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on my shoulder and asked,  Get Hamlet for me before you shower?
I smiled, and nodded.
Bliss was so determined to make Hamlet like her that she played with the cat for at
least half an hour before bed every night. Hamlet would stick around for as long as Bliss
waved that feathered toy in the air, but the minute Bliss tried to touch her, she was gone.
I found Hamlet in the kitchen, hiding underneath the kitchen table. I reached a hand
down, and she butted her head against my ingers, purring. I picked her up at the same time
that Bliss asked,  Babe, have you seen the cat toy?
I walked into the room, and deposited Hamlet on the bed. She hunkered down and
eyed Bliss with distrust.
 Where did you see it last? I asked her.
 I thought I d left it on the dresser, but I can t find it. 
I petted Hamlet once to keep her calm, then placed a quick kiss on Bliss s cheek.
 I don t know, honey. Are you sure you didn t leave it somewhere else?
She sighed, and started looking in other spots around the room. I turned and hid my
smile as I left. I nipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on. I waited a few seconds,
went back in the hallway.
 Bliss? I called.
 Yeah?
 Check the drawers of the nightstand! She was playing with it in the middle of the
night, and I think I remember taking it away and sticking it in there.
 Okay!
Through the open door, I watched her circle around the edge of the bed. I walked in
place for a few seconds, letting my feet drop a little heavier than necessary, then opened and
closed the door like I d gone back inside the bathroom. Then I hid in the space between the
back of the bedroom door and the wall where I could just see through the crack between the
hinges. She pulled open the top drawer, and my heartbeat was like a bass drum. I don t know
when it had started beating so hard, but now it was all that I could hear.
It wasn t like I was asking her to marry me now. I just knew Bliss, and knew she tended
to panic. I was giving her a very big, very obvious hint so that she d have time to adjust before
I actually asked her. Then in a few months, when I thought she d gotten used to the idea, I d
ask her for real.
That was the plan anyway. It was supposed to be simple, but this felt& complicated.
Suddenly, I thought of all the thousands of ways this could go wrong. What if she freaked out?
What if she ran like she did our irst night together? If she ran, would she go back to Texas? Or
would she go to Cade who lived in North Philly? He d let her stay until she igured things out,
and then what if something developed between them?
What if she just lat out told me no? Everything was good right now. Perfect, actually.
What if I was ruining it by pulling this stunt?
I was so caught up in my doomsday predictions that I didn t even see the moment that
she found the box. I heard her open it though, and I heard her exhale and say,  Oh my God.
Where before my mouth had been dry, now I couldn t swallow fast enough. My hands
were shaking against the door. She was just standing there with her back to me. I couldn t see
her face. All I could see was her tense, straight spine. She swayed slightly.
What if she passed out? What if I d scared her so much that she actually lost
consciousness? I started to think of ways to explain it away.
I was keeping it for a friend?
It was a prop for a show?
It was& It was& shit, I didn t know.
I could just apologize. Tell her I knew it was too fast.
I waited for her to do something scream, run, cry, faint. Anything would be better
than her stillness. I should have just been honest with her. I wasn t good at things like this. I
said what I was thinking no plans, no manipulation.
Finally, when I thought my body would crumble under the stress alone, she turned. She
faced the bed, and I only got her pro ile, but she was biting her lip. What did that mean? Was
she just thinking? Thinking of a way to get out of it?
Then, slowly, like the sunrise peeking over the horizon, she smiled.
She snapped the box closed.
She didn t scream. She didn t run. She didn t faint.
There might have been a little crying.
But mostly& she danced.
She swayed and jumped and smiled the same way she had when the cast list was
posted for Phaedra. She lost herself the same way she did after opening night, right before we
made love for the first time.
Maybe I didn t have to wait a few months after all.
She said she wanted my best line tomorrow after the show, and now I knew what it
was going to be.
Acknowledgements
Writing this book was nothing short of a whirlwind. I got the idea, and it was different
than anything else I d written before. My sister encouraged me to write it, and then in only a
matter of weeks, I had a irst draft. Deciding to self-publish was a similarly quick and chaotic
affair. Through it all, I have quite a few people to thank.
First, I have to thank my Mother, who instilled in me a love of books. Thank you for being
my teacher and my friend. Thank you for proof-reading pretty much everything I write. Thank
you for always believing that I was gifted enough to make my dreams come true. To my Dad, I
know my choices stress you out. We ve argued about a lot of them, but you are always there
when I need you. This was no different, so thank you! To my sisters, thank you for loving
books with me, for listening to me blather on about my ideas, for being enthusiastic about my
work when I am unsure, and for putting up with the windmill. I love you.
Thank you to Lindsay and Michelle, my irst readers. I don t think I would have ever
inished this book if you two hadn t loved it as much as you did. Thanks to Ana for being my
cheerleader. You know I ll always return the favor. And thank you to Heather for answering my
plethora of self-pub questions.
And last, but certainly not least, thank you for reading! Thank you to the bloggers who
helped spread the word, the girls at YA Sisterhood especially. Thank you, thank you, a
thousand times thank you!
About the Author
Cora Carmack is a twenty-something writer who likes to write about twenty-something
characters. She s done a multitude of things in her life-- boring jobs (like working at Target),
Fun jobs (like working in a theatre), stressful jobs (like teaching), and dream jobs (like
writing). She loves theatre, travel, and anything that makes her laugh. She enjoys placing her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]