For Her (The Girl I Loved Duet 1)

Then we’re both in the car, and I was in too much pain to notice last time, but the way his car purrs is a thing of beauty. It drives incredibly smoothly, and I almost wish I’d decided to take him on a drive up the PCH instead of where I’m actually taking him. A place he’s probably been a hundred times, but it’s still one of my favorite places in Los Angeles.

Mulholland Drive.

It’s just as pretty as in the movies, with the city laid out at your feet. The sun is sinking below the horizon as we break free of traffic and I make my way to my favorite over look, even better as the setting sun turns the city to molten glass.

“This is a classic,” Peter says as he gets out of the car. “But I’ve never been right here.”

“I like this spot,” I say. “It’s just hidden enough that it doesn’t get a lot of tourists, so most of the time I can just be by myself or with a couple other people. It’s nice.”

“Thanks for the tip,” he smiles.

“Can I use your car?” He knows what I’m talking about.

“Sure.”

I climb up onto the hood, pulling my knees to my chest and letting my skirt poof and pool around me. We got here at the perfect time to see that last blaze of light as the sun disappears, followed by the rapid draining of any light and color left in the sky.

“I dreamed of this view,” I say. “For years. It took me a while to get here though. Sometimes I thought that I wasn’t going to make it. But I did.”

There’s a silence from Peter, and I can feel him watching me. Everything between us is hanging in the air, unsaid. Finally he speaks. “I’m sorry.”

I’m not sure I’m ready for this, but I have to be. “Tell me why.”

“Why?”

I swallow. “Why you did it, Peter. Why you ruined everything. Ruined us.”

18

Amber

12th Grade

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. That word is circling in my head in time with my heartbeat. My show is tomorrow. Everything that I’ve been working for, and what I will hope will be the key to my future, is tomorrow.

The lights flash on, and I start the third scene. I know everything by heart now. This is mostly just a memory exercise tonight. I’m saving everything for my full performance tomorrow.

The past few months have been an absolute whirlwind, or at least it feels that way. Every day I’ve done something to shape this show. I did everything, though Peter has been by my side every step of the way, doing anything I needed, and supporting me. Sometimes supporting me meant bringing me coffee. Sometimes it meant distracting me with kisses and sex until I calmed down about whatever problem felt insurmountable in that moment.

The rest of my rehearsal goes so quickly that I almost don’t remember it. It happens sometimes with shows that I know really well. I slip into the character so deeply that I run on autopilot. My brain was making lists, instead of paying attention. I need to make sure someone picks up the programs tomorrow morning. Send someone to get extra cups and ice for the reception after the show.

I’m walking off the stage when it happens. Suddenly I can hear my heart pounding in my ears and everything feels weak. Shit. This can’t happen now.

This has been happening more often, but it’s been in places that weren’t noticeable. While I was sitting in class, getting ready for bed, at the breakfast table. I can’t afford to have it happen while I’m on stage.

I don’t catch myself soon enough, and my knees buckle just before I make it off the stage. I manage to grab the wall so I don’t fall all the way, but it’s enough.

“Amber!” Peter’s voice calls from the audience. I haul myself to standing but I know that I’m not steady, and I hear his footsteps pounding for a second before he reaches me.

His arms are around my waist, and I’m glad for the support, but I’m furious at my body. Just get through tomorrow and we can sleep for a week. It will be fine, just cut this shit out for another day.

“What’s going on?” he asks, concern thick in his voice.

I shake my head. “Nothing. I just forgot to eat lunch and the lights are hot.”

He leads me down into the auditorium and puts me in a seat. “We ate lunch together, Amber. We had pizza and you complained about having too many pieces.”

“Right.” Shit. I’ve never been a good liar, but that’s bad even for me.

He stares at me, waiting for me to speak, but finally does when he realizes that I’m not going to say anything. “It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine.”