I make a face at Meg, passing her phone back. “That proves nothing.”
She smirks. “Yet you practically broke your neck looking for the evidence. You so have the hots for our teacher.”
“Are we going to start rehearsing soon or just spend our afternoon drooling over a robot?” Lexington quips, walking over with his hands on his hips.
“What, you don’t see the appeal?” Percy asks, throwing an arm over his shoulder.
Lexington rolls his eyes. “Of course I do. I’m not dead—the man’s gorgeous. But he also holds our fate in his hands, so I justthink we should take that into consideration. Webarelyscraped by our auditions to get into the class, you know, P.”
“Not me,” Meg notes, lifting her chin with a grin. “My parents own a few community theaters from here to Concord, though, so I guess it’s sort of baked in.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re perfect,” Lexington says, grinning. He slides out from Percy’s grip, bending down to press a dramatic, sloppy kiss to her forehead. “But some of us aren’t, so…”
He gestures toward the circle, and she laughs, nodding. “First point of order: loosening your lips and limbs.”
“You should also be properly hydrated,” I say, turning toward the door. “Anyone want something to drink?”
They decline, so I head down the hall by myself to the vending machines tucked next to an emergency exit. On my way back, plastic bottle in hand, I pause in the partially open doorway of a private study room, drawn to a stop at the sound of a familiar voice.
Sutton stands at the front of the room, surrounded by a wall of students. Most of them have jackets with a torchemblemprinted on the back, and they all seem enraptured by the discussion he’s leading.
“…once auditions have finished, we’ll only have a few short weeks to prep for the production,” he tells the students. “Volunteering is optional, but keep in mind I’m more likely to write recommendation letters for prospective internships and employment opportunities when you help out. We’ll need set designers, costume coordinators, and the like.”
There at the front, a familiar blond ponytail sways. “What about refreshments and lighting crews?”
“I’ll let you handle refreshments this time, Sabrina,” Sutton tells her. “The bloody-heart cookies you made forMacbethwere inspired and went over really well with the cast. I trust your baking ability.”
Sabrina. Jesus, does she ever let the man breathe?
Though I guess I can’t really talk.
Even that first night at Lethe’s, there was this fine tether drawing me to him. As soon as I spotted him at the bar, I couldn’t look away.
It was as though I unconsciously thought that doing so would cause him to vanish, like water vapor into the air.
The sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. A temptation so strong that resistance was instantly pointless, even when he was rejecting me.
My mind flickers to Quincy’s revelation about his sister, and I feel that familiar twinge in my chest.
Here I’ve been treating his employment as some throwaway thing, selfishly chasing my own gratification because he was lying about what he wanted. But what if the job is an excuse for him elsewhere?
Leaning on the doorframe, I lift my chin, scouring the heads of the students as they disperse, a few arguing about some canned-food drive. The room becomes obscured, and I search for the mess of dark brown hair or his sweater?—
“Visio Aternae meetings are private.”
26
ELLE
Sutton’s voiceis suddenly in my ear, nearly yanking a scream from my chest. I whirl around, my breath scattering in my throat as he moves in, planting his arm next to me.
He hovers close, our lips centimeters apart, and a flash from the day I begged him to kiss me in his apartment makes my stomach flutter.
With a quick tug, he pulls the door shut and backs up several steps.
I blink, glancing at his arm, which was just by my side and now rests at his. His face isn’t flushed, and his eyes aren’t that liquid green they only seem to become when we’re doing things we shouldn’t.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on girls,” I snap, pointing at him. “It’s creepy.”
