Putting Boys on the Ledge (2 page)

I was vaguely aware of Allie returning, but I scooted slightly away from my friends so they wouldn't distract me.

He was amazing. When he finished the song, I clapped—for about one second, before Allie grabbed my hands. "No one else is clapping," she said in a hiss.

"But he was fabulous," I protested. He deserved to be cheered. He would change lives with that voice!

Allie didn't let go of my hands. "Remember The Ledge?"

"Uh-huh." I wasn't even listening to her. All I wanted to do was watch him. He was standing with his arms by his sides, talking to the director. He must be pretty tall, because the director barely came up to his shoulder.

"You can't put boys on The Ledge if they know you like them," Allie reminded me.

And mar that totally amazing face with tire tracks? And what would it do to his singing voice if he lost his spleen? "I don't want to put him on The Ledge."

Allie flicked me lightly on the side of the head. "Yes, you do. Trust me. Especially a guy as cute as that one. He needs double time on The Ledge."

Why would I want to turn him into a pancake on Storrow Drive? I wanted him curled up on the couch next to me, not covered in black tread marks. "No, I definitely don't want him on The Ledge."

Frances had folded her arms across her chest, which was not as big as Allie's, but definitely bigger than mine. She was inspecting the guy carefully. My guy. She was checking out the guy I'd noticed and staked my claim to. "Think he's a senior? He looks at least seventeen," she said.

"Oh..." Seventeen? A guy who was seventeen wouldn't be interested in a fourteen-year-old with small breasts and freckles.

The director turned away from the boy and peered at his notes. Then he looked up at the assembly hall. "Blue Waller, please."

Oh, my gosh. I grabbed Frances's arm. "Did he just say my name?"

Frances was grinning. "He sure did. I think he wants you to read with him."

"No way." I couldn't do that. Go up onstage? With him? And read? No way would my brain be a functioning unit that close to the most perfect guy I'd ever seen.

"Blue Waller? Are you here?" The director sounded a little annoyed now, and the guy shifted on the stage, peering into the assembly hall.

Looking for Blue Waller, no doubt.

That was me.

He was looking for me.

Holy cow. The most perfect guy I'd ever seen was looking for me.

Time to faint. And hide. And get cosmetic surgery before he could see me.

"She's right here," Allie shouted, lifting my hand and waving it at the stage.

"Allie!" I yanked my hand out of her grasp, but not before the director nodded at me and ordered me to the stage.

I glared at Allie. "I was going to sneak out the back."

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. You can't put a boy on The Ledge if he doesn't even know you exist."

I folded my arms across my chest. "I'm not going up there."

"Really? Coulda fooled me." And then my former friend planted her hands on my lower back and began pushing me toward the stage, while Frances settled into her chair looking rather entertained and being absolutely no help whatsoever.

I leaned back against Allie and resisted with impressive force, so that she was making incredibly slow progress toward the stage. The director and Perfect Boy would grow tired of waiting long before I got there.

"Blue," she said quietly.

"What?" I felt a little smug. No doubt was she about to give up manhandling me toward the stage.

"You look like an idiot right now, and that boy is totally watching you."

Against my will I looked up at the stage. Sure enough, Perfect Boy was staring right at me, a dopey freshman girl who was literally being pushed toward the stage by her friend. My humiliation was complete.

But it was too late to bail. Only thirty feet from the stage, I was definitely close enough that he could see my face. I had no choice but to pretend I was cool and sophisticated and hope that he was half-blind and hadn't been able to clearly see Allie shoving me toward him.

I immediately started walking forward of my own volition, as if I hadn't been trying to escape. Soon I was only twenty feet away from the stage. And from him. Oh, my gosh. He was watching me. And smiling.

Oh, no. What was the smile for? Was he laughing at me? Smiling at Allie? Flirting with any one of the many gorgeous girls milling around? "I think my legs are going to collapse," I whispered to Allie, hoping she'd whisk me off to safety, but all she did was pat me on the shoulder and veer off to take a seat.

She was definitely no longer my friend.

How dared she leave me on my own?

With a guy.

Who was totally cute.

I lifted my chin. No, I could do this. I was a solo warrior. If I made it through alive, Allie and Frances were going to pay for making me do this.

And I was definitely going to ignore the fact that I had dragged them there in the first place with specific orders not to let me wimp out. Yes, sure, I had told them that, but they were supposed to realize when it was time to adjust the plans.

All the rules had changed when a boy became involved. I hadn't even had time to check my hair. And it was too late now. The director was pointing me toward the stage and Perfect Boy was holding out his hand to pull me up.

Oh, my gosh. Should I take his hand? Or should I go the long way around and use the stairs? Or maybe I should just pretend I don't speak English and I'm looking for the bathroom.

No wonder everyone says high school is stressful.

"Come on up." Perfect Boy smiled at me.

At me.

Smiled.

And it was a nice smile.

And I was pretty certain he wasn't laughing at me.

Or maybe it was a hallucination. Maybe my mom slipped one of her new mental-clarity herbs in my vegan waffle this morning and it backfired, sending me into a delusional state. Maybe I was actually sitting in the principal's office about to get in trouble for passing notes in class and I'd slipped into some alternative reality to avoid facing the misery that was my life.

"I'm Heath," he said. His voice was deep and rich, and it sent goosebumps down my arms.

Heath. Perfect Boy had a name. It was Heath. Oh, my gosh. That was the sexiest name I'd ever heard. And he'd told me what his name was. Voluntarily. He couldn't be that horrified by me if he'd admitted his name.

Unless his name was actually Patrick and he'd lied so I'd never be able to track him.

"Come on." He was still holding his hand out, and still grinning.

Okay. I was a freshman now. I was totally worthy of being onstage with sexy Heath. And even worthier of being pulled onto the stage by him. So all I had to do was put my hand in his… But
my
arm seemed frozen.

Lift your hand.

In an impressive show of obedience, my hand went up, and I caught a glimpse of bare fingernails as it passed my face. Why hadn't we gone to Natalie's mom's shop last night and gotten our nails done? Heath would not be impressed by a fourteen-year-old with a small chest and naked fingernails.

But before I could yank my hand away and shove it in my jeans pocket out of sight, he grabbed it.

Or rather, he settled his long, strong fingers around my hand, infusing heat through every pore of my body. He tightened his grip, smiled yet
again
, and nodded. "I've got you."

He's got me.

Oh, he had no idea.

With an astounding lack of clumsiness, I managed to let Heath help me onto the stage. My hip brushed against his leg as he pulled me up.

I will never wash these jeans again.

The director shoved a script in my hand. "I'm Mr. Howland. Heath, you'll be reading the part of Vladimir. Blue, you'll be reading his mother."

His mother? I had to be his mother? He'd never be able to look at me sexually again. It would be like incest! Why couldn't I read the part of his sexy lover? Maybe even get a good kiss in the script—

Oh, my gosh. A kiss? He'd know instantly that I had no idea what I was doing. Could there be anything worse than having my first real kiss happen onstage? What if I did it wrong, and everyone was watching? Okay, never mind, The mother role was just fine. No kisses would be involved there. Or at least, no real kisses. Which were the type I was concerned about.

I grabbed the script from Mr. Howland and started to scan the words...only, I couldn't focus on the words. My entire being was consumed with how amazing Heath smelled. Like...like a man. Like he used aftershave or something.

While Mr. Howland rattled off instructions, I stole a very subtle look at Heath's face. I was quite certain I could see stubble! He shaved! He was so old! And I was standing next to him!

Heath glanced at me and lifted an eyebrow.

Oh, my gosh. He totally knew I'd been sniffing him like a dog. How much more undignified could I be?

"Okay, start from the top of page three." Mr. Howland hopped off the stage and walked back to the first row of chairs. "When you're ready."

Ready? For what? I had no clue. Obviously it would have been a much better plan to listen to Mr. Howland's directions instead of inhaling Heath.

"This your first time?" Heath asked, looking right at me.

Oh, my gosh. Heath was speaking directly to me, asking me a personal question, as if he really cared… Or was he reading from the script? I scanned page three, but I didn't see those words written anywhere. So was he just talking to me? On his own?

I looked up, and he smiled. Again. Was that, like, ten smiles I'd received? That had to qualify as flirting, right? "Are you talking to me?" I asked.

Oh, brilliant. Way to hide the fact I was an unsophisticated freshman who had never put any guy even close to The Ledge.

Heath grinned. "You look nervous. Relax. Just read the words as if you really mean them. It'll be fine."

He thought I looked nervous? He couldn't say, "Gosh, you look like a movie star." Or "Wow, I can't believe I've never met you before." Or "I don't think I can go another moment without your phone number." Instead, he said I looked nervous.

At least he didn't comment on my naked fingernails.

Then he touched my arm. On purpose. "Ready?"

He touched me! I wanted to freak out, jump off the stage and run over to Allie screaming that he'd touched me. But, that would probably not be the coolest thing to do, would it?
Get it together, Blue. At least pretend your brain hasn't melted into a pile of goo
. I managed a smile instead. I was so glad I had gotten my braces off before school started. One thing in my favor. "Sure. I'm ready."

He nodded. "Let's hit it."

Hit it? Was that like, "Let's get it right"? Or was that theater talk for, "Stop bugging me"? Or code for, "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and I'm too awed by your beauty to know how to tell you?"

Then he looked down and started reading his first line.

I could do this. I'd been reading since I was...well, before I can remember. I could read. I could speak. I could even tell funny stories. Therefore, I was perfectly capable of reading the lines out loud with expression.

He looked up.

Whoops. My turn. I looked down, read the words, and opened my mouth. And glory be, everything worked the way it was supposed to.

The next seven minutes were the best seven minutes of my life.

Heath and I had chemistry. We fed off each other's energy. We were destined to play opposite each other. He'd finish his line, and I'd be right there with mine. It was as if we each knew what the other was going to say before we said it.

Okay, so we did know that.

It was still amazing.

Then dratty old Mr. Howland dismissed us. Just took our scripts and sent us on our way.

Heath hopped off the stage first, then turned and held up his hand to help me down.

As if I was going to turn down that offer.

I'd touched his hand once and survived without my body exploding into sparks and ashes. I was a cool, sophisticated, experienced woman who was entirely capable of handling that kind of stimulation twice in ten minutes without losing her composure.

"Why, thanks, Heath." I put my hand in his and leaped ever so gracefully off the stage. It was amazing to think I'd acquired such finesse without years of dance.

No doubt Heath was feeling the attraction.

I landed beside him and beamed at him, waiting for him to make the move. Ask for my phone number. Invite me to a movie. Start my dating life off with the bang it deserved.

"I'll see you around." And then he walked away.

Without my phone number.

Without any way to ever get in touch with me again.

What?

"I have to admit, Blue, he's pretty cute." Frances was already next to me, peering after Heath as he caught up with a group of girls. He even slung his arm over the shoulder of one of them.