The Revenge Artist - Philip Siegel Page 0,17
done.
Mr. S observes my sweeping skills, scratching his beard with interest. I develop a limp to give my character more depth.
“Try connecting with the other actors,” he says in his calm voice.
“But I’m a janitor.”
“Give it a shot. Let go and see where the scene takes you. Because right now, this is a boring one-woman show.” He strolls off to a pair of guys getting into a mock argument. Or maybe it’s a real one. Either way, Mr. S runs toward the action, and I search out a scene partner.
Leo sits and writes in his notebook. Acting, I’m sure. He’s the only sophomore in the class, and that plus his delicate features gives him a “world’s little brother” vibe. He made the effort to act with me, so I should reciprocate.
“I think you dropped this, sir.” I hold out something imaginary to him. Probably a wallet. I’m still getting the hang of this.
He slams his notebook shut so fast a breeze ruffles my hair. “Thanks.”
“You know, this terminal is so dirty.” I’m terrible at small talk, both in real life and improv.
“Well, I’m a multimillionaire, and I love you, and I want to marry you so you can quit your job right now.”
“What about your wife and soon-to-be eight kids?”
“Divorced.”
I sit on his lap. “I love you, rich husband!” This acting stuff can be fun, especially when it makes my partner this uncomfortable.
“Off, please. Sorry, I’m not that good of an actor,” Leo says. “Do you think this is the new normal of Theater Arts?”
“It’s still better than calculus.”
“I guess.” He shrugs with that same worried expression on his cute, puffy face that I’ve seen on random glances.
“So, what are you working on?” I tap his notebook. As if on cue, he drops it on the floor and hides it with his feet.
“Nothing. Just homework.”
“A successful marriage isn’t built on lies.”
“You’re just with me for my money.”
“I can’t be with you for the sex.”
He blushes red and laughs. Redheads blush at everything. I can tell he’s holding something back, the way he lingers on me for an extra second.
I should leave it be. Except that he’s the world’s little brother, and I feel this instant comfort with him. Isn’t that how it happens with people? When you meet someone, you just know if you’re going to be friends the way that birds know to fly in that V pattern.
“So, what’s up?” I ask. “You okay?”
He shuffles in his seat and takes a moment to think on my question. “Can I ask you something? You do matchmaking, right?”
“Relationship engineering, technically.”
“Do you think you could help me out?” He squeaks out the question.
“Is there someone you like?” I feel my eyes light up, like the moment the lights dim at the movies.
Leo nods yes and motions me to lean in. “Dominick Salsano.”
He sure knows how to aim high. Dominick is the sexy star of the school soccer team, with flowing black hair, crystal blue eyes, and a body that’s meant to be stared at. And he’s totally gay, so sorry, ladies.
“You like him? Dominick?” My voice goes a few octaves too high. Who wouldn’t want to get with Dominick Salsano?
“No. I think I love him.”
“Love?” I whisper-ask in a “come on now” tone.
“Maybe. For the past year, I’ve walked past him in the halls, sat across from him in class, watched him play soccer, attended Gay-Straight Alliance meetings with him. I feel like I know him, even though I’ve said a total of thirty-one words to him in my life.”
I should roll my eyes at Leo. He sounds like Val at the beginning of her crushes. But conviction lights up his face. There’s no winking, no joke at the end. He believes this with an earnestness that I can’t mock. Maybe it is possible to fall for a guy through repeated exposure without ever talking to him.
“I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but this is Dominick Salsano. Insanely cute. Insanely popular. He’s a cool gay. The cool gay never dates the nerdy gay.”
“You’re not a nerdy gay. You’re an adorable, irresistible gay.”
“I’m a nobody gay. Whenever he shows up at GSA meetings, he doesn’t even look my way, except when I manage to sputter out something stupid. I doubt he even knows my name. He probably thinks I’m straight.” Leo hides his head under his hands. “My life is a Taylor Swift song.”
He slumps back into his seat, exhausted from the hopeless yearning for Dominick. It’s such a foreign feeling