“Stack the chairs?”
“Got it.”
When that’s done, I set the ghost light and close the doors behind us. Dr. L is in front of her office, the door closed behind her and her scarf wound around her face, stuck talking with Cam. I give her a little wave, but she doesn’t notice.
“Hey,” Liam asks. “You want to help me study lines? This is way harder than the musical.”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”
“Come on. I bet you already have the whole play memorized.”
I don’t. Not yet, at least.
“Please?”
But helping him means spending time with him. And I can’t quite stop myself.
“Okay.”
***
Every day after rehearsal, Liam drives his crappy car to TJ’s, where he insists on paying for my tea with the spending money his dad keeps giving him out ofguiltlove.
Which means every day, when Jasmine asks me if I need a ride, I tell her I’m getting one from Bowie. Or from one of the cast members. Or taking the activities bus, which generally leaves well before rehearsals are over, but she doesn’t seem to notice the discrepancy.
And then Liam and I sit together at the little corner table that’s somehow become our usual spot over the last two weeks.
He cups his hands around his mocha to keep them warm—the polar vortex is so bad, even he’s cold—while I recite Orsino’s lines.
“Come, boy, with me; my thoughts—”
But I’m cut off when the back door opens again, letting in a burst of air so frigid my spine seizes and my jaw clenches shut.
“Come on,” Liam signs. “Sit here. You’re freezing.”
“I’m fine.” Unfortunately, my body chooses that moment to give an involuntary shudder.
“Really. The heater’s closer.” He points toward the vent in the ceiling.
“It’s easier to see you from here.”
“We’re nearly done.” He scoots his chair closer to the wall, makes room for me. “Come on.”
I sigh but finally give in, scooting my seat around to sit nextto him, but accidentally tip over my binder. When I pull it up my heart does a divebomb toward my stomach, because it’s open to a breakup list. But thankfully it’s just Jason’s.
Liam laughs. “Neck beard?”
“It was bad.” Neck Beard Jason was a year ahead of Jasmine (and Liam). In addition to the neck beard, he also had halitosis and was an overly aggressive Xbox apologist.
He sighs. “I guess you did end up making one of those for me, huh?”
“What?” My heart flutters. “Of course not.”
The lie’s out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“Really?”
I nod, keeping my lips sealed before I can say anything else.
