“Hey,” I said, reaching to take his coat. Today, he wore dark jeans and a blue shirt, slightly open at the neck. He was absolutely perfect and I felt a bit bad that all I had on were my jeans and a tee-shirt. “Meetings run late?”
“There’s a problem with Beauty and the Beast,” he said, rolling his eyes as he went to sit on my bed. “Half of the committee feels that the publicity of me playing the lead wouldn’t be worth depriving a student of the role.”
“What?” I turned, stunned. “But you have to be Beast. I’m Beauty.”
“I know,” he wiggled his eyebrows at me, which made me laugh. “But perhaps they’re right. I could at least cast someone for the role, and have them play it most of the time. The one performance I do it will be a special one for the press. And to teach this school how to act.” He threw himself backwards, lying on my bed. I came to sit beside him, folding my legs under me. This was often a complaint of Liam, that most of the school was only it in for the fame and glory.
“Can I act?” I asked, even though I already knew his answer. He turned his head towards me; a smile playing off his lips.
“Amy, when you act I forget that anything else exists but the world you are creating. Somehow, untrained, you understand more than the students who’ve had twelve years here. You’re a diamond in the rough … an oasis in the desert. You’re a…” We were interrupted by his stomach growling. I laughed.
“I’m a good girlfriend who feeds you good food, and that’s the only reason you’re here,” I said, and he leant on his elbows.
“That’s part of it.”
I had prepared Oatmeal cookies last night when I went home to visit my father, and I brought out a plate of them now, placing them between us on the bed.
“How long can you stay?” I asked, and he stifled a yawn.
“A few hours of quality time, at least. I was wondering if you had given any thought to the dance class that was added to the semester.”
I shrugged.
“Only if it starts at a kindergarten level. I’m not a dancer. Who’s teaching it?”
“A dance teacher from Russia,” he said. “And a few guest instructors, like Porsche, when I can get them.”
“Forget that then,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ll look like an elephant in a tutu.”
“But a very cute one,” He said, poking at the cookies.
“How did you meet Porsche?” I asked, and he cocked his head.
“Why?”
“Just curious,” I said, with a casual shrug. He took my hand, squeezing it.
“Amy, I told you, there’s absolutely nothing to be jealous of.”
“I know,” I replied, looking out the window as a kite flew by. “I just…want to know. Since she’s your closest friend, right?”
“Right,” he thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “We met at a party years ago. She was the life of the party, and I fell into her. Literally tripped. She’s a fun girl, and there are things about us that click, like the fact that we’re both performers. But really, Amy, it’s not like that.” He pulled me closer, laying a light kiss on my lips. “Truly, you’re the only person I have eyes for.”