Last week, you voted to ask Silas to check out Kayla’s house with you (look at you, multitasker!). Let’s see what happens next!
Chapter 03: Major Dramz Ahead
“What are you doing later?” you ask, hoping that you’ve done a good enough job of masking your nervous excitement. “I want to check out Kayla’s house, and wondered if you’d want to come with?”
Silas tilts his head to the left, which makes him look adorable on top of being scorching hot. “Well, I was planning on checking out the Drama Club meeting. But sure, I’ll hook up with you after that.”
OMG HE WANTS TO HOOK UP WITH YOU! Not in the context that you want him to, but SERIOUSLY this better not be the last time he puts that thought together.
But wait — oh FLUCK, you totally forgot about Drama Club! “I’m actually headed there myself. If the meeting’s not over yet, we can stop by before heading off to Kayla’s.”
Even though you’re way late and should really pick up the pace, you also want to make this stroll with Silas last as long as possible. But you have to walk faster to keep up with his long (lean, muscular) strides anyway. Though there worse things than the view when you’re straggling behind Silas . . .
You’re turning the corner to the theatre’s backstage door. “Hold up,” you snap out of your hormone-induced trance. “You’re trying out for the school play?”
Silas gives you a playful sideway grin. “What, you don’t think I’d make a convincing leading man?”
As you fumble for a witty retort, hoping that the shade of crimson you’ve surely turned comes off as more coquettish and shy than fire-engine red, you’re blissfully interrupted by the squeak of an opening door. It’s . . . Dylan. He’s still got that chick Stephanie draped all over him, as they walk away without seeing you.
How could he be so callous? Acting like Kayla isn’t even his girlfriend, like she’s never coming back, like she’s already d— NO. No.
Fortunately, Silas doesn’t notice you staring daggers into the back of Dylan’s skull. Mr. Crane has posted the sign-up sheets on the bulletin board, but he’s already slinked away. So much for your reconnaissance mission.
“You’re Silas, right?” a cheerful voice dripping with insincerity cuts through the air. “First period history? I’m Alexandria. And YOU absolutely MUST audition for Henry Higgins!”
Oh JOY. It’s Alexandria Winterbourne, Kayla’s Drama Club archnemesis and mean girl extraordinaire. “Omigosh Caitlin! I didn’t even notice you there, how are you!”
“Oh, I’m just great,” you respond, imbued with a confidence that doesn’t seem to be your own. “This year’s production’s going to be the best yet, don’t you think? Kayla’s had all of My Fair Lady memorized since kindergarten.” And so have you, since she always made you the Henry to her Eliza.
Alexandria arches an artfully sculpted eyebrow. “Well, your bestie better hurry home. Auditions are at the end of the week.” She turns her attention back onto Silas, poised to bat her eyelashes some more.
“Wait — what?” As perturbed as you are that Alexandria has set her sights on Silas, you’re even more perplexed by what she’s just said. “But auditions aren’t supposed to be until the end of the month.”
She shrugs. Or at least the mean girl equivalent that gives her an excuse to point her chest towards Silas. “Crane’s pushing up the play to before the break. Budget cuts or something.” But why would the best theatrical program in three counties have financing problems?
“So, Silas,” Alexandria smiles coyly at him. “Need any help running through your lines?”
“No thanks,” Silas replies as he puts his arm around you (SO! MUCH! TOUCHING! Ahem.). “Landry here is all the help I need.”
Her expression sours. “Wow, Caitlin! I didn’t know your talents extended beyond being such a great lighting director!”
You cast a flirtatious gaze at Silas (which he totally returns!). “What can I say? I have a lot of hidden talents.”
Having lost this round, Alexandria feigns some excuse to scamper away. You’re saved from some surely awkward convo, as Silas grabs a pen from his back pocket. (It’s perfectly normal to be jealous of a pen, right? Right.) “Come on, let’s sign up and go over to Kayla’s.”
As he scrawls his name for the Henry Higgins role, you glance over the other sign-up sheets. Surprise, surprise — the first name on the Eliza Doolittle list is Alexandria Winterbourne, frivolous flourish and all. And under your realm of expertise, the tech team, there’s . . . Dylan Corbetti? Why’s the reigning Sky Masterson signing up for backstage?
Silas hands you his pen, his eyes meeting yours. “So, Landry,” the words escape him in a soft whisper. “What’s it gonna be?”
You sign up for:
A. The lead role. Someone should put that Alexandria in her place!
B. Theatre tech. They’ll need all the help they can get with that reduced budget.
C. Nothing. How can you focus on a play when Kayla’s still missing?
