It was Grandma Savvy.
Following closely behind them was Nurse Aimee, who had her arm looped around Easton Braun’s. He was her date.
Followed by Marla, who’d come all the way from Florida, and was accompanied by Reign.
My heart was in my throat as I recited all my lines, moved around, did all the things Blanche did. I watched from the corner of my eye as they settled in the first row. Grandma Savvy was wearing her beloved sequined gown. She waved at me with a bright smile.
She recognizes me.
West offered me a small wink with a hint of a smile, sprinkling his gesture with an approving once-over to let me know he liked the nightgown I was clad in—and was fully planning to destroy it by the end of the night. By the time I finished my scene, I was nearly bursting with happiness. I’d never felt so delighted in my life.
The rest of the show went without a hitch.
I was a phoenix, slicing the air, flying farther away from the ashes that had buried me for years.
I knew I would always remember how they’d felt against my wings.
But that I would never let them bring me down to the ground again.
And still, I rise.
West
The crowd cheered for ten minutes straight after the show ended.
Every time I thought the claps and whistles had subsided, a new wave started. On one hand, my chest was on the verge of exploding with pride, watching Grace slaying the play, leaving Aiden and Tess in a pile of dust behind her. On the other, I wanted to get the next part over with, because I’d been working toward it from the moment I left the hospital.
“That’s my granddaughter over there, Gracie-Mae!” Grams took a break from clapping to point at Grace, yelling in Aimee’s ear.
Aimee kept clapping. “I know. She was fabulous.”
“Smart as a whip and beautiful as an angel. She’s been touched by God, this one.”
Finally, the cast began to retreat backstage.
Professor McGraw got onstage with a microphone, tapping Grace’s shoulder and signaling her to stay behind.
Here goes fucking nothing, Tex. Accompanied by its friend, public humiliation!
They exchanged a few murmurs. Then McGraw addressed the crowd.
“Thank you so much for coming here and watching our production of A Streetcar Named Desire, the American classic by Tennessee Williams.” She proceeded to gloss through the credits for the director, producer, and main actors, before cutting to the chase.
“While the show is over, I’ve been asked by one of our students to pass along a message I think is important for everyone in this day and age. I’m a huge believer that the amphitheater is a thought-provoking, emotionally stimulating space, and after listening to what this student had to say, I’ve a feeling he is going to stir those exact same feelings in you. A show of courage, bravery, and heart is just as much a show as the one you’ve just witnessed. And so, without further ado, I am thrilled to call West St. Claire to the stage.”
My feet began moving as I tuned out the cheers around me. I glanced at Grace and saw the confusion in her eyes. Doubt reared its ugly head. Was I a complete moron for doing this?
She’d asked for a perfect boyfriend. For grand gestures. Things to make her feel beautiful. If this doesn’t work, I might throw in the towel.
Ten seconds later, I was standing onstage. Professor McGraw handed me the microphone and gave my shoulder a squeeze.
“Knock ’em dead, honey.”
I stood in front of Texas. She blinked back at me, waiting for an explanation for this odd scene. I turned around from her and addressed the audience instead.
“I didn’t know the play A Streetcar Named Desire before the start of this semester. Honestly? I don’t think I know much about any piece of art that doesn’t include explosions and Megan Fox in it.”
I received some snickers and howls from men in the audience. Not exactly a blue-blooded crowd. That worked in my favor.
“But then Grace Shaw, this girl over here, was working as a stage assistant for the play, and I was interested in her, and she was interested in it, so I decided to read it. I wanted to know what enchanted her about A Streetcar Named Desire. And I get it. I truly do. What Tennessee Williams was trying to say here. The burning desire to call some place—any place—home. I’m no literary expert, but what I liked about this is the notion that we all at times ride on a road so dark, sometimes we don’t even realize when our eyes are closed. Not until a fissure of light cracks through.”
I took a deep breath, getting to the punch line.
“I’ve been spending the last few years running away from home in the dark. Not literally—my ass was right here, in Sheridan. But I didn’t want to belong to a place I ruined because of one stupid mistake. Then I met Grace Shaw. She turned my life upside down. Whoever told you that’s a nice thing never had anyone change their lives. That shit was brutal.” I shook my head.