Unmaking Hunter Kennedy (30 page)

24: drama class just got better

VERE

Seventh period. Last class of the day.

Vere checked her phone for the time. Ten minutes early.

Drama class, followed by Drama Club.

Mrs. VanDeWirth, followed by more Mrs. VanDeWirth.

Vere’s all-time favorite topic, combined with her most favorite teacher.

Pure perfection.

This year, Vere meant to go for stage director, or lighting master. As an upperclassman, she’d have a better chance this year at getting some real responsibilities back stage.

Vere pulled open the auditorium doors. She loved how it smelled in here, some dust, some must, and all the rest pure magic. This part of Palmer Divide High had been around since 1967. The theater still boasted the original red velvet seats, now crushed and worn into a faded pink color. They were still sturdy with metal backs and bottoms and Vere loved how the crunchy springs in the seats sounded when you first sat in them.

The floors were concrete except for the stage which was made up of a light-colored pine. Today, the huge, heavy red curtains hung open, exposing the stage that now held a ton of students all waiting for class to start. Why had she thought she would be the only one who would want to come in here early?

The school funding had cut Mrs. VanDeWirth’s hours back. To compensate, they’d combined the junior and senior drama classes into one larger class. Because of the size, they’d been instructed to meet here instead of in Mrs. VanDeWirth’s classroom.

Vere’s confidence wavered when she saw how many people were sitting cross-legged or sprawled around on the stage floor. How would she stand out in a class this size?

Vere slipped silently into the back edge of the crowd and sat on the floor. There had to be at least forty people here already with more trailing in through the side doors.

Her stomach growled. She rummaged in her backpack, searching for snacks.

“Hey, Vere.”

A familiar low baritone rumbled at her from above. She startled, pulled her head out of her backpack, and checked her bun as she struggled to swallow the whole pretzel stick she’d just shoved into her mouth.

She twisted and looked up. Way, way up. Her gaze traveled past a pair of tanned legs in sun-faded, khaki shorts. Then it traversed an impossibly white shirt and a perfectly sculpted collarbone and chin. Her gaze had made it all the way to a pair of perfect green eyes with midnight black lashes.

Then she died.

“Uh. Hey, Curtis,” she gasped, way too quickly.

The pretzel stick was now suffocating the back of her throat with dry dust and stinging salt.

“It took me awhile to find you in this crowd,” he said. “Should have known to check the dark corners of the room first.” He smiled.

“Yeah. Corners.” She took a deep breath and worked to swallow the lump that now blocked her pretzel from going down. “Are you lost? This is really far from the gym,” she said, finally.

Her only solace was that her head wasn’t stuck in a shirt this time. She wiped her mouth, wondering if she’d blown any food bits at him on accident.

“Don’t I know it.” Curtis Wishford grinned down, crossing his arms. A move that fully showed off his nice biceps.

His grinning, dimpled perfect face threatened to make Vere die all over again. (If that was possible when she was already dead.)

Dead and gaping at him like an idiot.

Help. Help. Someone help me think of something perfect to say.

Crickets. Crickets. Crickets.

Someone help. I’ve been hypnotized. By crickets!

Curtis’s jaw moved steadily as he chomped on a piece of gum as though he had his own rhythm.

Bright, neon-yellow gum.

It bounced around his mouth, two chews to the right, one to the left and back. Crack. Snap. And chew.

Great. Who stared at gum? Dead people. That’s who.

“Um. Charlie never comes in here so...”

“I’m not looking for Charlie. Mind if I sit?”

Her brows went so high she felt them almost shoot off the top of her forehead. But she managed a nod.

He dropped a notebook next to her backpack and sat. As in right next to her.

“I signed up for this class on a whim,” he said.

“You did?”

Was this really happening? Could she handle this?

Obviously NOT.

Come on Vere.

You practiced all weekend. You’ve got it.

She took a deep breath and kicked her brain into gear. “You’ll like it. I love this class.” He was looking straight into her eyes but she felt too ill to hold his gaze, so she glanced away and pointed at the audience seats. “I love this auditorium, and Mrs. VanDeWirth.”

OMG. I think I quake-yodeled that entire sentence. Please don’t let him say anything. Please....

“I know you do.” He stretched his legs out and leaned back.

“You do?” she asked, completely distracted by the fact that Curtis Wishford smelled like spicy, warm sweat. He must have just worked out. He was always working out or about to work out.

It wasn’t a bad smell. But maybe it wasn’t a great smell either.

Ha. Wait till I tell Jenna this one.

“Yeah. You talk about drama all the time when I’m over for dinners and stuff.”

She gaped at his long muscular legs stretched out in front of both of them. Dark hair covered his calves and what she could see of his thighs.

Vere had her legs tucked crisscross under her long skirt. Her skinny smooth legs would look weird next to his bumped and bruised football-huge shins, wouldn’t they? Curtis Wishford always seemed so comfortable in his own body. How could she get some of his confidence to rub off on her?

Keep talking to him. You can do this.

“So...do you know what else I like?” She managed and shocked even herself with her next move: she smiled.

“I’m hoping I do.” He smiled back, with what looked like a calm, interested and flirty smile!

Was this conversation working so well because the stage lights were only half up? Maybe it was the long weekend of practice she’d had with Charlie and Dustin, or maybe, she really was truly dead.

Either way, Vere was in control of herself in front of Curtis for the first time in years ! She couldn’t believe it.

She hadn’t even started to blush.

Oh, thank you, Dustin McHugh!

Curtis went on, “I signed up for Drama because Charlie told me it would be the best place to track you down once a day so we could hang out.”

“What?” So much for control.

Her cheeks went from zero to two billion on the pink tracker in less than one second. That had to be a record.

“You heard me. I was thinking we could hang out a bit.”

She checked her bun again and focused on getting air. She placed her hands flat on the stage floor and wondered if the vortex created by her empty lungs would eventually suck her through the stage and into the orchestra pit below.

Breathe, Vere, breathe. Don’t put him on a pedestal.

“What do you mean by hang out, exactly?” she squeaked.

Thankfully, Curtis seemed not to notice her upset. He’d been tracing a small knot in the wood with his finger the whole time and hadn’t looked up.

Wait. Did Curtis seem a little nervous?

“I mean, I don’t know. I’ve just had the urge to hang out with you. I tried to mention it last week, but Howie messed up my mojo-magic. I’m so busy after school with football, and you’re so...so shy around me.” Curtis paused his hand and looked up. Looked up and right at her!

Good God. Why do you have to be so gorgeous?

Vere closed her mouth fast because it had opened really far by then.

He ran his hand through his hair. “I was hoping you’d like the idea. Do you mind?”

“Is Charlie putting you up to this or something?” She shot him a suspicious frown. She would have to play this off as funny until she could get a handle on his level of seriousness. “I just want you to know, Charlie’s flat broke so whatever he offered you, he has to pay me two hundred bucks first.”

Curtis laughed. “No one’s behind this but me. Charlie only gave me his blessing, if that counts. I kind of wish I’d had the courage to do this last year. Really. I’ve had a crush on you for a long time.”

Vere made sure her voice was dry and over-skeptical. “Really?” She raised her eyebrows and double crinkled her forehead while she leveled him with her ‘don’t-mess-with-me’ stare.

“You’re blushing, Vere, so either you like the idea, or you hate it. Which is it?”

Vere risked a longer look into Curtis’s eyes.

Truly, this did not appear to be a joke.

Vere. Say something!

Can’t. Crickets are back.

When her silence stretched into an obvious problem, Curtis glanced down and fiddled with the edge of his notebook. “If you aren’t into it, into me I mean, I’m dropping this class. No biggie.”

“No!” she gasped, his words bringing her out of it. “I like the idea! I mean—it’s good...a great idea. And cool. It will be really cool, you know...to just hang out once a day...in here. It seems like a safe place to do that. Not like I need to be safe—from you.”

He laughed, his eyes smiling warmly at her. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, once I stake my claim,
my
girls are never safe.” He gave her a strange sideways look as if he might regret what he’d said to her, or regret what she’d said.

Did I hear that right? What did he mean by ‘my girls’? And why the plural?

Stop. Stop over thinking this moment.

You’ve waited for this for so long. Don’t over analyze.

And stop gawking at him like he’s the Statue of Liberty and you just got off a boat to America.

She willed his lips to move, to say anything, to rescue her. When they didn’t, she couldn’t stop her mouth from motoring-on a second time. “As for me being into you, well, you’d have to be in a coma or blind to not notice that I’ve had a crush right back at you. And since I was six. You knew that.”

His eyes opened with his own surprise. “Well...I...wasn’t sure and...”

She didn’t let him finish. “Heck, everyone knows that. What I mean is—if I haven’t said it right or clearly—then officially—
yes
. It’s a great idea. I’d like...I’d love the chance to know you better. Here...in here and...everywhere...you know?”

Why in the world did you just admit to all that?

In here and EVERYWHERE?

Let’s hope HE doesn’t overanalyze that. UGH.

AWKWARD. AWKWARD. AWKWARD.

Her recall had returned, and she replayed the whole scene fast-forward in her mind.

Ugh.

Might have been way less obvious to just to rip out your heart.

Stick it on a plate.

How about shove in a couple of tacks and pin it under his shoe? This guy now has full power to crush you.

She glanced up through her lashes. He was simply blinking at her and chewing his yellow gum. Curtis swallowed hard, and brought his hand up to stroke his chin. His sexy, hot ‘guy thinking pose’ all but did her in. His gaze searched her face, and she acted as if she didn’t notice.

Don’t look up again. Just don’t. But did he swallow that gum?

She desperately wanted to fidget or better, run.

Somehow she held still. If Curtis was not going to respond to what she’d said, well, she wasn’t going to say another word. Her fire engine red, all over body blush was doing a fine job at screaming her shame.

She pretended to stare even harder at her lap but her gaze traveled from his knee to his perfectly muscled football thigh. How could she not look that over? It was twice as wide as hers and had never been this close to her before.

Even his knees were gorgeous.

Vere forced her gaze away and faked interest in her own knees. Vere shut her eyes for a quick second and opened them, but it didn’t help. Curtis still hadn’t said anything and most probably he wasn’t going to say anything.

The silence had stretched to the point that there was no way she would recover from this moment.

Ever. Ever. Ever.

And then, the most amazing thing happened.

Curtis Wishford, senior star quarterback, and the most perfect of all guys, reached out and turned her chin toward him.

That was when everyone and everything in the entire auditorium just disappeared. The noise, the students milling about, Mrs. VanDeWirth down stage, all of it faded to black. She and Curtis became the only two people sitting center stage.

She looked right into his beautiful green eyes and she felt pretty much just fine. No body shakes. No fisted hands waiting to knock him flat, and her heated cheeks started to cool!

Let the record show, this is happening in front of everyone!

Both of us are still conscious, and there is zero blood. Also, zero emergency vehicles have been called to this moment! YAY!

He smiled and tweaked her nose. “You said it perfectly, and it was just what I wanted to hear. Since you were so honest, I’ll lay it all out on the line. Me, taking drama, is my lame attempt to let you know the same. I’ve been into you all along, too. And well before you knocked me out.”

“You did? You have? You are? Really?” She rubbed her nose, he’d pulled it pretty hard. How embarrassing. This had to be some kind of hallucination.

He nodded, his expression still holding at sincere. He tapped the tip of her nose a second time with his most perfect, oversized finger. “We can start slow. Friends. Hanging out. No pressure.”

“Perfect. Slow. Slow is perfect.”

Like you!

“I’ll need you to show me the ropes in this class. I’m also hoping you can keep a secret for me.”

“I keep lots of secrets. I’m good at it.” Vere swallowed and managed a half smile, thinking suddenly of Dustin.

He gave her his all-American grin and winked. “Really. Then I’ll trade one of my secrets for one of yours.”

“Maybe. You first,” she challenged, and WINKED BACK!

OMG. This is flirting.

This is ME flirting with Curtis Wishford.