Declan and I went up the stairs to the stage and took our places. A moment later, we each took a deep breath, our signal that we were ready, and I tuned the whole world out as we began our scene.
I’d never actually given any thought to acting until Kaylee had asked for help with the production and of course I was there for her to read lines with the boys. I thought it might be fun (mostly because of the boys, I’m not going to lie). But then I realized I was good at it and somehow landed one of the leads in the play. I mean, the production was going to be hilarious in that we were swapping gender roles, making me Romeo and Declan Juliet. If nothing else, that was going to make for a fun show. Add the calamity of a few really awful actors (like Phillip Carson) and it was a guaranteed sellout. But more than that, I was actually finding myself enjoying the acting, not to mention the fun I had with the fellow cast and crew. For a millisecond, I considered changing my career focus, but then as I remembered Abe’s memoir and thought about my mother’s already unrealistic body image crap, I immediately dismissed it. But for the time being and for our little production, it was all good.
Until I realized the hoodie was a bad choice. I’d forgotten how hot the stage lights were and since I normally wore something a lot smaller and thinner, exposing much more skin, I had no idea what being under those lights in a full sweatshirt might be like. Thankfully, Declan and I pretty much nailed our scene, so after we ran through it the one time, I escaped off the stage to take a seat down with Kaylee. But as I emerged from the beams of spotlights, I realized Mr. Stratton sat by himself, watching the rest of the actors on stage as they set themselves up for the next scene. Regardless, I dropped into the seat next to him, comforted by the fact that he was very unlikely to be able to hear my racing heart through the thick sweatshirt, but day-um, he was just as gorgeous close up as he was from afar.
“You were great up there,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks,” I said, returning the smile, allowing my gaze to linger on his a bit too long, making him look away.
“Declan is, too. You two have great chemistry.”
I laughed. “Don’t let Kaylee hear you say that.”
He looked at me again. “Acting chemistry, I meant,” he corrected, frowning.
I shrugged. “Just kidding. Of course he’s Kaylee’s.” I said. “And anyway, I would never go for him. He’s not...mature enough.”
Mr. Stratton blinked at me several times and I swear, I could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he was trying to figure out if I was flirting with him.
My spreading smile erased any doubt, I was sure. He cleared his throat and looked back at the stage. “Maybe you should go sit with the rest of the cast,” he said, his voice low.
I have to say here that there’s something really gratifying about getting a reaction out of a teacher, even though nothing would ever happen. I mean, no matter how young he was, he was still a teacher, which of course made him off-limits. This fact is exactly what made flirting with him so easy; there was nothing on the line, so I didn’t even have to think about it.
But he obviously wasn’t loving it as much as I was. “Ms. Spencer...” he added in a warning tone.
I rose from the seat. “See you in class,” I said with another lingering look before I tossed my hair and left sit with Naomi. As I shuffled down the row of seats to the aisle, I saw Kaylee rushing in.
“Sorry!” she called out to no one in particular.
I stopped her in the aisle before she joined Mr. Stratton. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I was helping Brooklyn with the math assignment and lost track of time and by the time I realized I was late...” she lowered her voice, glancing up at the stage. “Well, I needed to change, of course.”
I didn’t have to turn to know what or who she was looking at. “He doesn’t care what you’re wearing,” I said.
She grinned, blushing. “No, I know. But I couldn’t wear ratty old sweatpants.” She glanced over at Mr. Stratton and then cringed before saying, “Okay, I’d better go get settled. You did your scene already?”
“Yeah.”
She leaned in close, her eyes darting toward the back of the room. “What is Abe doing here?”
I exhaled, forcing myself to not look back at where he was sitting. “I don’t know. Gloating?”
“I doubt it. He’s not the gloating type,” she said, which I guess was true. “Do you think he wants a part? I’d happily swap him in and toss out Phillip.”
I snorted, though I wasn’t sure who I’d want in the production less: Phillip Carson, the horrible actor who also happened to be a douche, or Abe who was a great actor, but who was on the top of my people to punch in the face list. Tomato/tomahto, I guess.
Not that it was up to me, anyway. But I still wondered what Abe was doing there. It wouldn’t be until after rehearsal that we found out.
~ ♥ ~
Once Kaylee called a wrap on rehearsal, I tugged Miles into the wardrobe room for some alone time so I could hopefully disprove my hypothesis.
We then had this conversation:
Him: “Football, bench press, football, blah, blah, blah...football, scrimmage, yards, touchdown, blah, blah, blah...”
Me: “Really? That is so awesome. You are going to get drafted for sure!” *hair toss*
Him: “Football, squats, field goal, scouts, game, quarterback, blah, blah...”
Me: “Your biceps are huge!” *Chelly feels biceps and has a weird feeling that Abe’s are bigger and maybe even more defined. Then Chelly berates herself for comparing.*
Him: “Coach said blah, blah, blah...”
Me: *Chelly stabs herself in the eye.*
Sigh. I wasn’t ready to throw all my work away, but I was getting the feeling that my lack of sexiness was contributing to us having the most ridiculously inane conversation ever. Maybe with all my baggy clothes, he forgot I was a girl.
“Hey Miles,” I said finally, cutting through the football talk before I screamed.
“Yeah?”
I took a breath and prepared myself, because the truth is, while it seems like I’m the kind of girl who blurts out anything and has no filter, some things are still difficult to say. And the question that was coming next, was one of those things. “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
He looked at me for a long moment of what I had to assume was his version of deep thinking before he said, “Huh?”
“Like, do you want us to go out?”
“Can we make out?”
Really? “That’s implied, I think,” I said.
“Then yeah,” he said with a shrug, like I’d just asked him if he wanted fries with that.
Okay, so that was technically the answer I was looking for, but for some reason, it felt a little flat. “Exclusively,” I said, feeling the need to clarify. “As in, you can’t make out with other people.”
He frowned. “No?”
Seriously?
“I’m talking about a relationship,” I said, though I don’t know why, because I already knew that by the time we left the room, we were over before we’d even got off the ground.
“Oh. Uh no. But thanks,” he said with a smile that I think was supposed to make me feel better. What a tool.
“Okay, then. I guess I’d better get back out there,” I said, turning toward the door, suddenly needing to get away from him as quickly as possible.
“Wait,” he said.
“What?” I said over my shoulder.
“Don’t we get to make out?”
“Uh, no,” I said. “But thanks.”
New Hypothesis
As I emerged from the wardrobe room, guess who was standing there, watching?
Of course you guessed Abe, right?
I made to step around him to go hang out with Kaylee and Declan (suddenly not caring if I was interrupting their little universe of love) but before I could, Abe stopped me with a big hand on my arm. Even through the sweatshirt, I could feel his firm grip and shiver
ed at the touch, tossing my hair to cover it up, because it would never do to let him think he’d made me shiver. Not that he was interested anyway, I told myself.
“Chelly,” he said. “Can I talk to you?”
I narrowed my eyes up at him, wondering what on earth he could possibly have to say to me. He didn’t look mad, so I figured it wasn’t about my stealing and reading his manuscript or about the magic show thing. What else could there be? But as I thought this, I realized he still had a hold of me, so I raised my eyebrows at him and pointedly looked down at his giant paw on my arm. He dropped his hand as soon as I did.
“What do you want?” I asked, not even bothering to paste a fake smile on my face because I hardly needed to impress him.
He looked around and then nodded over toward the snack table. “Let’s grab a drink.”
Still suspicious but intrigued, I followed him and let him pour me a soda while he worked up to whatever it was he wanted to say.
I stared at him until he finally started. “So, for starters, I wanted to apologize to you.”
Oh, okay, I thought. This is a good start. “Are you calling off the dare?”
He blinked at me twice before he continued as though he hadn’t heard me. “I wanted to apologize for how we left things the other night. I didn’t mean to make you angry; that was actually the last thing I intended to do.”
“So you’re calling off the dare?” I repeated.
He frowned at me. “Are you calling off mine?”
“No,” I said. Because doing the magic show would be good for him. That much was obvious. His dare was just...well...mean.
He lifted an eyebrow.
“So no?” I asked, now making an effort to smile innocently.
“No,” he said with a slow shake of his big giant head that I guess matched his big giant hands and the big giant rest of him.
Time for a different tactic? “Not even if I make it worth your while?” I said, looking up at him through my lashes.
He choked on his soda, a stray droplet even landing on his chin. Okay, so that was unfortunate timing.
“What?’ he growled after wiping his face and coughing a bunch of times.
I lifted a shoulder. “Just kidding.”
He gave me a stern look, which made me worry I’d actually pissed him off, since he obviously so wasn’t interested. But then I noticed the corner of his mouth was twitching.
I exhaled in relief. At least he had a sense of humor, not that I’d ever though he didn’t, I guess, but he’d scared me for a minute there.
“So is that what you came all the way here for? To apologize for being a douche?”
He recoiled. “Who said I was a douche? I was playing the game. It got a bit intense, but I don’t think I was being a douche.” He exhaled before shaking his head and saying, “And if I was, I apologize, but I was kind of almost naked and freezing my...butt off.”
And then he blushed. Abe. The former child actor who had been dragged through the tabloids when rumor got out that he had lost his virginity to one of his adult co-stars (refuted in his memoir, but still). This was the guy who’d been through the kinds of things that I would think would have completely killed his ability to blush.
I smiled at him. For real this time. Because there is something disarmingly irresistible about a big guy blushing.
“Anyway,” he continued. “That’s not the only reason I came.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Okay?” I said, finishing the last of my soda and putting the cup down on the table, pointedly ignoring the bowl of chips. Even though I could practically hear them calling my name.
“Well, if I have to do a magic show...” he said, bringing my attention back to him.
“Right...?” I crossed my arms.
“I’m going to need an assistant.”
It’s not that I didn’t understand the words he’d said or where he was going with this. Lack of understanding wasn’t what made me gawk at him for several long seconds, it was that I couldn’t believe what he was asking. Unless I was completely off base, but I didn’t think so. “And you want me to be it,” I said finally.
A lopsided smile turned up the right side of his mouth. “It seems fitting since it was your dare.”
Touché. And though I wasn’t about to admit it, I did like the idea. Being a magician’s assistant was probably like being one of the girls on The Price is Right. Totally fun. There were just a few complications.
“But I have to do the scene from the play at the show,” I said.
He shrugged. “You nailed it up here earlier. I can’t think of any reason you can’t do both.”
Good point. But...
“What would I wear?” I asked. “I can’t exactly be a magician’s assistant like this.” I pointed down at my baggy outfit that made me feel like...well...Naomi.
He screwed up his face, which made me think he had at least an ounce of sense if he realized my current wardrobe limitations weren’t going to work. “No, magician’s assistants normally wear something more...”
“Slutty?”
Abe frowned. “Sequined is what I was going to say. Showy.”
“Okay, fine, showy. But you know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I think it’s fair to make one exception to the dare since it’s for the stage. But,” he added in a warning tone when I smiled and was about to clap my hands. “I get to pick it. It’s my show and I don’t want to be overshadowed by my assistant.”
“Magician’s assistants are supposed to be sexy.”
He rolled his eyes. “I get to pick the outfit. It will be showy but not slutty.”
I gave him a fake pout, which made him shake his head, but he was smiling. “So, you in?” he said finally.
“Well, since you did apologize for being such a douche,” I said, winking when he opened his mouth to protest. “I’ll do it. But how will I know what to do?”
“We’ll have to rehearse. Nothing too complicated, but we’ll have to run through the routine at least a couple of times.”
I put my hands on my hips indignantly. “Are you sure this isn’t just a ruse to get me alone?”
His eyes widened and then narrowed when I laughed out loud.
“Stop teasing me,” he said, but he wasn’t really mad.
“Whatever,” I said, waving him off. “I know you’re not trying to get me alone.” I mean, he was probably the last guy I ever expected to try to get me alone.
“Right,” Abe said, a bit of an edge to his voice. “Because I’m the friend zone guy.”
The way he said it made me think there was something up about that. Was he still bitter about Brooklyn? But as I looked at him, he was smiling, making me think I could have imagined it.
“Anyway,” I said. “It’s soon, so we should figure out times. How much time do you think we need to practice?”
He shrugged. “I know my part, so it’s just a matter of showing you what I’ll be doing and then getting you to work around my routine.”
“Am I going to learn all your secrets?”
He stared at me for a second before he laughed nervously and said, “Oh, you mean the magic.”
Making me think he thought I meant other secrets. I rolled my eyes. “I read your manuscript, Abe,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I know all your secrets. And really, if you’re publishing a book, everyone is going to know your secrets.”
Unable to resist a moment longer, I reached across the table to grab a handful of chips out of the bowl, but I’m almost positive when I did, he muttered something that sounded a lot like, “Not all of them.”
What does that mean?
But when I turned back, Declan and Kaylee had joined us so there was no asking him about it. So instead, I told them how I was going to be the Great Abramo’s Lovely Assistant for the upcoming talent show.
Abe rolled his eyes, but said he didn’t have a better name for his magician alter-ego, so after some coaxing by Declan, he gave in and officially became The Grea
t Abramo. Hilarious, right?
“This is going to be fun. I’m actually looking forward to it,” I said to him, meaning it.
And the most important part? I was going to be on stage in front of Westwood (and Rosewood) students, wearing something showy. If that wasn’t a good way to find a boyfriend, I didn’t know what was.
But this new development meant I was going to need to change my hypothesis again: Lovely Assistants wearing showy outfits get their choice of boyfriends.
I just had to figure out who I’d be choosing from.
If only Brooklyn’s brother had returned to school with her. He totally would have made it to the top of my list. Letting out a sigh over that missed opportunity, I thought about the rest of the single guys I knew, dismissing Miles, of course.
And then it came to me: Maybe an Olympian was what the doctor ordered.
Studying with Kaylee
“Ugh, I will never be good at this stuff,” I said, closing my laptop and leaning back against the wall. Kaylee and I were sitting on her bed in her dorm room, working on my dreaded physics homework.
“Yes you will,” Kaylee assured me, nudging my leg with her knee. “You started to get the concepts. And I’m not just saying that. Don’t you feel like you understand it a bit more than you did when you came in here?”
I gave her a look, but then nodded, because she was right. I liked complaining about it, but I was actually feeling better about physics now that I’d enlisted her help. I wasn’t confident enough that I was sure I’d pass an exam if it was handed to me at that moment, but with a good tutor like Kaylee helping me, I felt pretty good about the upcoming test if we kept at it.
“I do,” I admitted. “Thanks to you. I really appreciate the help, Kaylee.”
She smiled and shrugged. “I like teaching. If I can’t handle med school, I might just go to teacher’s college.”
“You’d be an awesome teacher,” I said, meaning it. She was so patient and had a knack for explaining things that made sense to me. Not that Mr. Stratton was a bad teacher, I just needed some one on one help from someone who wasn’t distractingly, handsomely male. Plus, she took it that extra step and made sure I was getting it.
Acting Out Page 5