Playing with Fire

“I just want you to get better,” I gritted out. I was getting tired of this tango.

“Yeah, by diagnosing me with somethin’ I don’t have and putting me on a whole lotta drugs. Not everybody wants to be sedated. Just because you like drugs, doesn’t mean they’re for me.”

“Grams.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’s Grace.”

She pushed me. Hard. I stumbled across the kitchen, my back hitting the wall. A picture of my mother and me—the only one we had in this house of both of us—fell to the floor, the glass breaking.

It stung more than it hurt.

The humiliation.

The anger.

My helplessness in this situation.

I put my broken flame ring to my lips and whispered my wishes as Marla shot up from her seat, advancing toward my grandmother.

“Savannah!” The sharpness in her tone made the tiny hair on my arms stand on end. “Do you not recognize your granddaughter?”

Grams snapped her head toward Marla, her scowl melting into a sweet smile.

“What? Don’t be silly. I know exactly who she is.”

“You said Courtney,” Marla countered.

“Quiet!” Grams raised her voice. “Stop challengin’ my every step, both of you.”

Marla walked over to me. “Go to school, honey pie. I’ll be putting in some extra hours today. I promised your grandma I’d help rearrange her closet. All right?”

I stared at Grams but nodded.

I grabbed my backpack, keys, and wallet and dashed out. I waited until I was in my car before I let the first tear fall.

I thought about A Streetcar Named Desire.

Of Blanche’s biting loneliness that seeped so deep she didn’t even know what she was lonely for anymore. Blanche—like Grams—sat at home all day, her demons often her only companion.

I thought about the cruelty in giving someone freedom they didn’t know what to do with.

Grandma Savvy always used to say, if you’re not scared, you’re not brave.

Right now, I was one out of the two, but for her, I needed to be both.

I sat at the back row of the theater, watching as Tess and Lauren butchered the roles of Stella and Blanche, respectively, during rehearsal.

Tess wasn’t bad, but she kept overacting to compensate for her loss to Lauren for Blanche’s role.

She also complained about it, often.

“Blanche has so much more meat! Stella is meek and timid.”

“Grow up, Tess. Learn how to be graceful in defeat.” Lauren snorted.

“I never lose,” Tess replied, her tone taking an edge I’d never heard before.

Lauren tossed her hair and smiled at her serenely. “That so? Then how come you’re not on West. St. Claire’s arm right about now?”

Aiden, who played Stanley, wasn’t exceptionally bad either, but he needed to tone down his frowning and glaring. He looked so constipated I worried people would throw Pepto-Bismol onstage instead of flowers at the end of the show.

About halfway through rehearsal, someone slid into the seat next to me. Peculiar, seeing as all the other seats were empty. Even though I didn’t turn to look at him, I knew exactly who it was. It frightened me that I recognized him so quickly.

His scent of winter, candy apple, and alpha male. Wild and unique.

I balanced my feet on the back of the seat in front of me, trying to refocus on the actors onstage. I was still mad at West. Mainly because he’d screwed someone else last Friday while mumbling my nickname. But the official reason was him embarrassing me to no end by making a big stink out of how Reign had treated me. I’d sailed through college ignoring the odd taunt. Reign De La Salle was one of many idiots I’d learned to overlook. West had redirected the limelight to my face again, and now everybody was talking about me—my story, my face, my hopeless future.

It was like high school all over again.

West draped his muscular arm over my headrest. His body language was indifferent, dripping confidence; he took something out of his front pocket—a small planner—and dropped it in my lap.

“Circle the date.”

I ignored him, still glaring at the stage.

“When you’re letting me out of the doghouse,” he explained.

I pressed my lips together, resisting a faint smile, pouring metaphorical lava over the butterflies swirling in my stomach, taking flight upwards to my chest.

They were exactly the reason keeping my distance from him was a good idea.

The man had heartbreak written all over him.

“No can do. This planner doesn’t go beyond mid-next year,” I drawled, my eyes still trained on the stage. I didn’t need to look to know planners didn’t go beyond twelve months. Tess threw her head back during a scene, trying to steal Lauren’s limelight.

The scene was cut due to the fact Lauren stumbled all over her lines.

“Dang it! She threw me off focus.” Lauren stomped, choking the manuscript in her hand.

Tess parked her fists on her waist, puffing her cheeks.

“Nothing should throw you off when you’re in the zone. I’m a method actor, Lauren. Untouchable once I get into character. I’ve been telling Professor McGraw for weeks that I should be Blanche. I was born for the role.”