He gave a little shrug. “I’m saying, the whole school thinks we’re dating. We are going to be spending a lot of time alone together…”
My heart leapt into my throat. “Are you saying you want to make that lie a truth?”
Are you saying you want to date me? I couldn’t bring myself to spell it out like that because if I’d misunderstood, if he laughed at me, if he gave me a look of pity…I would never survive the humiliation. It would make my dumb Julian movie theater encounter look like a pleasant excursion.
Brian licked his lips and for a second I caught a flash of nerves, which oddly made me relieved. I loved Brian’s confidence but knowing I wasn’t the only one who feared this brave new territory was kind of comforting.
“Would it be such a crazy idea?” he asked. Before I could respond, he hurried on. “We could think of it as a test run. We’ll just try it out. We can spend some time together, run lines and…”
I held my breath.
His grin turned wolfish. “Other things.”
I let out a little laugh as elation mixed with all those other terrifying and thrilling emotions. It gave me the courage to say, “Does ‘other things’ mean kissing?”
He lowered his head until his lips brushed softly against my mine. “It definitely means kissing.”
He lifted his head slightly. He was waiting for me to respond.
I should have thought it through. There were so many things to think about and—
“Sign me up.” My mouth opened. Words came out. It felt right.
At least, I thought it did. I knew my brain would kick in eventually but for right now…the pheromones were in charge. And they were one hundred percent on board with this plan.
I was rewarded by the sexiest grin I’d ever seen. “So,” he said, leaning down to crush my lips with a kiss that spoke volumes about how happy he was, how excited. “We’re dating,” he said between kisses.
I tried to nod but he wouldn’t pause long enough to let me. “We’re dating.”
Alarm bells were going off in the back of my brain.
Or maybe they were celebratory bells.
I didn’t know and I didn’t care. The brain and its overanalyzing ways could take a break for the evening.
The scripts had long since been abandoned on the floor and I refused to overthink this decision, at least not until after Brian and his magic lips had left the building.
My mom either had a sixth sense for when I was making out in her basement or she just really wanted to feed Brian because she interrupted us again to ask if he was staying for dinner.
I arched my brows at him in question. Was he staying for dinner? I mean, we’d just started dating. Sort of. We were trying out dating. Was that the same thing as outright dating?
More importantly, did that mean we were doing dinners at each other’s houses?
“I wish I could, Mrs. Kern,” Brian yelled up the stairs. “But my mom is expecting me home.”
I let out a long sigh. One crisis averted.
He was openly laughing at me as the door clicked closed upstairs. “I have a feeling staying for dinner would be pushing it.” He kind of tousled my hair, making it fall out of its clips entirely so it hung around my face. “Something tells me your brain is about to explode with all these changes.”
I didn’t try to deny it. We might not have been friends for a while but some things didn’t change. My aversion to change and my need to process and overanalyze definitely had not altered.
“That’s fine,” he said, reaching for his bag. “You take all the time you need.”
I followed him to the bottom of the stairs. When he looked back, he gave me the kind of searching, all-seeing look that I was getting used to but still made me blush. I wasn’t used to anyone looking at me in that way.
I wasn’t used to anyone seeing me in that way.
“Your hair looks really pretty down like that.”
I blinked repeatedly. I don’t know what I’d been expecting but it hadn’t been that. “Oh.”
Yup, I said oh, because I’m eloquent like that.
He gave me another lopsided, breathtaking smile and turned to go. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
School. Crap. Reality was already starting to set in. In a flash I was once again keenly aware of the fact that this lie, which was now maybe partially true, had made Hayley call in sick and turned me into a social pariah. Well…into more of a social pariah than I already was.
“But what about Hayley?” I asked.
He paused on the steps and half turned to face me. “What about Hayley?” He shrugged as if Hayley was completely inconsequential. As if she had nothing to do with anything.
I kind of loved that shrug.
“What if she quits the play?” Honestly in that moment I was having a hard time getting too worked up over Hayley quitting. A little tiny part of me would have been happy to see her go.
But the much bigger part of me that wasn’t petty was horrified at the idea that our lie-turned-truth might ruin the play.
“She’ll get over it,” he said. “She loves being the center of attention way too much to let me or you interfere with her leading role.”
He turned and walked away and I was left to watch his butt as he climbed the rest of the stairs.
He had a great butt.
I mean really great.
Long after he and his excellent butt disappeared I tried to convince myself that Brian was right. Hayley would come around. She was a spotlight hog—not unlike Brian. She wouldn’t give up her leading role just because of me.
All we had to do was wait her out.
Chapter Ten
Brian
We waited for Hayley to stop being a poor loser. And then we waited some more. Days passed as we waited for Hayley to end her “sick” strike and resume rehearsals. In the meantime, the rest of the cast ironed out their scenes, with Alice filling in for Hayley.
I was still busy with his team, preparing for the last few games of the playoffs. Whenever I wasn’t with them, I was with her. Alice. My girlfriend…maybe. We hadn’t really figured that out yet. All I knew was that we were having fun together.
And kissing. Good Lord, I couldn’t seem to stop kissing her. She was just so damn kissable. And sweet now that she’d stopped glaring at me with that judgy stare.
I’d forgotten how sweet Alice could be. And how funny. And how smart.
I’d forgotten how much I’d always loved being around her.
We did work too. Sometimes we did homework but mainly we worked on my acting, and I got better. Much, much better. Alice’s little lecture had done the trick. Once I switched my perspective on it, the whole thing changed.
Alice was right, I’d always been a great actor—I’d just never done it on stage.
So yeah, life was good. No, life was great.
For a few days at least.
The problem was, when we were together, we were a little too good at ignoring the rest of the world. But as one day turned into two and then a week had passed…the outside world couldn’t wait for us any longer.
We had a game the next day. One of our last of the season. If we won we’d live to see another day, but if not? Well this could be our last game until next year. The stakes were high. The guys had been understanding about my rehearsals but we were all relieved that I’d put that on the back burner until the playoffs ended.
Now when I was on the field I could focus solely on football. And Alice. It seemed like she was never out of my thoughts for long, and either my teammates picked up on that or they just couldn’t wrap their heads around the fact that I was dating a theater geek. And I used that term with the utmost love and respect.
See, dating Hayley was one thing—she might have been into acting, but she also had a social life. She was popular and hung out with the same crowd that I did. Alice was into theater in an entirely different way. The only person I ever saw her with at school was that Julian kid and I hadn’t even seen h
er with him since our scene in the hallway.
Anyway, the guys had questions. Or, more like, they had comments. They were constantly asking me about her, wondering why she didn’t come to the party that weekend or sit with us at lunch.
I wondered the same thing, but I didn’t push it. I mean, we weren’t even seriously together. We were still trying it out.
That had been my phrasing so I wasn’t complaining, really, just…impatient. It had only been a little over a week so I needed to just chill about the whole thing, but even after only one week I was starting to feel like I was living a double life. One with the team and my friends, and one with Alice and the play.
I only had to go to one rehearsal a week at this point, thanks to Alice’s compromise to tutor me one-on-one until playoffs ended but even at this one rehearsal it became immediately clear that the stakes were high there too.
Or, at least, tensions were running high.
Hayley had called in sick…again. Since Hayley hadn’t missed school, her actions were shady, to say the least. But add to the fact that everyone in that auditorium knew exactly why she was faking an illness and who was to blame?
Yeah, it wasn’t awesome being me in that theater. The only good thing was, no one in the play, at least, seemed to blame Alice. Of course not, she was one of them. She was an artistic geek…and I meant that in the best way.
I’d grown inordinately fond of her weird outfits and her odd hairstyles. I mean, I loved seeing her hair down and her oversized cardigans discarded more, but I loved watching her in the halls and knowing that I was the one who really knew her. That I was the guy who got to hear her thoughts and her jokes, hear her laugh and make her moan.
God, I loved being that guy more than I loved being the superstar quarterback, or the lead in the play, or the guy who could get any girl, or any of the other things I used to care so much about.
But, my point was, the cast and crew seemed to think this was all my fault. I’d been the cocky jerk who’d wooed their beloved stage manager and scorned their not-at-all-beloved diva.
From what I overheard, no one was particularly sad to see the queen bee out of the play, except that they were certain it meant the play was doomed from the start.
So yeah, it wasn’t exactly a cheerful atmosphere when I arrived after practice. And when I took my spot on stage, I could feel the accusatory glares. At least for once Alice wasn’t the one doing the glaring, just…everyone else.
I hadn’t performed in front of this crowd since Alice’s tutoring sessions started last week and I was stupidly nervous. Like…nervous-nervous. I didn’t do nervous, but I freakin’ hated the thought of those snickers from backstage.
Mr. Brenner called out that I should start the scene at the top. Yet again I was standing opposite Alice, but this time we had an audience. She gave me an encouraging smile and I let the rest of the cast fade away.
Seriously, what did any of those losers matter when I had Alice looking at me like that—like I was her personal hero for stepping up on stage today.
For a smile like that I would sing karaoke in front of millions while attempting to breakdance. I can’t sing or breakdance but I would do it anyways.
I know, right? I should totally write Hallmark cards for a living.
Once I focused on Alice, the scene went great, just like the last time we’d rehearsed it. I knew it went great by the way Alice was looking at me at the end. The look was strikingly similar to the look she gave me when she wanted to make out.
It was an incredible look.
I would write a song about that look. And I don’t write songs.
I didn’t hear any snickering at the end and when we turned toward Mr. Brenner in the audience, he was beaming at us.
“Great work, team.”
He always called us ‘team,’ which I got a kick out of. But then his face fell and he gave a sigh as he sank into one of the front row seats. The rest of the cast and crew came out from backstage and we were all gathered around looking down at him.
He was clearly going to make an announcement.
“I had a word with Hayley today,” he said.
Oh man. We all knew what was coming but the stares and whispers were uncalled for. It had been a week, people. Me and Hayley and Alice…it was old news.
Mr. Brenner’s mouth thinned into a straight line. “Unfortunately she doesn’t believe she’ll be well enough to perform the role of Gwendolyn.”
The entire cast broke into whispers and moans of despair.
I kid you not, moans of despair.
I mean, I knew Hayley was considered a good actress, but it wasn’t like she was the only female in our school who could do it. There were probably some even better. I mean, Hayley couldn’t be any better than Alice.
Mr. Brenner looked to Alice. “I’m going to need you to post audition times so we can recast the role.” He turned to the rest of the cast, his gaze focusing on the female ensemble members—the girls who’d auditioned for lead roles and hadn’t gotten them.
I knew what was coming. He was going to open up the auditions all over, start from scratch. I looked to Alice—sweet, quiet, watching everything from the sidelines Alice.
Okay, maybe more like snarky, quiet, judging everyone from the sidelines Alice.
Honestly she went both ways. She was complicated like that.
But complicated or not, shy or not—how was I the only one to see what was right in front of our faces?
“Alice can do it.”
All eyes turned to me. Alice stared at me with these big blue eyes as if I’d just suggested that we perform a human sacrifice instead of holding auditions.
“What?” Her voice was a whisper as everyone around her started to talk at once.
Everyone loved the idea, even the ensemble girls who would have had a shot at a lead role. I heard more than one person comment on how great she was at the role in rehearsals, how much sense it made since she was pretty much off script after filling in for Hayley for so long.
It really did make sense.
But apparently Alice was the only one who did not see that.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No way.”
She tucked her head down and started to head out of the auditorium. I gave Brenner a pleading look. “Let me talk to her.”
He nodded, totally trying to hide a smile and failing. Mr. Brenner was kind of a cool guy…for a teacher.
I caught up with her in the lobby and she spun around to face me, her face a frightening shade of pale. “What was that?”
I stopped short. “What was what?”
Yup. Playing dumb seemed like the best bet.
She frowned, placing her hands on her hips. I knew better than to comment on how cute she looked when she was pissed. Still…she was so cute. I just wanted to put her in my pocket.
“Why would you do that?” she demanded. “I don’t like the spotlight, you know that.”
I stared at her for a second. “What happened to all that talk about doing it for the team?” I pointed to myself, torn between amusement and frustration. “I didn’t want to do this either, remember?”
“You love the spotlight.” She made it sound like a crime.
“I do love the spotlight.” I heard the defensiveness in my voice and I hated it. But this was getting dangerously close to our old battleground, the reason we’d stopped being friends in the first place.
I’d embraced popularity. Hell, I’d sought it out and I wasn’t ashamed of that. But Alice had made it seem like by being popular I was selling out everything I’d been before.
She’d accused me of selling her out when I’d tried to bring her along with me, asking her to go to a party with me or sit at a different lunch table.
That was years ago. We’d both changed since then. Except…at this particular moment, I wasn’t so sure we had. I could feel the old argument lying in wait, ready to strike.
The air between us was charged, and it was clear this wasn’t just a
fight about me nominating her for the lead role in a play. Past fights echoed in the silence. There were also unasked questions lying in wait—like, how exactly is this supposed to work between us if we’re still so fundamentally different?
I needed to diffuse this, because the fact was, if I had to be in this play—and there was no backing out now—I wanted to do it with her. For the first time in a long time, we had something in common. Something we could do together…aside from kissing. I mean, sure I would love to spend all of our time together kissing, but this play, being on the same team for once, living in the same world, at least part of the time…it was good. It felt right.
I hadn’t realized how badly I’d missed my best friend until I had her back again.
I took a step closer and softened my voice. “I do love being in the spotlight,” I repeated, but this time without the defensive edge. “But not when I look like an idiot.”
I could see the effort it took for her not to crack a joke at my expense. Her lips were twitching as she restrained herself. In her defense, I’d set her up perfectly.
I smiled down at her. “I think we both know I look like an idiot on that stage.”
She straightened, her lips turning down mutinously. “You don’t anymore.”
“Thanks to you,” I added.
She shrugged but I could tell she liked the compliment.
I took another step closer so we were very nearly touching. “I’m in this play because of you, Alice.”
She tilted her head back to see me better. “You auditioned for Hayley,” she said, though her tone lacked any bitterness. “Don’t try to rewrite history.”
“I auditioned for Hayley,” I agreed. “But I stuck around for you.”
Her gaze softened and I saw some of her earlier anger fade as she reached out and grabbed my T-shirt. “That was awfully sweet.”
I gave her a cocky grin. “I’m a sweet guy.”
Her answering smile made my heart stop with its perfection. “You’re also modest.”
“To a fault,” I added. I wrapped my arms around her and dropped a kiss on her nose, soaking in her familiar scent and the softness of her body pressed against mine. I moved my head back so I could see her. “Take the part or don’t take the part,” I said. “But don’t turn it down for the wrong reasons.”
A Whole New League (Briarwood High Book 2) Page 10
