All Planned Out

Seven (Alex)

"I doubt they're terrible." I said, and again he smiled. It was much wider this time. "And even if they are, terrible movies get made all the time."

He chuckled. "I'm sure when I finish this one I'll probably think it's also terrible, for now I'm just, um, kind of in love with it."

"What's it about?"

"Shh." He said again. "How's about you tell me how things are going with Sally? Cause Harry is really hard to read."

Sally? Harry?

"What?"

"Uh..." His eyes rolled back. "...Danny and Sandy? Tony and Maria? Jack and Rose? Um, Jack and Ennis?" He laughed again, a little louder. "Yeah, let's go with that one. She'd love that comparison."

"I still have no idea what you are talking about."

"Oh." He held up his hand and started lifting fingers. "When Harry Met Sally, of course. Um, Grease, West Side Story, Titanic, and Brokeback Mountain. Yeah. That's all of them." He wiggled his fingers at me, then leaned toward me and lowered his voice. "Your little plan. How do you think it's going?"

Oh. OH.

"She only bothered me a few times after we got home to see if I'd ask her how she was doing after that fall she took. I told her to stop worrying and that she was fine."

"She was. Not even limping this morning."

"Good. I think Charlotte was on the lookout for her but neither of us saw her and I was not going to drive by her house so she could scope her out."

"She might have appreciated it. It was her day to drive and I honestly think she hates it. I bet she would have accepted a ride."

"I am not telling her that. She'd kill me."

"Same. If she really didn't want to drive she'd just force me to do it."

"And you would?"

"Of course I would. Just because she ain't my girl doesn't meant she ain't my girl, Alex. Also, yuck, don't ever watch that movie. Sentimental, maudlin garbage." He rubbed at his face a few times and shuddered. "I guess maybe that isn't really forcing then, is it?"

I shook my head. "Not as such, no."

Stuart's body shifted around in his seat as if he was suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. I guess these desks can do that to a person, just maybe not ten minutes into a school day. I watched him as he fidgeted around, then slipped his notebook away into his bag. He then leaned way back in his seat, stretching his arms as far over and behind his head as he could. He was almost touching the windows.

"You know..." he said after a moment, his voice still quiet, "...I thought after Friday everything would be different. She made a big change and, like, nothing else feels like it's changed at all." He paused. I could see him start to smirk. "Mostly."

I swallowed. I had no idea what he was talking about. Everything felt so much different than it had before Charlotte saw, and showed me, Montana's post on Friday. Finding out about Stuart definitely didn't help. I'm sure he wouldn't be saying everything was all the same if he knew about me and all the thoughts I've been having over the last twelve to sixteen hours.

But he's not going to know about those thoughts. Nope. Not any time soon, at the very least.

"I don't know what you were expecting." I said.

The smirk grew. "Let's just say that I never thought Harry would tell the world about her feelings without already having a Sally lined up and ready."

"That ain't how it worked in the movie." I watched as his right eyebrow twitched in confusion, as even Charlotte always found it odd that I had knowledge of older romantic comedies. Certain ones, anyway. "My mom loves Meg Ryan. Seen all her movies. Courage Under Fire is her favorite." His brow furrowed. "That's a joke."

"Ehhhh." He waggled his hand toward me. "My mom's favorite film ever is Breakfast At Tiffany's and nothing I can say or do will ever change that. Like, Roman Holiday is right there."

Stuart slouches forward and playfully shakes his fist around, grumbling and mumbling to himself. I'm pretty sure he mentions something about Gregory Peck, a name that I only recognize because I've had to watch To Kill A Mockingbird more than once in a classroom setting.

It was not the weirdest thing in the world that Stuart would have an interest in film, but I've never known anyone to seemingly hide their fascination with it like he is apparently doing. The theatre kids at this school can sometimes feel like they're trying a bit too hard, as if some random lockers are going to open up and camera crew is going to appear with Christopher Nolan or somebody equally as famous and important to whisk them far away from all us undeserving extras in the story of their lives.

"Hey." I whispered. I don't know why. Then I pointed toward his bag. "Why don't you work with the drama department?" I also don't know why I decided to suddenly sound so formal.

"I'm a writer. I don't really have any interest in, uh, acting as such." He gave me a sort of disgusted kind of expression. "It's been hard enough acting like I don't know what's going on between, uh, you know..."

"Harry and Sally?"

"Yeah, them. I like being behind the scenes."

"Like behind the camera with, um, Harry."

"Yeah." He nodded. "I didn't break anything ever, I swear."

"I believe you."

"Huh. Odd." He pursed his lips and stuck out his chin, rubbing at the bits of fuzz hanging from it with his fingers. "Cause I did mess it up one time. Not bad, I mean, but it was a little broken."

"Guess you can act when you want to. You do have an actor-y face."

"I don't know what that means."

I hadn't said what I had said to be of any real importance, but as his eyes caught mine I realized that the words I had said to him had a meaning that was both completely innocent and yet very not-so-innocent at all. Stuart Crane had a rugged handsomeness that, if he did ever want to act, would presumably at least get him in the door at auditions whether he could pull off the line readings or not. He was, again, very tall, blonde, and...and this is the problematic part for me...actually reasonably cute in his own Golden Retriever kind of way.

Nope.

I couldn't keep my brain on this track.

Not with him sitting one seat away and staring at me waiting for me to explain myself.

I had to deflect.

"What I meant was..." I looked around the room. "...I'm sure now that everybody knows that you and Montana aren't, like, dating you'll probably have girls crawling all over you."

He rolled his eyes, but I could see hints of redness blooming in his cheeks. "I hope not. I do still have to deal with her. I don't think I could handle any other girls."

He slumped back in his seat and shook his head. He was back to mumbling. I caught myself watching him for the rest of homeroom to see if anything would betray his true feelings.

Yes, Stuart, you definitely don't think you could handle any other girls. You don't want to handle any other girls. You only want to handle me.

With your actor-y face and your Golden Retriever way.

The bell rang for us to move to first period.

"Are we going to see you two at lunch?" I asked as we stood up. "There's no rain today."

Stuart grinned. It was a sly grin that wished it could be full of deception but instead was dripping with silent joy at what he had just been asked.  "Could still be a storm."

Sigh.

So much for deflecting.