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her tongue demanding, her fingers pushing into all the openings of my clothes. I pushed her away, suddenly angry.
"Masha, do you know what tomorrow is?" I demanded.
"Tuesday?" she said lamely.
"Well, yes, but its also the day Ive gotta rehearse that goddamn scene," I shouted. "And I have to work on it. Do you understand?"
"Oh, no," she said quietly, "I would have no idea about that. Since I clearly have never worked on a scene before."
There was a dangerous silence as we glared at each other.
"Look," she said, "Im not an idiot. What do think Im doing down here at 11:00 on a Monday night? I came down here hoping to find you so I could help you. I wouldve offered before, but I kept waiting for you to ask."
"Well, then why did you get all distracting just now? If you wanted to help me, I mean. Because that doesnt help." I pouted at the floor.
"I keep telling you thats the only way I know how to be with you," she said. "I know its absurd. At this point we should be more than that to each other. And we are—I mean, you are to me. But . . ." she stopped.
I sighed impatiently.
"But I want you so much that its hard." She came over and handed me the script. I looked at it blankly.
"So," she started, "what is this scene about?"
We worked late into the night, my anger turning to shame as I saw her earnestly trying to help me. I had forgotten, in my lust, about her talent and experience. I had forgotten about the professors who raved over her, the freshman girls who wanted to be her. Id forgotten shed studied long and hard, in Russia and in London and summers in Minneapolis. Certainly she was no slouch. And under her tutelage, neither was I.
By morning I could cry on cue, just thinking about the scene. We had focused on the one word of dialogue I had—"Mama"—and dissected it. Masha had helped me to see that I was not simply remembering my mother, not just missing her, but actually wanting her and expecting her to come. Rose was, after all, waking up at two in the morning. She was groggy and didnt (we decided) even remember her mother was dead. She was actually expecting her to show up. When I thought of it like that, it was easy. The whole thing just fell into place.
I did go home with Masha that night. We got in around 3:00, and I made love to her with everything I had. It was time to wake up before we fell asleep, and we were sprawled on top of each other when I let it slip, after 20 minute of thinking it at top volume.
"I love you," I whispered, having to say it but hoping she somehow wouldnt hear.
She kissed me, smiling into my mouth.
"I was wondering when you would figure that out," she said softly. Then she got up and went
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to take a shower.
I could have been devastated, I suppose, that she didnt say it back. I wasnt. Partly because I knew shed loved me first, whether she said it or not, partly because I couldnt be anything but ecstatic, watching her naked ass walk away.
Having nailed the Mama, mama scene, as we all began to call it, I started to enjoy rehearsals. Josh was a reasonable director, and the rest of the cast was a lot of fun. Sydney would occasionally show up when she knew wed be finishing and offer to drive me back to my dorm. Usually, Id let her, Masha grinning devilishly at me behind Sydneys back.
The nights she did drive me home we always wound up fucking in her car. After our initial bathroom encounter, she seemed intent on proving her butch dominance, and I had to struggle just to touch her. I thrilled to her fingers finding their way into me in the darkness of her car, but I wanted her, too. I wasnt wild about the idea of a woman I could rarely touch. Masha had spoiled me with her openness and her impeccable balance of give and take.
The Thanksgiving rehearsals were grueling. Since we had no classes, and our opening was soon, Josh and Robin forced us into fully costumed run-throughs. This was primarily for the technical designers and crew, so there was a lot of stopping and starting. At one point, I stood in the same spot in my pink teddy for almost four hours, while the lighting designer fiddled with various instruments from above. It was for the Mama, mama scene, so the rest of the actors were off somewhere taking a break. I stood and stood and stood.
Eventually, even Josh said, "That looks good, Jaye. Consider me satisfied."
Still, I heard steps on the catwalks, metal things scraping each other. More adjustments of light ensued.
"Guess its not all about what I think," smiled Josh.
"Freakin perfectionist," I growled, squinting up at the lights.
"Shut up, Kelsey," said Robin. "Jayes doing her job."
Her? Id thought from the name on the list that Jaye was a guy. I shut up, but squirmed with impatience. The lights were glaring at me and changing colors as Jaye replaced the gels. I was hot and disoriented under them. I sweated. I glared blindly where I imagined Jaye might be, taking her sweet time.
"Robin," I mewled, "I have to pee."
"Always the same excuse," Robin grunted.
There was a hushed conversation from above—Jaye and her crew discussing the matter. I crossed my fingers and tried to look wilted.
"Let her go," said a male voice from above. "Get someone small to stand in her spot and hold up something pink."
Relief surged through me. In moments I was freed by one of the production assistants who put on my pink robe.
"Thank you," I mouthed up at the blinding light.
I headed to the lobby to join the others.
"No way did Jaye have you in there under those lights all that time," said Shelly.
I
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