Page 28 of Witch Please
“But, Imogen, that’s different! Your fears were unfounded. No one would have ever thought less of you. Whether you wore the lingerie or not, whether you stumbled over your lines or knocked your performance out of the park.”
“While that may be the case—to me those fears felt very real, and yet I still placed all it in your hands.”
I couldn’t belabor the point anymore.
“Goodbye, Sebastian.” I kissed him and went back inside.
Chapter 22
For the first few days I tried every way possible to get Imogen to meet me, sit down for coffee, or even reply to a text message. I’d called Patrick and asked that he intercede on my behalf. He refused. He told me I needed to think about what she had said and really digest it. This was something he was not able to help me fix.
Trying to get any work done when nothing felt right, was nearly impossible. Franklin kept pushing me to pick the spring production so they could announce it ahead of the Thanksgiving holiday. Auditions would have to start at the top of the spring term in January. I didn’t want to pick anything. I couldn’t even try to decide without having contact with Imogen. I wanted to talk to her about my ideas for the spring festival and get her thoughts.
It was while I was in the middle of arguing with Franklin over why I wouldn’t even tell him the plays I considered that I had a monumental realization. I did trust Imogen with my career. I’d made a massive misstep, sure. I reacted in a terrible way as a result of something that happened in my past that had nothing to do with her. But the fact that I was so frozen in my ability to come to this decision was a giant billboard to me that I not only trusted her opinion but held it in the highest esteem.
Me: Have you heard from Imogen?
I shot off a text to Patrick. This realization made me giddy. I needed to find her right away. Everything she’d said—I needed to clear the air and share with her. Share with her this lightning bolt of clarity that finally revealed itself to me.
Patrick: I’m going to tell you the same thing I told her.
Patrick: Figure your own shit out.
Patrick: I’m not your intermediary.
Patrick: But obviously since you both clearly miss each other—maybe you should be the adult and call her!
I did one better.
* * *
She answered her door wrapped in a sweater, her glasses tucked in front of a messy bun that pushed the end of her hair in every which way. It was her studious look. Either she was grading papers, or writing research of her own.
“Sebastian…” There was so much in the way she said my name. It sounded like a question, and a sigh, a complaint and expression of joy all rolled into one.
“I won’t take up too much of your time. I know you’re busy with the end of term. I had the most amazing thing happen to me today.”
I had considered how to approach her, and which tack to take to try to get my point across.
“These past few weeks I’ve been feeling out of sorts. Losing you—and having that loss hit home every time I turned to banter with you, or chat about our days, to flirt with, or fight over which show to watch on TV—it all left me feeling like a foreigner in my own skin. I’d become a person I didn’t recognize. Quiet, withdrawn, filled with so much shame I could barely hold my head straight.”
She opened her door further, stepping back to give me enough room to walk through.
“Would you like some tea?”
I felt buoyed by the offer. Tea took time. It said let’s sit and catch up.
“Sure. Would you like some help?” I knew she’d say no. She hated having her tea selection and pot not being put backjust so,therefore refused any help with preparing it. I took the armchair, knowing how much she hated to sit in it, and expecting she’d take the overstuffed chair opposite.
“Franklin came to my office today for the fifth time in a matter of days telling me I had to pick the spring play immediately. We need to secure costumes or get the announcement to the clubs and schools to garner interest in auditions. He frustrated me to the point that I almost snapped at him that I was waiting to hear from you because I couldn’t make a decision until I ran it by you. That may not sound like the most earth shattering thing, but it kicked me in the pants with the realization that I respect the hell out of your opinion. That of everyone, friends, colleagues, that you have become the person I trust most to help me with hard decisions.”
I was smiling like a fool but her countenance hadn’t changed at all.
“Don’t you see, Geenie. It was there all along—I just didn’t know what it was.”
She remained pretty impassive, but I had come prepared for that.
“I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking about what you said. How it was because of your trust in me that you felt secure enough to make what you thought were huge scary leaps. And as I replayed our argument in my head, and thought about all of the ways that you said I helped you—I had forgotten in the upset of the moment to examine all of the ways that I had been helped by puttingmytrust inyouand taking the same leap. When I came to you and begged you to be part of my play? I told you it was because there was no one I trusted more to take on the role of the witch. I knew there would be no one better than you do it. No one smarter. No one who knew the work better or would fearlessly push through challenges you faced while learning the role, all because I could trust you wanted to see to my success.”