I turn away to hide my smile. The image comes back to me, of pre-teen Zayne in his cowboy outfit, matching his younger brother. The memory of it makes warmth expand inside my chest. But at the same time, it makes me sad. Because while this entire evening has been, let’s face it—amazing—I can’t help but acknowledge that it’s really nothing more than a distraction, from buckling down and running lines, and inevitably, the play.
Which Mom claims she will be here to see.
“Sorry about earlier,” I whisper. “I know I seemed distracted. And that’s because I was.”
His voice is soft beside me. “What’s on your mind?”
“My mom says she’s coming home to see the play.”
“Oh.” Zayne’s eyebrows narrow. “But that’s a good thing, right?”
“I don’t know. Part of me thinks she’s not really going to show up. What if I let myself get excited and then she doesn’t come? I’ll be…” I try to search for the right word. “Devastated.”
“That’s true,” he says. “But if she’s set on it, then try to have faith it will work out.”
“That’s not the only problem though. What if she doescome, and I mess up on stage? In front of my mom and my dad and my brother? The entire school? I don’t know ifI’meven ready for all this.” I squeeze the poor stuffed bumblebee with agitation.
“Dot.” He nudges my shoulder with his. The gesture is innocent. Sweet. “Stop worrying. Nerves are part of the process. You think I’m confident before every performance?”
“Well, you should be,” I say. “You’re the best actor in the whole school.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Was that another compliment I just heard?”
“You know it’s true.”
“The point is,” he continues, “even I get nervous I’m going to mess up, but I just give it my best effort and try to stay positive. That’s all you can do. Besides, you’re a much better actress than you think. You’re really good, actually.”
I try to find any traces of sarcasm in his face, but there are none. “You really think so?”
He nods. “Yep. I bet you even have a shot at getting into Underwood if you keep practicing.”
Zayne Silverman himself thinks I’m really good?My entire body feels light and fuzzy as the words float around in my brain. I try to hide how flattered I am by his compliment. “How unlucky for you, since there are only two spots.”
“You mean, how unlucky forCarlton,since apparently I’m the best actor in the whole school.”
I glare at him.
“Your words, not mine,” he reminds me, holding up his hands.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. I search his face, taking comfort in the teasing confidence I find. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
When we get back to Zayne’s house, no one else is home. Zayne tells me that everyone probably went for a nature walk—as Lenny calls it. “We go on them a couple times a week,” he explains. “We let Lenny tell us all sorts of random facts about the plants and flowers we see as we walk by. Sometimes he’ll pick some and hang them in his room.”
“That sounds nice.” Picturing the passionate way Lenny would talk about that kind of stuff makes my lips quirk up.
“It’s getting late,” Zayne says. “We can pick up where we left off tomorrow.” We’re standing at his front door. He hasn’t made a move to go inside, and I haven’t made for my car yet either. It feels like there’s something left unspoken between us that needs to be addressed before the night can be deemed over. But I’m not sure what it is, and neither, apparently, is Zayne.
“Okay,” I say. My feet remain planted on his doorstep despite my brain telling them to move, so I add, “Thank you. For taking me to smash pumpkins and drink apple cider.”
His serious expression melts a little as if without his permission, cracking into something warmer. “Anytime.”
There doesn’t seem to be anything else to say, so I wave. “Bye, Zayne.”
I turn and walk to my car. As I go, I hear his voice, so soft it could be mistaken for the wind. “Bye, Dot.”
Chapter Sixteen
Zayne and I get through the whole script in two days.
