Broken Juliet

Night of the Senior Showcase

 

The after-party is manic. Everyone is decompressing so hard, all sense of being civilized has flown out the window. The air heaves with primal energy. People throw back alcohol amid thick clouds of marijuana smoke, and I see things being done in public that should be kept private.

 

Ethan’s on the other side of the room talking to Avery and Lucas but glancing at me intermittently. It’s obvious he’s angry about tonight. No problem. So am I.

 

“Trouble in paradise?” Ruby asks as she drapes her arm around my shoulders.

 

I roll my eyes. “Men. Why are they so stupid?”

 

“To make us look smart? I take it Holt didn’t dig your little scene with Connor.”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“Well, to be fair, it was pretty steamy. And let’s be honest, Connor is all kinds of easy on the eyes. If I were Holt, I’d be pretty pissed, too.”

 

“Ruby—”

 

“Just saying.”

 

I grab her beer and take a swig. “I’m just glad it’s done. Maybe now he can get over it. I’m so tired of having to defend myself over nothing.”

 

“I hear you. There’s nothing more draining than having to constantly deflect suspicion. I had an ex-boyfriend who accused me of cheating every time he saw me so much as talk to another guy.”

 

“Really? How did you deal with him?”

 

“I cut him some slack. After all, I was fucking several other dudes.”

 

I hand her back her beer. “You’re not helping.”

 

“Oh, honey, lighten up. Go get your man, take him back to our place, and screw his brains out. In the morning he won’t even remember why he was so pissed.”

 

“You think?”

 

“Well, it is Holt. He has a talent for holding on to things. Maybe throw in a morning blow job for good measure.”

 

I give her a hug. “I love you dearly, but you’re useless at advice.”

 

“Yeah, I know. See you tomorrow?”

 

“Yep. I’ll be the one blowing my boyfriend.”

 

“In your bedroom with the door shut, right?”

 

“If you’re lucky.”

 

I take a breath and walk over to Ethan. When I get there, Jack puts his arm around me, clearly inebriated.

 

“Ah, sweet Cassie Taylor. You were so good tonight. So good.”

 

“Thanks, Jack. You too.”

 

“I especially enjoyed getting a peek of side-boob during your scene with Connor. That was hot. Holt, your girlfriend has a spectacular rack. I hope you appreciate that.”

 

Ethan shakes his head. “Yeah, and now everyone’s seem it. I’m thrilled. Really.”

 

Right. That’s it.

 

I grab the front of his shirt and pull.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Where are you guys going?” Jack whines.

 

“I’m taking my boyfriend home to screw his brains out,” I announce. “Maybe then he’ll stop being such an idiot.”

 

There’s a chorus of catcalls as I drag Ethan out of the party, but I don’t care.

 

I take his keys from him and push him toward the passenger door. I’ve barely had anything to drink but judging by the way he wobbles as he gets into the car, he’s well over the limit.

 

As I pull away from the curb, he mumbles something about being careful with his car. I ignore it.

 

He turns on the stereo and AC/DC blares from the speakers.

 

I turn it off and slap his hand when he tries to turn it on again.

 

He slumps down into his seat and looks out the window.

 

“Did you mean what you just said?” he asks.

 

“Yes. I am indeed going to screw your brains out.”

 

“No,” he says, “I meant about me being an idiot.”

 

“Yes. I can see how pissed you are over the scene with Connor, and it’s dumb. We did what the play called for. You know that’s how it works. I feel like you’re blaming me.”

 

“I’m not, it’s just … I keep seeing him touching you. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

 

“That’s why I didn’t want you to see it. Ethan, we can’t keep doing this dance. You have to try to find a way to get past this.”

 

He’s quiet for a few seconds, then says, “I’ve been reading self-help books.”

 

“What?”

 

“I have a whole stack of them. I’ve been meditating and trying to change how I react to stuff, but it’s really fucking hard.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“Like I want you to know how desperate I am.”

 

“At least you’re trying.”

 

“Yeah, and failing,” he says. “It’s frustrating as hell, because I want to change so badly, then something like tonight happens, and I’m back to where I started.”

 

I touch his face. His air of hopelessness is scaring me. “Please … keep trying, okay? Don’t give up.”

 

He nods, but I wonder if he’s already too far gone.

 

We pull up in front of my apartment and head inside. When I close the door, he pushes me up against it and kisses me. There’s a desperation in him that I want to extinguish, but I don’t know how. It mirrors my own.

 

I don’t think either one of us is a bad person. Why can’t we just get to be happy together?

 

When we make love, it’s rough. Almost angry. And when he falls asleep, I lie there and try to imagine being the one to leave this time. Could I do it? Get out before he destroys me?

 

It’s a tempting thought.

 

 

 

Present Day

 

New York City, New York

 

Graumann Theater