Grumpy Puck

26. Calliope

Chapter 26

Calliope

O ver the next month—not a couple of weeks, as Max had hoped—my rats and I are so busy preparing for our first real show I barely have time to mope. That is, I only cry for an hour or two daily, check my phone for some communication from Michael hourly, and see mental montages of us kissing under the most ridiculous of pretexts, like when I spot two doves sitting close together on a tree branch. Or when I see any kind of birds doing anything at all, even pooping on cars.

By the time my first show is about to open, I feel barely any stage fright, which is great. The rats kill it during the performance, especially with the unicycle sequence. After the show is over, the crowd actually rises to their feet to give us a standing ovation.

As I take my bow, I want to kick myself for not fully enjoying this pinnacle moment in my life. More than anything, I want Michael to be in that crowd. I want him to hug me afterward. I want him to?—

Realizing I’ve stayed bowed past the curtain falling, I unbend, give my little guys amazing treats, and then go mingle with my family, who flew in for the show and sat in the front row.

“So,” Seraphina says when we’re alone together. “How bad was the stage fright?”

“Not bad at all,” I tell her. “Go ahead and say ‘told you so.’”

“Told you so.” She grins maniacally, but then her expression turns serious. “Have you heard from him?”

I don’t need her to explain who the “him” is in this scenario.

“No. And I didn’t expect to.” I hoped. And prayed, but?—

“Have you called him?” she asks.

I frown. “Why would I?”

“Um, because you’re the one who left?”

My chest tightens. “I did what I had to do.”

“Did you? Why? Did you even consider the possibility of a long-distance relationship?”

The truth is, I didn’t. At least not at the moment when Michael asked me to stay. Just minutes earlier, I was so sure he’d dumped me for the usual reasons that I couldn’t fully process the fact that he hadn’t. It’s like my mental gears got stuck, and the only thing I could think about was that every other boyfriend had dumped me.

“You should call him,” Seraphina states when I remain silent.

I swallow. “I don’t think I could stand it if he doesn’t pick up.” Which he won’t.

She frowns. “Why would he not pick up?”

“Why did he not call me ?”

“Because you are the one who left,” she repeats.

Damn her and her stupid good points. I know she’s right. Michael asked me to stay. He said he liked my family, but I didn’t really believe him.

Why didn’t I?

Was it because every other boyfriend of mine abandoned me as soon as they met my weird family?

Or… maybe it’s never been my family that they’ve found weird.

Maybe what really scared me was the idea that the weirdness they ran from was me.

“Seraphina…” My voice catches. “I think I screwed up. Like you said, he liked our family, and he proved that by asking me to move in with him. By asking me to stay. And what did I do? I left. I didn’t even try to?—”

She puts a hand on my shoulder. “Do you wish you’d stayed?”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yes. No. Maybe. You saw the show. I had to come here. But I wish we hadn’t fought before I left. I wish we’d decided to make it work. I mean, I could have flown to Florida to see him every so often, and he could have flown to New York to see me.”

In that moment, my brother joins us, so we can’t keep talking about this.

Yet that conversation festers in my mind all evening and well into the night. The next morning, I wake up tired and heartsick but with an epiphany.

I can’t go on like this anymore.

I have to try to fix things with Michael, and if he tells me to go fuck myself, that is a price I’ll have to pay—but at least I will know I tried.