Karissa

THE END (it's in block letters because I'm serious; there is no turning back)

"He hates that picture," she commented, paging back to the cast headshots, "but Lavender said, 'Jesse, Sweeney-mad teenage theater geeks are paying good money to get that picture blown up at photo shops and hanging it on their bedroom walls like you're Ryan Reynolds, and Jesse scowls and goes, 'Well, not with that picture!' It hasn't gotten to his head at all." We sat back, waiting and watching the overture. When Jesse came rising from his own grave, I got chills down my spine. It was a treat beyond words, and he was just so good, strutting around on that stage like he owned it and he'd have Judge Turpin's head on a platter by the end of it all. At the bloody bits, Karissa would shriek, and sink her fingernails into my arm. It was reminiscent of those very fun high-school horror-movie dates I used to go on with Erica, just better.

When the lights came up, our voices were hoarse from yelling as loud as we could manage, and we'd clapped so hard that our hands were tingling, almost numb.

"I knew you would love it," Karissa whispered, dabbing a stray tear from her eye. "We can stop back and see him if you want."

"How?"

"Oh, Jesse loves visitors. You'd think a full-length show every night would tire him out, but he's always back there waiting for fans for about an hour after." So I let her take me back, and the security guard let us through the door. Jesse's back was away from us; not even out of costume, he had his feet propped up on the table, reading a book. I could see the cover from where I was standing: Neil Gaiman's American Gods, and then I heard his laugh, so familiar, and then, yet, not, that it hurt.

"How old were you the first time you read it?" I called. "I'm taking a survey."

Jesse frowned, tapping his finger against the back of his other hand as he thought.

"Oh, I don't know - fourteen, fifteen? It all seems like ages ag - McCutcheon! Hey, AJ!" American Gods thumped to the floor, and Jesse raced over, just as excited to see me, as I was to see him.

"You were great," I said sincerely, and Jesse lowered his head, giving that same faux-shy, semi-crooked smile I remembered.

"How great?" he pressed, and I smiled. Still having to stroke Jesse's ego! After all this! Imagine!

" Legen - and wait for it; gee, I hope you're not lactose intolerant because the next word is DARY, great, Jesse."

He busted out laughing, then touched his heart in flattered mock-seriousness.

"You made a NPH reference? For moi? Oh, AJ...."

"So, Lavender got her fabulous career, and you're headlining only one of the greatest Broadway revivals...where's -" Seriously? His phone had to ring? I only had one more word to get out yet.

"Sorry," Jesse whispered, "I seriously have to take this - Hold on." He picked up the remote, flipped through the channels and settled back in his chair to watch the live concert on MTV. The camera panned to screaming fangirls, so I had no idea who was playing. Maybe Gaga or Britney, Jesse's longtime obsessions?

"Ok, so I'm watching it...." It was the unmistakable beat of "Thriller"...and then Dominic, busting out his best Michael Jackson moves and belting the lyrics into his mic.

"He lost a bet with Rosie," Karissa explained, but I was still trying to process everything....

"What? Have you been living in a cave for the past six months? Dominic's only more famous than I am because he's mainstream. Broadway never gets that fanbase. And ok, he's the best thing they've seen in five or ten years. But so am I. It's just a different business, y'know? No, I'm super-psyched he's famous. We go to parties and stuff together all the time, and I won't even bring up the music videos today. So Karissa knows this, AJ, but Tim Burton - couldn't you just die? - stopped by and he thanked me for bringing Sweeney back to the masses. I had to decline, of course - he was the one that did the movie, after all, and that's what plucked it from non-Broadway obscurity - but he said that this is the way it was meant to be seen and I was just carrying on a legacy and doing it brilliantly, and if I ever wasn't busy with the show someday.... SOMEDAY I'M GOING TO WORK WITH TIM BURTON!!!!! I mean, I never want this show to be done, but when the end inevitably comes.... Oh, yeah, and I'm taping an episode of Glee next week. You all have to watch it, ok? It's late, and I'm beat, but you should probably go, anyway. I mean, who wants to hear about me all the time?"

"Jesse, it's fine."...But he was right about the time.

"Oh, AJ, wasn't that great?" Karissa stood and looked at me in Grand Central Station (she had to take a taxi to the airport, but she wanted to say goodbye first.)

"You'll come down and see me sometime?"

"Yes," I promised. The plan was already being finalized in my head. It would take a little bit of time, and I had to really think it through first, but....

"I'm thinking about moving to Virginia," I told Blake a couple of months later, after countless phone calls and Skype dates from Karissa.

He looked up from his philosophy textbook.

"For the ex-girlfriend?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "Is that crazy? Am I a stalker now? Maybe she doesn't even like me that much...."

Blake sighed and tried to put his hand on my shoulder (before we both realized how awkward that was and fled to different sides of the room. I know that one brush of guy-on-guy contact won't make me gay, that it's a choice, and not the right one, but I've just never been comfortable with it with anyone but Max.)

"AJ, your rational side is just trying to make excuses so that you back out of it. Do you really want to go?" I did want to. I'd reactivated my Facebook, and Karissa sent me pictures of Liberty's campus, framed by rolling, green, Virginia hills. The rich mountain beauty appealed to a natural side that city-boy me had never accessed, but more than the physical scenery was being there with her. Sometimes love makes you do crazy things, like flying across the country to try and get her back (Annie Hall), or you hear his voice calling across the English moors (Jane Eyre), or you're dying and he's singing a song about your eyes and you see your dead friend at the light at the end of the tunnel and said dead friend tells you, "to turn around and listen to that boy's song!" (that was RENT, and I include it in this list at Jesse's insistence. He would if he was here, anyway, insist on it, or else something from Sweeney Todd, which is, surprisingly, a lot about love.) However, if you're me, it causes you to pick up your things and leave the Ivy League university you've been attending for a far stricter Baptist college that's more than a couple of states away. My parents would be furious, but they would have to understand....I did it all for love (which I think is from a musical, but you can Google that and check for me. No, it's "What I Did For Love". Sorry.)

"I'llmissyou," Blake muttered, slouching, as I packed my bags and sang along badly to my Billy Joel CD. It made me stop completely.

"You will?"

He shifted his shoulders.

"Yeah. You're a neat roommate, and I never have to worry about not being able to come in because you're banging some girl on the bottom bunk. Thanks for that, man."

"I'll write...or something," I promised, and slung my bags over my shoulders. I was doing the right thing, I was sure of it, and I stepped out jauntily, whistling. It felt like an old-time movie moment.

"Wait, AJ!" Blake looked confident and serious.

"You'll invite me to the wedding if it works out? Yeah?"

"And an extra invitation for the girl of the moment," I promised.

"AJ?" Karissa smiled widely when she saw me standing outside her dorm room.

"I can't believe you found your way! It's so big!"

"Harvard's big, too," I reminded her.

"Oh, I'm so happy you're visiting!"

I cleared my throat.

"Karissa, the thing is....I'm not just visiting. I realized as soon as I contacted you that I really missed you, and I'm still in love with you, and...."

"You transferred here for me?"

"And I always secretly wanted to go."

She burst into joyful tears, so I took her in my arms, and we kissed...finally together again. I hoped that nothing would separate us.

....A couple of years later (though not when our characters are old and gray. Not yet.)

Karissa was filling out our wedding invitations in the apartment she currently had (I was staying over for dinner), and I went by and grabbed two off of the table.

"Hey!" she swatted me playfully. "I have an order for those, hon...and what do you need those for?"

"Nothing," I smiled. "Just because." Now, what was the girl's name again...?