Текст книги "Triangle: The Complete Series"

Автор книги: Susann Julieva

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myself breathing shallowly through my mouth and saying things like “please” and “now” and “Rizzo”.

His body is so damn amazing, and I can’t even describe the things he does with it. The last

functioning part of my brain stops to wonder how I could’ve ever forgotten something like this. Then

even that part of my brain shuts down and all I can do is feel.

As I slowly walk back to my dorm a while later, my knees aching just a little, all I can think about is

Rizzo. It doesn’t even occur to me to worry about that. All I want to know is when the next time will be.

But then I realize that it’s Thursday night, and there are always some amazing parties on Thursday

nights. This is turning out to be one hell of a great day.

Chapter 5

Mild Light

JAMES: It’s early October and ridiculous Halloween decorations are popping up everywhere. Someone

put up a singing plastic pumpkin in the hallway of our dorm, which in itself deserves the death penalty

in my opinion, because every couple of minutes someone pushes its button in passing and the thing

starts to wail like Tina Turner on speed. I have plans of sneaking down at night to – accidentally -

completely and utterly destroy it. These plans are only complicated slightly by it being unexpectedly

difficult to find a chainsaw on campus.

Other than that, though, I’m glad that summer is over and no one can deny that fall has begun. And

what an amazing fall we’re having this year. Shriner’s Park looks stunning with leaf colors ranging from

bright yellow to deep flaming red. The mornings are shrouded in mist and the earth smells rich and

moist all day long. Groups of enormous crows have taken over the grounds and like to attack the

freshmen trying to feed them.

I’ve barely had time to look around and fully appreciate it. No matter how late I stay up to study or

how early I get up, there’s always more to do. Sometimes I get too wrapped up in it all, and I know that

Casey’s been feeling neglected. But he knows what I’m like. It’s not something I can simply switch off.

He makes no secret of thinking that I’m taking on too much, but I need that. Keeping busy keeps me

from thinking, and if he had to live in my brain for just one day, he’d be the first to agree that things are

better this way.

I treasure the moments with him. I always do. I’m so far from home when he’s around, miles from

back then. It just breaks me, how he makes me want to be a better person. Someone who wouldn’t go

around seeing somebody else behind his back. Someone he’d deserve to be with. Someone not tainted,

jaded, and worn out.

It’s draining though, trying to be more positive and more open. But hell, if I can’t stand myself the

way I am, I gotta do something. And it’s easier to try for him. Still, if Casey knew who I really was,

what I have done… No, he must never know. I could never tell him, or anyone. And that’s not because I

had to swear not to.

* * *

The sky is so blue it’s unreal, like it’s pretending that it’s spring already. But the typical fluffy fall

clouds are lazily drifting by above us, and I have a hard time concentrating. What does the sky look like

over Berlin? Yet another secret weighing on my shoulders. But what good would it do now, telling

Casey that I applied for the scholarship? It might just cause a big fuss about nothing, after all. So why

on earth did I tell Danny?

Casey follows my gloomy stare to the park bench not too far from where we are sitting with our

books, trying to study. Danny’s crew is fooling around, enjoying the mild weather. Andrea, that

beautiful but cold brunette, is looking over at us. Rich girl, the dean’s daughter. She nods shortly when

she notices me. Just about as warm as a freezer, but out of that bunch of clowns, she’s the only one with

a personality of her own.

Danny’s friends have, for reasons one can only suspect, started to greet me whenever we meet. I

either ignore them or tell them to go to hell, it’s that absurd. They’ve never so much as glanced at me

before, and now I’m supposed to feel special, because they acknowledge my existence? Screw them all.

This isn’t high school, and you can shove your popularity right up your ass. If you want me to be

impressed with who you are and what you do, win a Nobel prize.

I’ve given up trying to avoid Danny, and still I hardly see him on his own these days. He’s always

with his crowd, and if he’s not, then that little punk from the cafe can’t be far. Something about that guy

irritates me. Enough for my fist to feel the violent urge to decorate his face with a nice black bruise

every time he leaves with Danny. He reminds me of a dog, and I don’t like dogs. They’re all about

dribbling and following orders, and they smell awful when they’re wet. So there.

I mean, I never expected Danny to take a vow of chastity because of me, but there’s no need for him

to make it that obvious that he’s having one hell of a great time.

I’m in a relationship, I have absolutely no right or reason to be jealous, that’s why it makes me even

angrier that I am. Why is it so unbearably hard to see him with someone else? Why do I feel like he’s

supposed to be mine? But that’s just the thing with Rizzo, isn’t it? He has a way of making you want

him to be yours and yours alone. But I’m not going to fall for that anymore.

The thought of us just being friends is plain laughable. So what else could we be?

Nothing. There is nothing else.

I look at Casey, and he’s still gazing over to their bench. When he notices me looking at him, he

smiles quickly. But something about that smile isn’t quite honest, it doesn’t match the startled look in

his eyes. As if he were feeling caught.

He nods to the bench and rolls his eyes in mild annoyance. Then he shuts the book on his lap. “Just

what is it about Rizzo?”

I try to fight the uneasy feeling, the feeling that I ought to really be paying attention to what’s

happening here. “I hate to be the one to remind you, but you were completely smitten with him last

semester.”

Casey snorts. “I wasn’t. At least not that much!”

I smile to myself and read the last few sentences on my page. Then I close my book as well and shift

a little to turn towards him. The golden light seems to soften the features of his handsome face. He has

his eyes half closed, squinting at the sun. Two small slits of sparkling blue. He’s lost a bit of weight

lately, but it looks good. More mature somehow.

“But you, James,” he continues with a frown. “You never liked Rizzo or his crowd. And now…”

“What now?”

“I’m asking you. What changed your mind?”

I’m puzzled by the unexpected question. How am I supposed to answer that? “Well, he’s… I dunno.”

Okay, that was lame. I wince inwardly.

“What? What is he?”

I shrug and longingly glance down at my book. “Interesting?”

“Intriguing. That’s what you really mean.” Casey sounds more thoughtful than hurt.

I’m quick to shake my head. “He’ll never be you.”

Whatever it was, it seems to fall off him like snow falls off the trees in spring, and he leans over to

kiss me.

“I’m sorry, James. I don’t know what’s up with me lately. Maybe I’m stressed out because of that

paper I have due next week.” He throws a dark look into Danny’s direction. “But when he’s around…”

“You have nothing to worry about, okay?”

He draws in a deep breath and sighs. I watch him for a moment, watching Danny, and I wish I could

read his mind. So much has happened between the three of us, and we’re all pretending it hasn’t. I guess

Danny’s not the only actor in our little group. I suddenly ask myself how convincing a performance

Casey and I are giving. I for one am definitely hiding something, but for the first time I wonder, is he

hiding things from me as well?

“But I do worry,” Casey finally replies quietly. “I know Rizzo wants you, and I think he’s used to

getting what he wants. And that should worry both of us.”

He pauses, and looks away. “Remember last semester? Remember how he played us off against each

other? What if it would have worked?”

“He’s not gonna do that anymore.”

Casey sits up straight and crosses his arms in front of his chest. I can feel a brand-new distance

between us that I don’t understand. It almost hurts when he looks at me, his eyes dark with suspicion

and something else that I can’t read. “Isn’t he? I think you’re wrong to trust him.”

“Who says I do?”

He just stares at me, completely serious. “You know you do. But he’s not your friend, James. He’s

nobody’s friend but his own.”

I don’t know why his words upset me, but they do. And I feel the need to defend Danny, although I

know that’ll be a bad mistake. “You don’t know him.”

Casey laughs dryly, and for a second I get a glimpse of how much my liking Danny really gets to

him. He always pretended that he was okay with it, but now I see that I’ve been blind. But just how

blind have I been? And why does it feel like the sting of his jealousy is not directed at Danny, but at me?

What are we really talking about here?

Casey’s words cut through the distance between us like a whip lashing out at me.

“You don’t know him either, James. He’s playing you, just like he did me. And what on earth do you

think you know about him anyway?”

We sit in cold and uncomfortable silence for a long moment. That was harsh. There was no need for

that. But then again, maybe there was. Maybe I deserved it. Am I being loyal to him? Is it enough not to

touch, not to kiss, not to make out with someone else, when I still want them? Just where exactly does

betrayal start? Does it start where I feel like Danny understands me better than Casey ever could? Or

does it already start where I’m priding myself on knowing stuff about Danny Rizzo? Does it start where

I feel like I have a right to know? Does it start where I want to know?

I look over to the other bench where it’s sunny and bright, to the girl whispering something into

Danny’s ear, and then giggling loudly when a sly grin appears on his lips. It’s a good question. What do

I know about Rizzo?

The answer is easy enough, and nevertheless thoroughly devastating.

“Nothing. You’re right. Absolutely nothing.”

* * *

“How’ve you been, Jimmy boy?” Out of nowhere, Danny flops down on the chair next to mine the

next afternoon when I’m finally taking a brief break to eat. Yes, even I have to do that occasionally. He

snags two fries from my plate and I let him, watching as they disappear in his mouth.

I just shrug. I’m not in the best of moods today. And how does he always seem to know when I need

to see him, even before I know myself? Most irritating.

With the large stained-glass windows and the arched ceiling, the cafeteria always reminds me of a

chapel. The beams of light falling inside today are mild. Tiny specks of dust are slow-motion waltzing

in them. Danny’s short hair is shining like a halo around him, and I’m half-waiting for a white dove to

come down from heaven and land on his shoulder.

“You not talking to me today?” he asks with that irresistibly charming smile.

I take a sip of my Evian, trying to buy time before I speak. The truth is that I don’t know what to say.

Casey’s words are spinning in my head again. I’d never even realized how little I know about Danny.

And I wonder what he would tell me if I asked. The truth? Or a polished version of the truth he tells the

adoring public to build the legend of Rizzo? Whoever that is. Am I sitting next to a complete stranger?

“Who are you really?”

I’m aware that that’s not the kind of question to start a cafeteria conversation with, but the words left

my mouth before I could stop myself.

Danny just looks at me for a long moment, and I can almost see the thoughts behind his eyes. His

expression changes from baffled to amused, but then he seems to realize that I’m serious, and his little

smile disappears. And he just looks amazed now; his brown eyes are warm.

“That took a while,” he finally says quietly.

“You mean, people usually ask this earlier on?” Damn that sarcastic voice of mine. Maybe I’m just

surprised that my strange little question seems to actually mean something to him. It does to me, and

that makes me feel awkward and vulnerable. I’m not a big fan of this feeling.

“Nobody’s ever asked me that, James.”

I really do wish he’d stop looking at me. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut? Why did I have to

ask? It feels like I’ve foolishly crossed a line that I wasn’t meant to cross. Or maybe I was, and that’s

why I’m freaking. Thoughts are roller-coaster riding in my head. I should just get up and leave right

now. Turn around and never look back, as long as I still can. In my mind’s eye I see that cold, warning

look from yesterday in Casey’s gaze again, sending a shiver down my spine.

Uncomfortably I pick at my food for a bit, then I finally put my fork down and glance at Danny. I

can’t not ask. I’m sorry, Case.

“So what’s your answer?”

Danny holds my eyes and there’s a beautiful open smile on his lips. “You’re welcome to find out any

time.”

His words make my heart beat treacherously fast in my chest. For a moment there seems to be a

silent exchange between us, some kind of deeper understanding. The world around us fades away, the

noise of scraping cutlery on plates and muttered conversations disappears in the background of my

mind. I read another answer in his eyes, and that answer says: You can have everything. You can have all

of me.

Holy shit. What have I begun? How do I get out of this? Do I even want to? What is he trying to tell

me? Am I supposed to break up with Casey? Am I to be with him instead? To have an actual

relationship with Rizzo?

He can’t be serious. I’m reading him wrong. I’m imagining things.

“Are you alright?” he asks warmly, and for a moment it really does feel like an entirely different

person talking to me.

“Sure. I’m fine. I’m great.”

I have read him wrong. I must have. He didn’t actually tell me that he wanted to be with me. All he

did was invite me to get to know him better. And where’s a padded cell when you need it?

Danny nods to my plate with a twinkle in his eyes. “Food’s getting cold.”

“Help yourself.”

He moves closer, and we start to eat together. I watch him while I’m chewing, and suddenly I can’t

help but smile.

No, he’s no stranger to me. I have no idea what he is to me, but one thing that the shock just now

made me realize is that he means a lot more than I was aware of before. Because a tiny, completely

irrational part of me actually loved the idea of being with him. And that part is super curious as to what

that would be like. The rational part of me can’t even imagine, though.

Has he ever actually been in a serious relationship? Is he even capable of it? How would that work

when we have absolutely nothing in common?

Crap. This is absurd. I’m going to stop thinking about it right now. I force myself to look away, take

another fork full of veggies, and let my gaze wander through the room. And then I absolutely freeze.

Casey is standing in the open door, looking at us from across the room. I have no idea how long he’s

been there, but my guess is for quite a while.

I slowly raise my hand and wave for him to come over. But he just stands there and looks at me, with

a completely unreadable expression on his face. Then he turns around and leaves.

When I turn my head to look at Danny again, his eyes are narrowed slightly as he is looking past me.

It takes me a second to realize he’s staring at the spot where Casey had been standing. And that barely

visible, victorious subzero smile on his lips gives me the creeps.

Chapter 6

Addictive

NICK: The ceiling is still white. It was white an hour ago when I collapsed back on my bed, and it’s

still white as snow now. The only time that it might have been anything other than white were those few

times I remember blinking. Otherwise it’s been white the whole time.

I can hear people out in the hallway. Hell, I even recognize some of their voices. They could

probably come in here if they wanted, I’m pretty sure the door isn’t locked. Nothing I could do about it

either if they did. I tried moving a few minutes ago I think, and my entire body is like a giant pile of

lead. I couldn’t even get my head off the bed. That’s… sort of funny, really.

Oh, and I thought of something really damn funny a while ago. My parents sent me to a shrink back

when I was eleven. They were just starting to go through their divorce and they wanted to make sure I

got through it okay. Shitty thing to do to a kid, yeah.

He told me that I have an “addictive personality” – can you believe it? Eleven years old! With my

parents sleeping in different beds and shouting at each other all the time. Like I cared about addictive

personalities. God, that shrink was such an asshole. Three sessions and I refused to go back. I’ll never

go to another one again.

Guess he sort of knew what he was talking about though, cuz look at me now!

This all started back in high school. And I wouldn’t even be thinking about these things if I wasn’t

high as a kite right now. Damn, that was some good shit I took. Anyway, yeah, been screwed up for a

while now. It’s never been a bad thing before.

But now, and here’s the hilarious part – and if I was more together I’d be crying I’d be laughing so

hard – I’m addicted to Rizzo.

Rizzo!

I manage to close my eyes at the thought of him, and suddenly it’s earlier today and I’m back in his

room, covered with sweat and his body.

* * *

We’re screwing in his bed, and he’s been teasing me for what seems like hours before finally pushing

into me, his forehead pressed against my shoulder, breath panting across my skin and drying the sweat

there. I can feel the shape of his lips, and that tiny little thing makes me even harder.

But something in the way he’s touching me – the way it’s different than it has been before… I realize

(and it’s like someone kicking me in the goddamn head) I’m not the one he’s fucking right now.

I almost push him off me, I’m so angry. I don’t care who he sleeps with – it’s not like that with us.

But he’d damn well better pay attention to me when we’re doing this.

He’s still moving though. And I still can’t believe the things he does… I can feel my brain almost

leaking out my ear it’s so good. But in the second before I lose all capability to think, it’s all clear. I

know who I’m “playing understudy” for.

And then – oh hell – Rizzo’s curving his body against mine, and I’m completely gone.

* * *

I flop back on the bed and turn my face half into the pillow when we’re done, trying to breathe slower.

I’m going to need to stay like this for a while before I’m able to get up. I have no bones and no muscles,

but I really don’t give a shit right now.

That’s when he laughs at me, and I’m satisfied that the asshole sounds at least a little winded.

“You’re taking up my whole bed, Keller. Move your scrawny ass over.” I feel a jab in my ribs, but it

isn’t that hard, so I know he’s not actually upset.

“Screw you, Rizzo. I’m not moving for a while.” I laugh. “Besides, I was under the impression that

you enjoyed my scrawny ass.” The memory of him thinking of someone else jumps back into my brain

and I stop laughing.

I feel the bed shift and fingers on my skin before one of my earrings is tugged – almost too hard. I

wince into the cotton of the pillowcase before he heaves himself up, making some soft comment about

baby goths invading his bed. I manage to raise my arm enough to flip him off, my hand hovering in

midair even after I’ve delivered my message.

There’s a familiar sound that I can’t quite place, and he laughs again on a breathy exhale. I realize he

must’ve gone across the room because I can hear him coming back towards the bed now. I open my

eyes to see him standing there in a pair of unbuttoned jeans, denim and skin, smoking a cigarette and

making it look completely incredible. He takes another drag and reaches over to wrap my fingers

around it. My skin gives a little shiver even at that contact, but I try not to show it. I lift that hand to my

mouth, take a long, grateful drag, and blink. Looking past his legs I see my black jeans thrown over a

chair, the corner of a pack sticking out of the front pocket.

“Asshole,” I say, but there’s no heat to it and he grins down at me. I finally let my arm fall and it

drapes across my ribcage, the still-lit cigarette threatening to drop from my fingers. He takes it back

before I do drop it, crossing back to his desk where he leans while he finishes it off. I can feel his gaze

on me even when I look down to rub at a nipple piercing that got flipped around earlier when I yanked

my shirt off. Done with that, I close my eyes again and sigh. I can still feel him watching me – it crawls

against my skin. I swallow against the rising lump in my throat that I don’t want to acknowledge.

“Riz-”

“You can’t stay,” he says, and I nod to myself. I knew it was going to be one of these days.

“I’ve got-”

“Plans. I know.” You bastard. My voice doesn’t shake, something I’m glad for, but it’s colder than

I’d meant it to be. I push myself up from the bed, ignoring the unsteady way the room turns. I don’t

know if it’s from my change in position or from something else, and I don’t particularly care. I spot my

boxers on the floor a few feet away and begin the awkward process of re-collecting my clothing. I

always hate it, and it doesn’t put me in a good mood, no matter how amazing a lay Rizzo is.

“You always going to do that now?” I ask him when I’m dressed again. We don’t talk much, not

about anything serious at least, and I’m not sure what makes me ask this now. He pulls a shirt on to

cover that damn beautiful body of his and raises an eyebrow at me.

“What?”

“Fucking him when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

He stops and looks at me – looks through me. I can’t breathe when the bastard does that, and I’m

sure he knows it. And does it for that reason. But I almost think he’s actually going to talk to me about

this…

Then his eyes, I don’t know, they change or something. And he grins at me. He’s done that before.

He’s always doing it. Grinning at me. Laughing at me. Like there’s some huge joke that I’m not in on.

This time though… This time it feels different.

And not just him laughing at me, but this whole thing. Him. It feels different than anyone else I’ve

slept with in the past few years. He’s the only one that’s been around more than a day or two – we’ve

been doing this for weeks now, and I’m still saying ‘yes’ and jumping up to follow him every time he

shows up.

Maybe that’s it. Someone like Danny Rizzo is bothering to come find me, even if it is just for a quick

screw before going on with the rest of his day. And I’m basking in the shit like it’s sunshine.

Not only that, but when I don’t see him now, there’s that same pull in my brain – that pressure I get

when I’ve been sober for too long. Apparently I’ve gone and become addicted to a person. He’s in my

blood like everything else I’m doing.

And I realize something he must’ve known for a while now. That it doesn’t matter what his answer

is. Or even if he answers at all. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I’m as dependent on him now as

I am on what Marc sells me.

It makes me angry again, knowing I’ve let myself get to this point. I’m such an idiot. And I need to

get out of here – get somewhere that I can disconnect and forget what a huge pussy I am.

I turn toward the door, my body doing its best to keep up with my brain. There’s a weight on my arm

and I look down to see a hand wrapped around it above the leather wrist cuff. I look over my shoulder

just enough to see his dark eyes focused on me. Between his gaze and his grip, my skin goes hot and

tight and I barely suppress a shiver.

“Tomorrow.” There’s not even a question in his voice. Only statement, like it’s a sure thing. Like I’m

a sure thing. And even though I know now that it’s true, it still grates against the little pride I have left

in this.

“Fuck you.”

“Tomorrow.” An echo of that grin again. Like this is a game for him.

“I’m not your whore, Rizzo.” But I know that’s a lie, and so does he. He takes a step and slides his

body up against mine. I blink slowly enough that my eyes are still closed when his whisper slips hot and

dark against my skin.

“Tomorrow.”

I swallow and shudder at the feel of his mouth suddenly at the corner of mine. He’s kissed me all of

two or three times, and it was shocking and demanding each time. And there’s no way he doesn’t know

that I love it.

“Tomorrow,” I whisper back at him, and I can feel his smile against my lips. I lean in to close that

last distance, but he’s suddenly gone, the left side of my body chilled now without him there. By the

time my brain catches up to me and I force my eyes open again, he’s already back across the room,

grabbing a towel and some clothes like I’m not even there.

I slam his door on my way out, like a child. Part of me is beginning to hate this whole thing.

But I’ll be back tomorrow, that’s for damn sure.

* * *

I blink my eyes back open and stare at my ceiling again. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, if he weren’t so

wrapped up in that guy from the cafe. Who obviously already has a boyfriend. Or whatever. And Rizzo

doesn’t have the brain in his head to look around at anyone else.

Not that I’m jealous. I’m not, dammit! There’s no ties holding Rizzo to me, and I’ll be damned

before I’ll admit that there are ties holding me to him.

But shit. My skin crawls when I don’t see him. The backs of my eyes itch and I get this pain in my

chest. And the only word I have to describe this shit is ‘withdrawal’. From a person!

Holy crap, the room is spinning again. God, does that stuff feel good. Like the whole world is

turning. And turning right around me. Whatever Marc brought me was exactly what I needed. I can

hardly feel my body at all.

I’d called him up when I got back to my room. Marc, not Rizzo. I don’t need Rizzo any more. I

don’t. But if I don’t have him… I’m realizing that I need something else to replace it. Him. Something

strong.

“Take me somewhere, Marc,” was all I’d needed to say, and that gravel-wrecked voice was laughing

at me through the phone, promising to be over in ten.

Nine minutes later, he’d handed something to me with a grin. I paid him without even asking. I don’t

want to know what he brings me. It always works, so I don’t need to know. And it’s not like I need to

worry about money. My parents never blink an eye when I need more. Like they’re paying me off so

that they can forget about me the rest of the time.

Marc made some comment about something screwing with me. I didn’t need to hear it and kicked

him out of my room. I’d already knocked back that handful of whatever he’d brought me and I was

starting to spin. Couldn’t get the door locked, but at least I got it closed and got to my bed.

I’ve been here ever since. Not sure how long. Doesn’t matter, really. Not today.

* * *

I woke up about 30 minutes ago. At least I think so. I’m pretty sure. Sometime between the time I

finally passed out and the time I woke up (and I have no clue how long it’s been), I must’ve come to just

enough to take my clothes off, because I’m only wearing my boxers now. Either that or someone did

come into my room. To strip me down and leave me in bed. Yeah right.

Anyway, my head’s mainly clear right now. I could probably eat something, but laying here is too

nice to bother hauling my ass up for food. Only I’m pretty sure it’s a Tuesday afternoon. And I think

I’ve got one of Jeff’s classes this afternoon. One of my actual drama classes. So I know I should get up.

These are the important ones… And being a drama class, I might just see Rizzo around in the hallways

or something.

Shit, I can’t stop thinking about him. This is insane.

Rizzo with his skin. And those eyes. And that damn shit-eating grin of his. And his hands. And his

body. The way he moves. His voice. The little sounds he makes and the way his breath catches when

he’s inside-

Damn! Now I’ve got morning wood and it’s not even morning!

Screw this shit, I’m going to class!

* * *

I didn’t have a lot of time to get dressed and get to class, and now I’m sitting here wishing I’d at least

grabbed some coffee, because Jeff looks like he’s ready to pop. And it’s got to be something big to

make him that excited.

He’s waited until the end of class though. Now we’re all gathered around and waiting for him to let

us in on the little secret. Most of us are at least second years and have known him for a while. So it’s

pretty much silent when he starts to talk.

“Now I know a lot of you had heard rumors that we were going to be doing a Miller performance,

but that was only my backup plan in case we needed it. But the original plan has been okayed by the

University.

“I’m sure by now you’ve all seen the posters or heard about our Bicentennial celebration.

Woodhaven was founded two hundred years ago, and to mark the occasion, the administration is

planning a cycle of events throughout the year.” I can hear some moron in back getting excited already,

when Jeff hasn’t even told us a damn thing yet that any of us didn’t already know.

“The drama department is going to be part of the celebrations. Instead of having two small shows

this year, there is just going to be one large show in the spring. Plus, we’ll be combining with other

departments – dance and music – to do a multi-departmental performance…”

He actually pauses for dramatic effect. “…of Hamlet.”

I swear some bitch gasps in excitement. Really. If I weren’t so wiped out, I’d roll my eyes.

Not that it isn’t exciting. It’s majorly exciting. And I need to get a part. I know that right now.

Everyone in the class has started whispering to people around them, and I can see Jeff smiling in

satisfaction. Then he turns and sees me looking at him. He waves me over as he dismisses the rest of the

class.

As I walk up to him, I hear someone start to talk about who should be cast in what parts. Someone

mentions Rizzo as Hamlet. It figures. He’s not even here and the world revolves around him.

“Nick…” People are still leaving the room, and Jeff talks only loud enough for me to hear. “You

doing okay?”

I blink at him. What sort of question is that? Am I doing okay? Do I look like I’m not doing okay?