ripples through the air every time we step into a room together. It’s as if everyone’s praying that we’ll fight. Or fuck. Or both.
Is my facade so flawless that she believes there’s any chance in hell I can perform with him again?
I glance at Holt. He’s staring at the whiteboard with a similar shell-shocked expression.
“Miss Taylor?” Erika says, louder. “Is there a problem?”
Most people have packed up and left, but the few who remain go silent, as if frightened that if they move, they’ll scare off the drama that’s about to happen.
“Erika … I just—” How can I say this without everyone … him … realizing how weak I am? “The groups for scene work. I’m not sure I can be in that group.”
Jack and Aiyah are lingering near the door. Lucas is pretending to fiddle with his shoelace. Phoebe and Zoe are keeping one eye on their phones as they slyly watch us. Erika politely tells them all to get out.
Then she turns to Ethan.
“Mr. Holt? Perhaps you should join us. I have a feeling this might have something to do with you.”
Ethan tenses his jaw and unfurls himself from his chair. As he slings his backpack onto his shoulder and walks over, goose bumps prickle my skin.
“Now,” Erika says when he’s standing as far from me as he can without making me look like a plague carrier, “why exactly can’t you work in the group to which you’ve been assigned, Miss Taylor?”
She knows, yet she wants me to say it. In front of him. Sometimes, I think she enjoys watching us squirm.
“I just don’t think me and…” I can’t say his name. If I say it, both he and Erika will see how not over him I am. “I don’t think having both of us in a group would be very fair to other members. There would be … tension.”
Erika looks between us. I don’t look at Holt, but I sense his frown.
“Mr. Holt? Do you agree?”
“Yes. There would definitely be tension.”
“So, you both expect me to give you preferential treatment because working together would be uncomfortable?”
Neither of us answers. That’s exactly what we expect, but saying so would make us seem like selfish assholes.
Erika sighs. “I want to make it clear that during your careers, you’ll have to work with many people you don’t like. People you’d rather avoid. But you can’t run away every time things become difficult. Plus, you’re asking me to give you special treatment simply because you’re no longer dating. If I do this for you, I’ll be setting a precedent that will quickly become a major pain in my ass.”
I know what she’s saying is true, but I still want her to do it.
Ethan and I say nothing. Our silent pleading speaks volumes.
Erika sighs again. “Because of the mix of characters I’ve assigned within each group, the only person I could swap Mr. Holt with would be Mr. Bain.” Ethan tenses. “Would that be acceptable to both of you?”
Ethan asks, “What kind of scenes are we doing?”
Erika’s onto him. “Does it matter? Either you want to stay in Miss Taylor’s group or swap with Connor. What will it be?”
I say, “Swap,” at exactly the same time Ethan says, “Stay.” Then to make sure we truly embarrassed ourselves, we do it again, louder.
Ethan and I stare each other down. It’s the first time we’ve really looked at each other in the past eight and a half weeks. My face and body flush with fierce heat.
It doesn’t escape my attention that Ethan’s ears have also gone bright pink.
“Fine. Whatever,” he says, waving his hand. “Swap me with Connor. Do whatever she wants.”
“Oh, no, by all means, keep Holt in my group. What he wants is far more important.”
“I don’t want this,” he says as he steps closer, “but we both know it’s for the best.”
“Are we still talking about the acting groups? Because if not, I know no such thing.”
Erika rolls her eyes and grabs her folder off the desk. “I don’t have time for this. Give me your decision by the
Is my facade so flawless that she believes there’s any chance in hell I can perform with him again?
I glance at Holt. He’s staring at the whiteboard with a similar shell-shocked expression.
“Miss Taylor?” Erika says, louder. “Is there a problem?”
Most people have packed up and left, but the few who remain go silent, as if frightened that if they move, they’ll scare off the drama that’s about to happen.
“Erika … I just—” How can I say this without everyone … him … realizing how weak I am? “The groups for scene work. I’m not sure I can be in that group.”
Jack and Aiyah are lingering near the door. Lucas is pretending to fiddle with his shoelace. Phoebe and Zoe are keeping one eye on their phones as they slyly watch us. Erika politely tells them all to get out.
Then she turns to Ethan.
“Mr. Holt? Perhaps you should join us. I have a feeling this might have something to do with you.”
Ethan tenses his jaw and unfurls himself from his chair. As he slings his backpack onto his shoulder and walks over, goose bumps prickle my skin.
“Now,” Erika says when he’s standing as far from me as he can without making me look like a plague carrier, “why exactly can’t you work in the group to which you’ve been assigned, Miss Taylor?”
She knows, yet she wants me to say it. In front of him. Sometimes, I think she enjoys watching us squirm.
“I just don’t think me and…” I can’t say his name. If I say it, both he and Erika will see how not over him I am. “I don’t think having both of us in a group would be very fair to other members. There would be … tension.”
Erika looks between us. I don’t look at Holt, but I sense his frown.
“Mr. Holt? Do you agree?”
“Yes. There would definitely be tension.”
“So, you both expect me to give you preferential treatment because working together would be uncomfortable?”
Neither of us answers. That’s exactly what we expect, but saying so would make us seem like selfish assholes.
Erika sighs. “I want to make it clear that during your careers, you’ll have to work with many people you don’t like. People you’d rather avoid. But you can’t run away every time things become difficult. Plus, you’re asking me to give you special treatment simply because you’re no longer dating. If I do this for you, I’ll be setting a precedent that will quickly become a major pain in my ass.”
I know what she’s saying is true, but I still want her to do it.
Ethan and I say nothing. Our silent pleading speaks volumes.
Erika sighs again. “Because of the mix of characters I’ve assigned within each group, the only person I could swap Mr. Holt with would be Mr. Bain.” Ethan tenses. “Would that be acceptable to both of you?”
Ethan asks, “What kind of scenes are we doing?”
Erika’s onto him. “Does it matter? Either you want to stay in Miss Taylor’s group or swap with Connor. What will it be?”
I say, “Swap,” at exactly the same time Ethan says, “Stay.” Then to make sure we truly embarrassed ourselves, we do it again, louder.
Ethan and I stare each other down. It’s the first time we’ve really looked at each other in the past eight and a half weeks. My face and body flush with fierce heat.
It doesn’t escape my attention that Ethan’s ears have also gone bright pink.
“Fine. Whatever,” he says, waving his hand. “Swap me with Connor. Do whatever she wants.”
“Oh, no, by all means, keep Holt in my group. What he wants is far more important.”
“I don’t want this,” he says as he steps closer, “but we both know it’s for the best.”
“Are we still talking about the acting groups? Because if not, I know no such thing.”
Erika rolls her eyes and grabs her folder off the desk. “I don’t have time for this. Give me your decision by the
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