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The Perfect Guy (Books We Love Young Adult Romance) Page 7
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Page 7
"Terrific." Mom squealed as she gave me a quick hug.
"Sounds promising." Bill paused. Then, "It should be interesting having you in class next year."
***
"Okay," Bill said. "Take five, everybody."
I jumped back to the present.
Josh grabbed my hand.
"Josh, what are you doing?"
"He said to ‘take five.’ I figured he meant fingers."
"You know he meant to take a break. Come on, I want to catch up with the others." I spotted Celeste and Pres out by the drinking fountain. They were the only "others" I was interested in.
"Pres, you’re perfect in the part of James Peck." Alicia appeared out of nowhere. She batted her big gray eyes at him. "I’m thrilled to be understudy for the role of Alta. I hope we at least get to rehearse some scenes together."
I’d thought maybe Alicia was interested in Josh, but now it looked as if she was setting her sights on Pres.
"Great rehearsal." I grabbed Pres by the arm and led him toward a bench and away from Alicia.
Celeste plopped down on the bench next to me. "Whew, this is more work than I thought."
"If all the rehearsals are going to be this intense," Pres said, "I’m going to be wiped out by the night of the play."
"Me too." Celeste leaned across me to agree with Pres. "Your dad said we’d have to work hard to be ready in time. At least he’s scheduling rehearsals for evenings and Saturdays so people on the baseball and softball teams don’t have any conflicts."
"I wonder why he thought to do that?" Josh clapped a hand on Pres’s shoulder. "Hey, move over, Celeste, so there’s room for me." He gave his sister a gentle shove and squeezed between her and me.
I caught Alicia eyeing the situation. I was in a prime seat, situated between two of the cutest guys in the school. Alicia would die to trade places. Well, fat chance.
I turned on what I hoped was my most charming smile and said to Pres in a voice loud enough for Alicia to hear, "You’re just as perfect in the role of Captain Peck as I thought you’d be."
"It helps that the playwright had me in mind for the part." Pres reached up and mussed my hair.
Before I could return the playful gesture Bill was in the doorway, clapping his hands to signal that the break was over. Instead of lovingly running my fingers through Pres’s hair I was running down the aisle trying to catch up with Pres and Celeste who were halfway to the stage, their heads almost touching as they read their lines to each other to warm up. For once I found myself wishing I had the nerve to perform in front of an audience.
"Wait up." Josh hooked his arm through mine. "No hurry. We don’t have any scenes to worry about."
"I have to be ready when the director is," I said, although I wasn’t sure why. So far all I’d done was sit and listen and wonder what Bill had in mind for me to do.
When things got started I tried to follow along with the script, but my thoughts kept wandering to the scene in the hallway when Pres had mussed my hair. I’d always watched with envy the couples at school who held hands and whispered in each other’s ears.
Suddenly I realized I’d lost my place in the play. "Psst, Josh," I whispered. "Where are we?"
"In the front row of Sandy Cove High Theater," Josh said.
I let out an irritated sigh.
He added, "Right here, top of page nineteen."
Pres and Celeste were doing the scene where Alta, who has mixed feelings about the Revolution, tries to talk James out of fighting for the American side. Celeste was not giving it the proper reading. There was fear in her voice, and confusion, but a touch of indignation was needed too.
I wondered how Bill would react if I interrupted the scene to offer my criticism. After all, he had made me assistant director, and surely he expected me to do something besides sit and follow the script.
I took a deep breath, tiptoed over to stand just behind him, and cleared my throat. When that didn’t get his attention I whispered his name.
Bill turned around. I felt myself shrivel under his penetrating gaze.
"Well," he said. "What is it?"
"Um, I ... that is, uh ...." I bit my lip and forced myself to calm down. I decided not to mess around. "Alta needs to sound a bit indignant in this scene."
"Indignant?" Bill raised an eyebrow.
"Yes."
"All right. We’ll try it that way once." He called Pres and Celeste over to discuss it. I sat down.
"What was the big discussion all about?" Josh asked.
"Shush," I said. "Listen and maybe you’ll find out."
Pres and Celeste started the scene again. Celeste had just the right tone in her voice. I thought I saw Bill nodding approvingly at the slight, but definitely important, change in her approach.
"Good work," Bill said when the scene was finished. "That’s all for tonight."
If I was expecting some words of praise from Bill, I’d better guess again. He simply hurried off, urging everyone to be ready to leave before he closed up the school. Before I had time to feel too awkward about standing around waiting for compliments that weren’t going to come, Josh tapped me on the shoulder.
"I don’t know what you said to the director, but I noticed the scene had much more impact in the last reading."
"Thanks," I said, pleased that Josh, at least, acknowledged my contribution. "Well, I’ve got to get my things from the girls' dressing room."
"Okay," Josh said. "I’ll meet you at the car."
Celeste was already in the dressing room putting on her sweater when I got there. Alicia Johnson sat at a dressing table, combing her shiny black hair and admiring herself in the lighted mirror. She stopped combing when she saw me.
"I love being involved in the play," she said. "I know I’m going to have a great time working on it." She dropped her comb in her purse and headed out the door. "See you later."
Celeste waited until Alicia was out of earshot and then said, "I’m not sure I can take Alicia waiting in the wings all the time. It’s like lying on the desert sand with a vulture circling overhead."
"I know. It’s so obvious she’s crushing on Pres too. Thank goodness she’s only your understudy. I hate to think what she’d do if she’d gotten the part. Don’t you dare get sick. I don’t want her playing opposite Pres, even in rehearsals."
"Don’t worry. I’m enjoying this part too much to hand it over to Alicia," Celeste said. "Well, we’d better hurry if we’re going to catch a ride with your dad."
"Yes. He doesn’t like to be kept waiting."
When we got outside I could see three people milling around Bill’s car. It was Pres, Josh, and—oh, no!—Alicia. What was she doing there?
"Oh, Pres." Alicia toyed with the top button on Pres’s shirt. "Thanks for giving me a ride home."
"Just what we need," I murmured to Celeste, who nodded her agreement.
"Sorry you had to wait," Bill said. "I wanted to make sure the school was all locked up."
In the scramble to get in the car, Alicia tried to hop in the back seat with Pres and Josh, when Celeste elbowed her way in.
"Josh and I have to get out together, so I’ll sit in back."
Celeste to the rescue, I thought. If I couldn’t sit with Pres myself, at least Alicia wasn’t cozying up to him either.
There was no opportunity for conversation on the way home, since Alicia hogged the airwaves with a monologue.
"I’m so excited to be part of the play. Isn’t it going to be the most fun ever? I have all my lines memorized already."
I heard Celeste moan when Alicia mentioned learning her lines. I thought I saw Bill grit his teeth, and I wondered if he made Alicia an understudy because that was where she’d have the least influence on the production.
Finally, but not soon enough for me, we arrived at Alicia’s house, which was, unfortunately, right on our way home. Undoubtedly she had not bummed her last ride.
"You can just stop in front," Alicia cooed as Bill pulled over to the curb. "No
need to pull into the driveway." Before she closed the car door she leaned back in. "Thanks for the ride, Mr. Nelsen. Good night, Pres, Josh. Everybody." She closed the door then, and, with a dainty wave of her fingers, sauntered to her front door. She turned and waved again before she went inside.
I was surprised she didn’t blow kisses.
When Bill dropped off Josh and Celeste there was a round of good-byes that sounded like the end of The Waltons on all those reruns. I was poised to slide over to make room for Pres, but he hopped into the back seat again before I even had time to suggest he sit in front.
So I closed my eyes and took stock of the evening. I’d had plenty of opportunity to watch Pres at rehearsal, but not much time to interact with him. Maybe I’d made a mistake creating a role so perfectly suited to him. If he’d been working on, say, props or scenery I’d have a lot more contact with him.
Then again, I’d written the role for him because I knew he enjoyed acting so much and I’d wanted to do something that would please him. It was good to see Pres bring to life a great character such as James Peck. Captain Peck had been a real person, after all, a genuine Sandy Cove hero. I’d merely tailored the part to fit Pres’s talents.
So, I had no regrets about the play. Doing something that made Pres happy made me happy. If, I mean when, Pres realized that I could make him happy in other ways as well, my efforts would be doubly worthwhile.
When I got home, I called Celeste. "Hi, it’s me."
"Hi. Is this a news bulletin about Alicia?"
"No, nothing new there. I just don’t get to talk to you privately lately."
"True. You’ve probably seen more of Josh than me, since you’ve been working on the play together. Now I’m so busy learning my lines. What’s up?"
"I’ve been thinking. Things should go as planned and soon Pres will see me as more than a stepsister. Then he’ll invite me to the graduation party and make it plain that he wants to continue to be a couple even after he goes off to Yale."
"What makes you think that? Did you get hit on the head with a crystal ball or something?"
"Ha-ha! I just feel it in my bones."
"Well, take it easy. Don’t count your chickens or whatever. I-I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed."
"Oh, Celeste. Don’t worry. My only real concern will be to keep an eye on Alicia Johnson."
Chapter Eleven
"Going to the baseball game Thursday?" Celeste asked as she slid into the seat next to me at lunch.
"I don’t know." I unwrapped my tuna salad sandwich. "Is there something special about this particular game?"
"I know you’ve been wrapped up in the play," Celeste said, "but I didn’t know you were so far gone. Do you realize the guys could win the Shoreline League championship if they beat Saybrook this Thursday? Pres is on the team. He must have mentioned it, at least in passing."
"You know Pres would never brag about himself," I said, though I did think it a bit strange that I hadn’t heard him say anything about it. Josh hadn’t said anything either, but he was almost as possessed with obtaining the right props as I was with the play in general. "I guess I lost track of what game was when. Of course I’ll go."
"Good. You can get there early and save a seat for me. I have a dentist appointment right after school."
"How did you manage to schedule a dentist appointment for such an important day?"
"I made it over a month ago." Celeste laughed. "I guess I shouldn’t be so quick to accuse you of not know what’s going on."
***
After school on the day of the game I swam through the sea of students struggling to get out of the building, and slithered my way to a back exit where there was a path to the baseball field. By the time I got there the bleachers were already filling with fans.
How could I have almost overlooked such an important occasion involving Pres, I thought as I elbowed my way past two easily intimidated freshmen boys. Guilt pricked at me as I fought my way to two seats at the end of the row. I sat down and planted my books next to me to save a place for Celeste.
"I hear there’s a major league scout here today," said a male voice in back of me.
"He must be here to look over Josh Sullivan," said a female voice.
"Look, there’s Josh!" exclaimed another female voice. He’s so good looking!"
"You’re telling me?"
"What I would give to go out with him."
A babble of voices washed over me. An occasional "hunk" or "wow" caught my ear.
I watched Josh swing a weighted bat, his muscles contracting with the graceful motion. He did look awfully handsome in his uniform.
Just then Josh saw me. He tipped his cap. I waved, blew him a kiss, and shouted, "Good luck."
I felt special then, set apart, as I absorbed the murmured oohs and ahhs from the girls around me who nudged one another and pointed in my direction.
"Don’t Pres and Josh look handsome in their uniforms?" Celeste plopped down next to me.
"Oh ... yes." I blinked. Good grief, I hadn’t even been thinking about Pres. I looked around the field and saw him standing not far from Josh. "I’m dying of thirst," I said. "I’m going to get something from the snack bar. Want anything?"
"I’ll have a root beer." Celeste started to dig through her purse for money.
"My treat," I said.
If I waited for Celeste to hunt through everything in her purse, three innings would go by. I barely heard her say thanks as I scrambled down the bleachers and headed toward the field. I looked around for Pres, but now he was involved in what looked like an intense discussion with the coach. I decided to talk to Josh in the meantime, hoping Pres would be available soon.
"Hi, Josh." I waved to him.
"Hi." Josh trotted over. "What’s up?" He flashed his dimpled smile.
"I just wanted to wish you luck in person," I said, remembering I’d already blown a good-luck kiss his way.
"Just what I need for inspiration."
Before I knew what was happening, Josh grabbed me, bent me back, and planted a long, dramatic kiss full on my mouth.
"Sullivan!" the coach roared.
Josh stood me upright and grinned as the crowd whistled and cheered. "That ought to be good for a home run, at least," he said, giving me a quick hug before running over to the purple-faced coach, who stood with his hands on his hips.
Pres scuffed the ground, trying not laugh, while Josh maintained an innocent, I-don’t-know-what-came-over-me look that eventually pacified the coach.
My heart raced and I felt my cheeks turn pink and hot. I could barely catch my breath. I was so embarrassed. But I felt, I don't know, proud, too, that Josh had chosen me for a good-luck kiss. Slightly confused, I headed toward the snack bar when I smacked into a man tapping on a notepad as he walked.
"Excuse me." I definitely was embarrassed now.
The man took my hand to steady me after the impact. "Don’t worry," he said. "It would take more than that to damage an overgrown bruiser like me."
When I recovered enough to get a good look at him I realized he was probably right. The shadow he cast engulfed me. He looked as though he could bench-press a tractor.
I shook the over-sized hand that clasped mine. "I’m Rebecca Collins," I said. "Are you new to Sandy Cove?"
"Oh, I don’t live here. I’m Brady Bailey, a scout for a major league baseball team. I’m here to look over Josh Sullivan, who obviously is a friend of yours from the scene I just witnessed."
"Oh, th-that was for good luck," I stammered. "Josh is just a friend. More like a brother, actually." It would have been kind of nice to say I’m Josh’s girlfriend. But despite the envy that buzzed my way, he really was, after all, just a good friend.
"That’s good," said Mr. Bailey, clapping his heavy hand on my shoulder. "I’d like to round him up and encourage him to attend one of the high school tryouts we’re having up in Middletown. Maybe we could send him to our minor league team in Oregon, if he’s as good as some people
say he is."
"Oregon," I said. "That’s so far away." A continent away, in fact. Alarm crept over me. I shivered. I’d never see Josh if he went to Oregon. What about his plans to go to college?
"Now, don’t you worry." Brady Bailey gave me a reassuring smile. "If he makes the majors, sometimes he’ll play right in New York."
"I’m not worried," I said. "It’d be great. Josh has always wanted to play major league baseball."
It would be great. It was what Josh wanted. So why should I concern myself that he might have to go off to Oregon, or that he wouldn’t attend college? Baseball was his dream. I shouldn’t be upset, I should be happy for him.
"I see the game is about to start." Mr. Bailey pumped my hand. "Nice meeting you, Rebecca Collins."
"Nice meeting you, Mr. Bailey."
When I heard the umpire yell, "Play ball," I remembered that I’d promised to get Celeste a soda at the snack bar.
By the time I got back to my seat, it was the bottom half of the first inning. Saybrook had gotten a hit, but they hadn’t scored.
"There you are," Celeste exclaimed as she took her root beer. "You were an amazing sight. Half the girls here were seriously green with envy."
"What?" I feigned ignorance. "Oh, you mean Josh. Ha-ha. You know how he likes to kid around."
"It didn’t look as though he was kidding to me," said a voice in back of me.
I turned around to see Alicia Johnson smiling mischievously.
"Alicia," I said, hoping I came across as indifferent, "it meant nothing more than if he’d kissed Celeste."
Celeste started to say something, but the cheering of the crowd drowned her out. Timmy West, Sandy Cove’s smallest player, had just hit a ground ball to the outfield and stretched what would have been a single into a double with his quick base running. The crowd grew edgy with anticipation. But after the next batter walked, the inning ended on a double play.
The game then turned into a pitcher’s duel.
"I’m worried, Celeste," I said. "Brady Bailey isn’t seeing Josh at his best."
"Josh will come through," Celeste reassured me.