Autumn's Kiss (7 page)

“Oh yeah.” I pretend to check my phone. “Shoot. Another tweet just said he already left the area.”

“That sucks! I totally wanted to tell him about
Guys and Dolls.
” Then she laughs. “Like he'd actually remember me. I'm sure he has a million random nights with fans.”

“Oh, he totally remembers you and Ames,” I say…then immediately wish I hadn't.

“Yeah, right,” Taylor scoffs. She doesn't consider for a second that I know something; she just thinks I'm being nice. Better that way.

Taylor cruises around for fifteen minutes looking for Kyler just in case the tweet was wrong and he's still in the area…which as far as I know he never was. We're about to call Ames and tell her if she wants a ride back to school we need to do it now, when both our phones chirp. It's a text from Ames. A selfie of her and Denny. Smiling. Inside his car. No doubt on their way back to school.

Taylor's amazed. I just lean back and smile.

It's good to be a superhero.

“She is unbelievable,” I marvel to Taylor before U.S. History. It's the last class period of the day, and we're in the same section. Amalita has already texted us both that in the brief time she spent with Denny, she made such an impression that he asked her to go out with him after the game on Friday. It's an away game, so she's not cheering that night, but we'll all go and cheer on Sean…and Ames's insane powers of attraction.

“She's always been that way,” Taylor says. “She's insanely picky, but when she turns it on, she gets who she wants. It's confidence. She's amazing.”

“Maybe we could bottle it,” I say.

“If we could, I'd use it on Ryan,” she sighs. “It's brutal. We spend all this time together, and he acts like he really likes me, and he'll even put his arm around me and hold my hand…but it's not like we're together. He hasn't tried to kiss me. Not even close.”

I raise an eyebrow.

“He's not gay,” she says.

“Hey, I don't know him,” I say. “If you tell me he's straight, he's straight.”

“Straight and perfect,” she says. “Wait till you see him in the show.”

The teacher comes in and we stop talking, but then Taylor lights up and leans over. “Come to rehearsal after class! You can watch. Then you can see what I'm talking about.”

Musical theater isn't so much my thing, and watching a rehearsal when I have nothing to do with the play will probably make me feel completely out of place. Plus, I have homework to do—I should just go home after school and get it done. But Taylor looks so excited about having me there that I say yes. I also realize it could be good for my superheroing. Maybe if I'm at rehearsal, I'll see a way to help Taylor and Ryan like I helped Amalita and Denny.

The cast of
Guys and Dolls
is still using their scripts and learning their choreography—the show isn't until December. But I watch a whole run-through complete with all the stops and starts as the director gives the cast ideas and tells them where to go onstage, and a couple things become totally clear.

I get it. Ryan Darby as Sky Masterson is incredibly sexy. He's this bad-boy gambler who always has the right quip and who has this thick wall around him no girl can ever break through…until Sarah Brown, who's played by Taylor. It's impossible not to fall in love with Ryan as Sky.
I
fall in love with Ryan as Sky. Taylor's right. He's amazing. Genuinely meltworthy.

Then he steps out of character.

I don't like to stereotype. I don't. I don't believe in stereotyping. I don't like it. I don't do it. I'm not going to be like Reenzie, Jack, and J.J. and say Ryan is for-sure one-hundred-percent gay just because the second he stops being Sky he goes from intense and controlled to bouncy and theatrical. It doesn't mean he's gay when his speaking voice climbs three octaves. It is no litmus test of gayness that he can't seem to stand without draping an arm around another cast member, male or female. All I'm saying is that when you combine all that with the fact that he and Taylor have this super-intimate connection onstage and, according to Taylor, have one
off
stage and
still
aren't together in any kind of boyfriend/girlfriend way…

If it looks like a duck, swims like a duck, and quacks like a duck, in all likelihood it's a duck.

In this case, a gay duck.

Which is totally fine—I'm all for gay duckhood. It's just not ideal for my straight-duck friend who wants him.

So that's one thing that I learn at rehearsal. The other is that Taylor has a big-time secret admirer. He's sitting in the same row as me in the theater. He's cute: wire-rim glasses, short brown hair, jeans, and a plain black T-shirt. He watches everything intently, but whenever Taylor's onstage, he leans a foot closer to the stage and he jiggles his knee up and down like he's really anxious. He also takes notes the whole time, so I know he's either doing something with the show or he's more spooky stalker than admirer. I figure I should have my friend's back and learn which it is, so when the run-through ends and all the actors are getting their notes, I move over three chairs and plop down next to him.

“Hey,” I say. “Whatcha writing?”

“Me?” he asks, as if there's a whole row of people with pencils and notepads nearby instead of just him. He's genuinely asking, though, so I nod and smile.

“I do lighting,” he says. “I'm taking notes on what gels will look best on which lights.”

“Gels, like…what you put in your hair?”

He raises a hand to his head uncomfortably, like he thinks I'm insulting his hairdo.

“No,” he says. “We put colored gels—thin pieces of plastic—over the stage lights. They set the mood, bring out the actors' features…”

He goes on, but I'm not listening to his words; I'm more listening to
him.
And watching him. There's something charmingly apologetic about him. He meets my eyes, but then he darts his gaze away, over and over. And he pushes his glasses up his nose more times than he needs to. He's not entirely comfortable in his own skin, that's pretty clear, but it's sort of adorable, because he has every reason to be. He definitely knows a lot about lighting. I haven't done anything but nod and make some encouraging noises, and he's going on and on, getting really excited about the topic, like he's thrilled someone wants to know about it.

“So,” I cut him off. “How do you like the show? Taylor's really great as Sarah, right?”

He immediately blushes. “She's…she's incredible.”

I grin. “You like her?”

He rears back like he's afraid I'm teasing him, but I just keep smiling so he knows I'm on his side. Then he relaxes…but he's still blushing.

“I don't really know her. We've said maybe two words to each other.”

“Really? But you're both doing the play. All Tee talks about is this play and how incredible everyone is, and—”

Alarm in his eyes again. “ ‘Tee'? You're her friend?”

I nod. “She's a really good friend of mine. But don't freak out. I'm not going to embarrass you or anything. I just don't get it. You seem like you like her…so talk to her. She's really nice. And I bet she'd like you. You're cute. Wait a minute—how tall are you? Are you over six feet?”

“Um…six feet exactly.”

“Okay, good…and you're an upperclassman? Junior or senior?”

“I'm a senior.”

“Good! Good! Then yes, you should go after her. What's your name?”

“Leo.”

“Nice to meet you, Leo. I'm Autumn.”

Leo smiles, and I'm elated because I have found the clear answer to Taylor's problems. Why pine after a boy who may-or-may-not-be-but-probably-is impossible to get when there's a perfectly good, perfectly cute, perfectly
interested
boy right here! Yes, he's a little skittish, but he just needs some work. He's like the stray puppies my mom finds for her rescue shelter. They're nervous at first, and you have to be very gentle and patient. But when you are, after a while you're rewarded with a prize of a pet.

I chat Leo up for a bit while we wait for the actors' notes to finish. He doesn't have a lot to say beyond the topic of stage lighting, but I'm guessing that's because that's where his head goes when he's in a theater. Plus, he's kind of on the clock, I guess.

When notes are done, Taylor runs up the aisle to meet me. She's holding Ryan's hand and the two are practically skipping they're so elated after the run-through. Leo gets up to move when he sees them coming, but I tell him to stay.

“Autumn!” Taylor cries. “What did you think? Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” I say honestly. “You're incredible. And
you,
” I add to Ryan, “I mean…wow.”

For just a second Ryan becomes that smoldering bad boy. “Thanks.” He turns to Taylor and adds, “Your friend's got taste.” Then he drops the attitude and gets giddy again. “Tee, seriously? You saved me in our dance. I don't know how you led while you were following, but you totally did. If this was a performance, I'd owe you my life.”

“Whatever. I did nothing. You're brilliant. And I'm officially introducing you to Autumn. Autumn, Ryan, aka my boyfriend, Sky.”

“A boyfriend who's about to prove his worth by taking his best girl to the fabulous Aventura Mall food court,” Ryan says, then asks, “Want to join?”

“I can't. I have homework,” I say. “You guys both know Leo, right?”

“Sound guy?” Ryan asks.

“Lighting.”

They all say their hellos and then there's silence as I wait for Leo to say something charming, interesting, or in any way at all conversation-continuing.

“I gotta go” is what he comes up with. And he follows that with “See you next rehearsal.”

“Nice guy, right?” I say brightly. “Super chatty. We were having the most amazing conversation during your notes—”

“I told you,” Taylor says, “everyone with the play is incredible. It's a phenomenal group.”

“
You're
phenomenal,” Ryan corrects her. “I prefer to think of myself as more…
majestic.
”

“Shall we head to our fabulous mall date, Your Majesty?” Taylor asks.

“Most assuredly, my darling,” he says, then asks me, “Sure you don't want to come?”

I tell him I am sure, but I don't tell him the other thing I'm sure about, which is that I have some serious work cut out for me if I'm going to bring peace and harmony to Taylor by getting her together with Leo. I try to find the guy and talk to him, but he's gone, probably tucked away with the lights somewhere. I'd use the map to get to him, but those lights are awfully high above the stage. If he is up there and I join him, there's a ridiculously good chance I'll plummet to my painful death. Better not risk it. Instead I go home and plow through a couple pages of
Les Misérables,
which is already making me so
misérable
that even visions of Hugh Jackman aren't helping. I switch to Algebra 2, which is just as cruel. It's math
and
letters. The creator clearly had it out for dyslexics. I can only handle a couple minutes of that before I go to history. That I enjoy—we have a really interesting textbook that makes U.S. history read more like a novel than a class—but it's still a lot of reading, pretty dense with information, and it takes a long time to get through each page. I keep going with it after dinner, but when I can't bear to do any more afterward, I realize I have an out. I text Jenna. She's home in her room for the night, so I hurl my books into a backpack and pop over to her place. Studying's a million times easier when she and I do it together over cheese curls and Diet Coke. At least that's my snack. Jenna opts for sugar snap peas, hummus, and water, because she's a runner and there's clearly something seriously wrong with her taste buds.