“There you are,” Jasmine says.
“Hey,” Liam says. “You coming to the cast party?”
I snort. “Of course not.”
“Jackson never goes to those,” Jasmine says. “He somethingsomething.”
“I’m not really feeling it either,” Liam says.
“But we have to go! All the other couples will be there.”
Including Philip and Cam, no doubt. Another reason to avoid it.
Jasmine twines her arm through Liam’s and leans in to kiss his reddening cheek.
“All right,” he finally says. “Can you give me and Jackson a second before we go?”
“Sure. Meet you outside?”
“Thanks.”
Jasmine heads out, and then it’s just Liam and me and the awkwardness swimming between us.
He tucks his roses under his armpit to free up his hands. “You’re really not coming?” he signs. He’s up to full sentences now, which is pretty impressive, though he still uses English syntax sometimes.
“To the cast party? No way.” I say it aloud and sign it too.
“Why?”
“I wasn’t invited.”
It’s not that big a deal. It’s not like I wanted to go. It’ll just be a bunch of sweaty out-of-control actorsgoofing off hooking upmaking asses of themselves.
“But you’re the stage manager.”
“Bowie and I always go to Perkins.”
“Oh.” He presses his lips together into this weird half smile. “Did they get you the roses?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Don’t let them hear you say that.”
Liam laughs, but then the smile slides off his face again. He steps closer.
“Thank you. For earlier.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I...”
He stares at his hands, like he’s searching for the right signs.
“You can say it aloud if that’s easier,” I tell him.
But he shakes his head and pulls out his phone.
