10. My Personal Plot Twist

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Thatcher smiles at me when he sees me, and I hide my excitement and the flutter in my chest when I meet him on stage before Mrs. Permala's daily warm-up.

"Good news," he says. "I just had English, and I was right: There's a pop quiz."

"How was it?" I ask.

"Easy. I got all the questions right, so I hope you do well too. Want to meet up again tonight to read and practice?"

"Yeah, definitely," I say, but I'm immediately embarrassed by how excited I sound.

He laughs a bit. "Great, I can't wait. How about somewhere different this time, though?" he asks. "Not at my house, maybe."

I smile at this. "We can try over at my house tonight. I'll message you if that's okay with my mom, but fair warning: we will have to be in my mom's sight."

"If not, I'll bring gloves this time. Just in case we have to get together by the bushes in your backyard again."

"And a hat."

"And boots." His expression suddenly changes as if something important has just popped into his head. His eyes and mouth widen, and then he starts to smile. "You know what? My dad has a shed."

"Are you really suggesting that we practice in a shed?"

"Yeah. Actually, let's just do that, because my dad won't even notice. He never goes outside. My brothers use the shed over the summer for a clubhouse, and they don't need to know we're borrowing it," he says.

"Okay, but if you're serious, you'll have to show up at my house to walk me to your house. My mom will never let me sit alone with a boy in a shed outside."

He smiles. "I can do that."

"Alright my thespians," Mrs. Permala announces as the bell rings to start class, "time to warm up."

"Okay, the shed it is," I say, trying to suppress the warmth in my chest.

We run through the warm-ups, and all the while, Thatcher and I face each other. From around Thatcher's shoulder—since I can't actually see above this tree guy's shoulder—I see Patti checking on us. She smiles a big, open mouthed grin, and I know I have to be blushing. I don't want her and Gina to get any satisfaction from knowing that Thatcher and I had a really great night together last night, so I try to practice denying it. I start by fluttering and rolling my eyes at Patti from across the stage. She smiles and turns away.

After our warm-up we break into our groups and Thatcher starts our rehearsal by saying, "I'm going to help you memorize your lines. I'm going to read your line, and you're going to repeat after me five times. Don't look at the words, they'll just confuse you if you're anything like my brother. Just listen and repeat."

But just before we can get started, Mrs. Permala stops us all with an announcement. "Attention," she calls.

I look up into the audience where Mrs. Permala stands next to someone, but I can't see the girl's face with the lights shining right in my eyes. A new student, maybe. When I shift my stance to see who it is, my eyebrows nearly fly off my face in surprise. Patti turns back to me with the same gaped mouth smile she wore earlier.

"Attention, my thespians. We have a new student to our class. Her name is Gina Romano. Please welcome her into our family of actors."

Gina smiles sneakily at me. Why didn't she tell me she was joining theater?

But then I remember Patti's concern about Layla Monroe trying to steal me from our group to get the numbers right for the one act they've been fighting over, and I dart my eyes back across the stage to Patti. It looks like she's figured out the numbers too. Her wide mouth grin is now frozen in panic, and from behind me, I hear Thatcher say, "shit," under his breath.

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