Chapter Summary: After Chloe gives Steph the 'go-ahead' to make a move on Rachel, Steph takes her shot in the changing room before The Tempest. Rachel just asks for a little time to think - just until after the play. What could go wrong in that short of a time, anyway?

"Yeah, well . . . good luck with all of that. Maybe I'll see you later." Chloe stood, hands stuffed into the pockets of her jacket, and turned to go with a small, encouraging smile.

"Oh, hey. I wanted to ask you something."

Steph wanted to keep her cool, but now that the moment of truth was here, she could just feel her mouth go dry. She didn't want to have this conversation - but she needed to.

Chloe slowed, then dropped back onto the bench next to her. With the tiniest shrug, she replied, "Shoot."

Steph had been practicing the script since yesterday, and she already knew it by heart. It came out even though she couldn't focus on the words themselves at this point; "I've been planning to make a move on Rachel, but not if you two were together."

Chloe didn't reply immediately, as typical. She just sort of sat there, her eyes shifting around as she thought without quite making eye contact. It was always like she had some internal monologue going on, and although they hadn't talked much, Steph had already learned to just wait. Not everyone practiced these conversations - it was almost nice that Chloe took the time to take people seriously.

Finally, Chloe re-established eye contact and asked, "Make a move?" It was so flat that it didn't feel like a question.
She wanted an explanation? Fine.

Steph allowed herself a glance up at the sky, a space to make the words appear in her head, then asked, "So, are you?"

"Uh."

That's not a no.

"I mean, that's Rachel's business - or maybe yours and Rachel's business - but if you feel comfortable telling me..."

Chloe's head cocked to the side and she closed her eyes, as if taking the world's longest stunned blink. "You think we're . . . together?"

Steph let out a tiny sigh, but it wasn't hard to offer the pieces of her logic. "You've been hanging out a lot, which I know might not mean anything, but," she shrugged, "I like to be extra careful about these things."

Chloe was staring somewhere off to the side of Steph's head, a faraway look in her eye. Even as she started to reply, it was clear that gears were turning in her head about something. "She's . . . single." There was something in that pause. Doubt? Disappointment? It's not like Steph couldn't sympathize with how these things could get complicated, but she was going to do everything she could to make it un-complicated.

"You sure?" she challenged, quirking her eyebrows.

Chloe glanced even further away. "That's what I said." There was frustration, now. Something had happened to cast that into doubt, maybe, but whatever it was, Chloe sounded resolved on this.

Maybe Rachel rejected her? Or vise versa? Once they actually spent time together, they found out that they were incompatible?

Steph tried her best not to speculate, but that was all she managed to do in the few seconds before Chloe rose from the seat, signaling that the conversation was over. "I'll see you later, Steph," she said, pulling her hands from her pockets.

"Have fun storming the castle," Steph replied dreamily, trying not to get excited about the sliver of opportunity she genuinely hadn't expected to receive. A definitive answer. A go-ahead.

Chloe gave a little wave as she stalked off towards the dorms, and as soon as she was out of sight, Steph afforded herself a grin. She knew that, if things happened as she imagined, Chloe was probably hurting right now, and that honestly didn't make her feel good. But right now, she was too abuzz with the excitement of seeing Rachel soon to be graceful. She should check in with Chloe later, definitely. But right now was Steph's moment.

Steph: hey when are you going to be on-campus? call time?

Rachel replied within seconds.

Rachel: i actually just got here. whats up?

Steph: would you be cool to talk in like, 15? i'm just headed to the stage in a sec

Rachel: ya, totally :) ill see you then

Steph stuffed her things away hurriedly, not even noticing Chloe's antics to get into the dorms, nor Samantha as she tried to grab Steph's attention before she bolted for the school courtyard.

She found Rachel in the women's changing room, already dressed as Prospera and sitting contemplatively in front of the mirrors. Her eyes darted to the side, and they made eye contact through the mirror's reflection before Steph sat on the desk beside Rachel.

"Hey you," Rachel greeted her warmly, jolting Steph into even twitchier delight.

"Hey Rachel," Steph greeted, self-consciously pulling her beanie back and smoothing her hair.

"What's up?" Rachel asked, turning in her chair to face her straight-on.

"Would it . . . be cool if we had a kind of awkward conversation that you can totally opt out of at any point if you don't like it?"

Rachel looked surprised, but bemused. "That's kind of a scary preamble, but, uh, yeah, totally. Would you mind doing my makeup while we talk, though?"

"Not at all," Steph replied, although the actual idea of touching Rachel's face in very precise ways while she was this overstimulated was frankly terrifying.

Steph knew the odds, of course. She knew that about six in one hundred women in their generation identified as bi or lesbian, and in a class of 90 students (slight majority girls), that meant 3 were likely to be gay. She already knew Rachel and Chloe, and she had either already dated or hated (or both) every queer junior (and most of the seniors, but they were graduating anyway). Liking Rachel was more than just a crush. It was a hope beyond hope to have a normal high school relationship when the odds were completely against her. And of all the queer girls Steph had ever asked out, it had taken her the longest to ask Rachel out precisely because she really, genuinely liked her. They had hung out all year in drama. They had chemistry. She knew they did.

Steph did everything she could to not be terrified at rejection and instead to just be terrified at the prospect of getting through this conversation. She arranged Rachel's makeup while Rachel pinned her hair back. She hesitated to say anything until she started, so that her mind was at least clear enough to not fuck up what makeup she was doing.

"So," Rachel said, eyes closed while Steph worked, "What is this awkward conversation you wanted to have?" There was a smile playing on her lips, but then again, when wasn't there one?

Where to begin?

"So . . . I kinda just had this talk with Chloe. About you . . . and her."

"Oh?" Rachel asked, opening one eye to help convey her curiosity. She closed it again and said, "What did she say?"

"Well," Steph swallowed, then continued, "I asked her if you two were . . . together. And she told me you were single."

Rachel quirked her eyebrows without opening her eyes. "Did she now?"

Steph nodded, though Rachel couldn't see it. "Yeah. I told her that, if there was nothing going on between you two, that I wanted to make a move on you . . . and this is it."

Rachel giggled. Giggling - that's a positive sign, right? She didn't sound uncomfortable, far from it.

Rachel nodded, Steph pausing to make sure she didn't smear anything she wasn't supposed to smear. "Well, alright," Rachel said, a smile growing on her face. "This is a hella meta move you're making, though?"

"Yeah, it's a little meta," Steph replied. Rachel was being playful, and it coaxed her on. Steph felt safe enough to take a larger risk. "But, I guess I'm kind of just a dork like that. It's not always super easy for me to just say, 'I like you, and I'd like to take you out on a date if that'd be cool' even when that's what I mean, so I have to go for a more subtle approach."

"Ah, yes, very subtle." Rachel replied, dead-pan and straight-faced. But the smile she was holding back quickly overwhelmed her, and they both began to laugh. It was a silly, weak way to ask someone out, but if Rachel found it endearing, Steph didn't feel the need to self-deprecate too hard about it.

When things grew quieter again, Steph said gently, "But, for real. I like you. And I'd like to take you out on a date . . . if that'd be cool."

"Steph. You're hella cute." Rachel did the one-eye open again while Steph applied eye shadow on the other side. "And really hot, too. And I want to say 'yes' . . . but-"

Steph's heart sank so fast she almost didn't hear the follow-up.

"- but I've got . . . a lot going on right now, and I could use a little time to figure out what to say."

So, 'no, but maybe someday' . . . lovely.

"Could we talk at the cast party tonight?" asked Rachel.

It took Steph a few seconds to put the pieces together, but when she did, she felt a rush of relief. A few hours was nothing. And as much as she'd like to have an answer, and as much as she'd like to be undistracted during the Tempest, she was the one that decided to have shitty timing. There was also the possibility that Rachel was just going to say 'no', and was protecting herself by waiting until after opening night was done and making sure there were other people nearby, but that didn't bother Steph. As fun as dating could be, it's also important to keep yourself safe. There's a part of her that is sad that Rachel has had to learn that so early . . . but on the other hand, Steph couldn't just expect other people to have a smoother life than her all the time. Not even Rachel.

"Of course," Steph replied softly.

"Thank you," Rachel replied, just as quiet. "For that, and for asking me out."

Steph just smiled softly as she worked, the both of them quiet for several minutes.

Eventually, Steph said, "You're gonna kill it tonight."

"Well, I am the stormcaller," Rachel replied glibly.

Steph's phone started to vibrate. She really didn't want to stop what she was doing, stop this quiet moment with Rachel all alone in the changing room, but today was not the day she could ignore her phone.

The call was from Juliet.

Steph: "Yo?"

Juliet: "Steph, hey! Look, hey, the wild fire has been spreading and it's cut off the highway into Arcadia Bay. My family's willing to drive around, but there's no way I'm going to be in time for the Tempest."

Steph: "Shit, seriously? I didn't know it had gotten that bad."

Juliet: "Yeah, they totally thought they had it contained up until a few hours ago but things are kind of a mess right now. I'm so fucking sorry."

Juliet not showing up basically added up to a disaster. They barely had enough kids in theater to run the minimum of cast and crew, and there were a sorry number of understudies. To make matters worse, Juliet had professed to have the world's most hardcore immune system and that there was no way she would miss a night, so she didn't even have one of the double-or-triple-cast understudies ready. They were absolutely fucked.

Steph: "We'll figure it out. And I'm really sorry to ask this, but can you make sure you come as soon as possible? I know Mr. Keaton might cancel everything, but if we're going to have any hope of salvaging this . . ."

Juliet: "Absolutely, I understand. My parents are OK with the risk. I'll be there in, like . . . under two hours."

Two hours. What a goddamn nightmare.

Rachel had been staring at Steph, concerned, this whole time, but Steph just kept her back to her and tried to focus. As she became more and more agitated and started looking around as if an answer would just materialize, Rachel came more and more into her view.

Steph: "Got it. We'll handle it as best we can. I'll see you soon."

Juliet: "Yeah, bye Steph."

Steph: "Bye."

"Who was that? Who's missing?" Rachel asked as soon as Steph hung up the phone.

Steph turned around, and her composure was already slipping now that Juliet couldn't hear her. "Juliet "I don't need an understudy" fucking Watson. We're not going to have an Ariel in at least, uh, two hours, and doors open in, oh . . ." Steph checked her phone. "Thirty minutes! There's going to be at least one Ariel scene before she can be ready, dammit."

Steph was undoing all of her cool from her conversation with Rachel, and she knew it, but right now she was Stage Manager Steph Gingrich, not Lonely Lesbian Steph Gingrich, and she had desperately little time to figure this out.

"Well . . . shit," was all Rachel replied with, and Steph nodded in agreement.

On the desk, Rachel's phone buzzed. She checked it, quickly typed out a message, and then went to set it down. However, she paused a second before putting it down, a distant, thinking look in her eyes, staring into the mirror but not back at herself or Steph.

She pivoted, and like a spark dropped into gasoline, Rachel's eyes were ablaze with sudden, almost manic energy. She started talking fast and kind of loud and asked, "Steph do you trust me?"

"Y-yeah? Why?" Steph replied nervously as Rachel stepped closer, beaming.

Rachel said, "I've got a really bad, absolutely fucking genius idea, but I'm going to need your help talking her into it."

Steph had no idea how to possibly reply except with a bewildered, "Talk who into what?"

And Rachel grinned the most conniving grin Steph had ever seen.

Chloe made a good Ariel. Her line delivery was unsteady, as if she struggled to grasp the tone of the scene or even any given line, but considering she'd only had about thirty minutes after costume change to learn her lines, her acting may as well have been a fucking miracle, because she nailed every single one verbatim. Steph could barely believe that it had taken Hayden, who she considered to be one of the better actors on the cast, until dress rehearsal to go the full play without missing any lines, but Chloe only took as long as it took her to read them. She hadn't even been reading out loud! When Rachel mentioned that Chloe was a genius, she thought she was just talking her up for Mr. Keaton, not that she was an actual fucking genius!

The scene between Ariel and Prospera was coming to a close, but Steph had not let out her sigh of relief just yet. You can't be certain a scene has gone well until the actors have left the stage and the next scene has started smoothly. But at least no one was going to call this play a failure because there had been no Ariel to perform lines.

"Is there more toil?" Ariel huffed. "Let me remember thee what thou hast promised," she replied bitterly, dropping her hands in frustration. The timing was off, but the gesture was still good.

Shocked, offended, Prospera glanced first to the audience and asked, "How now?" Slowly, her gaze cut through the audience, then, sharp as a knife, it landed on Ariel. "What is 't thou canst demand?" Her gaze softened as she looked back over the audience.

Ariel took a deep breath. "My . . . liberty," she said, pained, taking a step back, as if ashamed.

Mr. Keaton gasped, "Indeed!," exhilarated by every gesture Chloe performed right without ever being taught.

When Prospera spoke again, it was the closest she'd come during the whole scene to facing straight at Ariel, as if to ignore the audience. She sounded cold, arrogant. "Thy . . . liberty?" She rolled her eyes - her whole head, really - dramatically. Then, quite unexpectedly, she cried, "Nay! This most of all I will not grant." She shook her head a little, disappointed.

The look of shock that dawned on Chloe's face was matched on Steph's, who became consumed by horror in an instant. Rachel never fucked up her lines. She never, ever fucked up her lines. This wasn't a fuck-up. She was going off-script. And Rachel only ever went off-script when she thought she knew how to make something better, so she probably wasn't about to stop.

Mr. Keaton's sharp intake of breath came only a second later as he realized the same thing, but his attention became rapt, making no moves to try and prompt Chloe as she looked about for any sign as to what she was supposed to do.

Ariel looked nervous, and spoke even more slowly now, but it didn't break character. She said, "But . . . thou assured my freedom . . . didn't thou?"

Apparently, no matter how good she was with lines, Chloe couldn't keep Old English pronouns straight. Probably no one in the audience could either, though.

Prospera's voice softened. "I never said how dearly I hold thee; my habit's been to keep my soul well-draped." She paused, and continued, "Most loyal spirit, companion, and friend -" she grew louder, almost shouting, "Is acting in my service not replete with excitement, amusement, and delight?!"

They were transfixed - Mr. Keaton, Steph, even Ariel.

As Prospera stepped closer, the confusion and frustration dropped from Ariel's voice and she replied, "Of course, mistress . . ." and then, a stage whisper: "most truly it is so."

Steph hadn't even noticed Nathan standing behind her, trying to keep an eye on the stage. When she spoke up, he sounded pissed: "Mr. Keat, they're way off script!"

Mr. Keaton shushed him without even looking and said, "It's magical," filled with reverence.

And Steph, although something horrible was twisting inside her, agreed.

"Then why, I pray you, wish you to be free?"

Ariel was trembling. She couldn't bear to look Prospera in the eye, her head ducked down so far in shame that it was the eyes of the jeweled raven on her head that matched Prospera's instead.

Ariel said, "Excitement's . . . a mere . . . counterfeit of bliss." She found some resolve in these words, because she looked up now frantic, exasperated. "These storms, and these adventures? I prefer to know . . . thou still cared for my . . . plainest self."

Oh.

Prospera slammed her staff on the stage and waved her hand over the stage. "I have thee in my grasp;" she replied coldly, "I will not bend."

Gradually, as she continued, the stage, the play entirely felt like it was melting away, and Steph couldn't tell if she was looking at Prospera and Ariel . . . or Rachel and Chloe.

Prospera said, "I will not see you flying forth alone! The envy would be more than I could bear."

Ariel grimaced, like she was biting back tears. Like Chloe had learned how to act in the past ten seconds or . . . like this was real.

She said, "So come with me! Is that not in thy power?"

"Spirit," Prospera said, commanding, "take my hands."

Nathan, Keaton, Steph, probably the audience as well - they held their breath as Prospera dropped to her knees, slowly offering up her hands in supplication.

As Ariel took her hands, Prospera said, "Most faithful friend . . ." as if she too could feel the awe of what was happening here.

She continued, "For but a little longer I beseech: continue in thy service to my schemes. And when they are complete, I swear to thee: we shall fly beyond this isle - the corners of the world our mere prologue. I'll seek to make even thy happiness so great that e'en the name of liberty's forgot."

Steph was crying, but not for the same reasons as Mr. Keaton beside her.

Ariel once again could not look Prospera in the eye, but neither could she duck her head to avoid her - she looked out towards the audience.

Prospera asked, "What sayest thou to my most hopeful wish?"

And their eyes locked. Ariel's eyes were wide and afraid, and there was so much in that look that Steph wanted to appreciate for how well this scene was going, for what a good Ariel they had found, but that was not what she could see at all. All she saw was Chloe, and the face of a girl falling in love.

From somewhere distant in the audience, there was a cry: "Say yes!"

And a grin crossed Ariel's face, like nothing Steph had ever seen her wear before. "Yes," she replied.

"I am most pleased," Prospera said as she rose to her feet. "Your duty, done for now. So go forth hence with haste! I've work to do."

Ariel looked startled that the play was back on track, but Prospera's gaze guided her along the path she needed to take for stage exit, and soon she was back stage, Steph and Mr. Keaton stepping apart so she could walk through.

"You crushed it!" Juliet half-whispered, half-yelled as she emerged from back stage. She looked absolutely gleeful. "Sooo good!" She pulled Chloe into a crushing hug that Chloe absolutely didn't reciprocate, probably too stunned to even realize she was being spoken to or touched.

Steph turned away, towards the curtains so that no one could see her wiping tears off of her cheeks.

"You're a born thespian, my dear," Mr. Keaton praised her. "I'll be chasing you down next year. And the ending! Absolutely transformative. I am humbled."

"Thanks," Chloe replied awkwardly, then turned to go.

She paused before she did so, as if she just noticed Steph was there. "Steph, are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine," she replied, turning to face Chloe, her face hardening like plastic to keep anything from showing. "I'm fine. You did great."

This time at least, Chloe gave a weak smile. "Thanks." Her eyes slid away from Steph, back towards the stage where Prospera was monologuing, and Steph couldn't bear to watch the look on her face any longer.