…

The next night, I had a little free time after rehearsal. Since Mom had the whole week off, we finally got a chance to hang out and catch up. Mom loves scented candles and had them lit all over the living room and had turned off the lights. It felt like Christmas.

“So how are things going with Jilly?” Mom asked, as she worked on her latest hobby, crocheting. She started making a
dish cloth
, and when she didn’t stop, it became a baby blanket. Now she had an odd-shaped afghan.

“Bad. She still won’t talk to me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I wish she would hurry up and get over it. That girl knows how to hold a grudge.”

“Jilly is a very loyal friend. Right now, I’d guess she feels you broke that loyalty, and she’s licking her wounds. Give her time; I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“I hope so.” But I wasn’t so sure. I had a track record of hurting my friends and they didn’t just shake it off and come knocking on my door to hang out.

“You haven’t told me much about the show. Do I get to know, or is it supposed to be a surprise?” Mom asked.

“No, it’s not a secret. It’s actually really cool. It’s basically about a guy whose dreams become reality.”

“Oh, like that show about the guy with the newspaper that printed the future news?”

“No, it’s...”

“The guy in that show was so cute. Who was he?” She looked off into space trying to figure it out.

“I don’t know, Mom.”

“Darn, I wish I could remember.”

I snapped my finger to bring her back to reality. “Mom! Focus!” Twinkie heard the snap and jumped up on the couch between us. I pulled the afghan over her, and she snuggled in.

“Sorry
hon
’.”

“It’s okay. Let me tell you about the show. It’s kind of complicated. The show is about this guy, Zach.”

“Who is played by Eli,” she said.

“Right. Well, Zach has all these dreams about this girl, Lauren.”

“You,” she confirmed

“Yup. He first sees her in a dream and then meets her in person, but then he has a dream where she almost dies.”

“So you get to die?”

“Maybe. But that’s not the point. Zach…”

“Eli,” she interrupted

“Right.”

Mom’s face turned tender. “So how is Eli?”

“Mom, not now.”

“Sorry.”

“So Zach has these dreams, which are really cool, because, face it, dreams are always so bizarre. Anyway, each dream is in a different era or style, so we get do dances and wear costumes from that time.”

“But you die each time he dreams.”

“No, I never said that. But Lauren’s ex boyfriend, Victor, is a stalker. So when Zach is awake, he’s trying to save Lauren from Victor. So early on, she falls in love with Zach, hence the dance of love.”

“Sexy dress?” she asked.

“Don’t know yet, but probably. Stop interrupting.” My mom is the greatest, but I think
she’s
 
a
little A.D.D.

“Sorry.”

“No problem. Later, Zach starts to drive Lauren crazy, because he’s always trying to protect her. Eventually she gets really mad, because she thinks Zach’s paranoid about Victor. They have a huge fight. Very fun. I get to be vicious. I jump on Zach’s back and attack him.” It’s one of my favorite scenes. How often does a girl get to beat on a guy?

“I always liked Eli. How is he?” She set her crocheting down for a second. Mom loved Eli and could never understand why our friendship ended. I really didn’t want to tackle the whole Eli subject. My feelings about him were a huge jumble.

“He’s fine. Now back to our story. So we fight, and he throws me off, and it’s very dramatic.” I talked with my hands.

“You like this scene?”

“Yup, one of my favorites.”

“Is this scene why you’re covered with bruises?”

“It’s one of them.
Hip hop
is worse. We do tons of flipping around and lifts.”

“I don’t know if I like Hip Hop.”

“You’ll like this. It’s awesome.”

“Why will I like it?”

“Because Tyson Scott choreographed it and he is a genius. Wait until you meet him.”