deeply appreciative to be sitting across from a guy like Vann. There’s no doubt about it anymore. This guy is who I’ve begged for through so many sleepless nights for the past however many years, someone to call a real friend, a loyal companion.
On the other hand, a friendship with him could mean I’ll always be a step away from sitting in a police station somewhere, handcuffed, and waiting my turn to explain why three of Spruce’s top athletes are in the other room with bloody noses.
Maybe that’s a risk I’m willing to take with Vann. “It’s not just a hick high school,” I decide to say. “Nor is this a simpleton town.”
Vann has finished his lunch by now and is chugging a bottle of water. Its plastic crunches as he sets it down. “That so?”
“Maybe you just haven’t seen the better parts of Spruce yet.”
“Spruce has better parts?”
That makes me laugh somehow. “Yes, it does! Awesome parts, in fact. And people. You just … have to know where to find them.”
“Hmm,” is all he says before going for another chug of water. I watch him as he swallows. He could model, I catch myself thinking, staring shamelessly at his neck as it dances, strong and confident. I wonder if he realizes how beautiful he is, even if it isn’t a conventional kind of beauty. He looks like he’s from somewhere else, yet feels familiar when I look in his eyes. And his face can be so inviting and sweet …
When he’s not scowling angrily, that is.
It’s no time at all before my mind sweeps right back to the whole Vann-being-my-escort-home thing. Should I ask if that includes him crashing at my place? Or should I just let it happen naturally? Did he really have no problem sharing my twin bed, or was he being polite? Is a person like Vann ever “polite”, or does he always speak his mind with blunt, untempered honesty? I should definitely ask him. I should make it a certain thing, a plan, him staying the night at my house every Friday … and maybe Saturdays, too. I mean, if he really wants to go through all of that trouble …
Wait. Am I insane? What am I even talking about?
Suddenly, I’ve seemed to set loose a whole lepidopterarium of butterflies in my stomach. I have just annihilated the rest of my appetite, anxious now over what I should say or ask or do. Why does Vann excite me as much as he scares me? What if he really is a dangerous person, and I’m playing with fire here …?
The bell catches me before I’m ready for it. “Well, guess this is it,” Vann grunts without looking at me. He takes his tray. “See you later at rehearsal, Toby.” With that—and while I’m fumbling for a reply of any kind—he rises from the table and leaves.
“S-See ya,” I finally manage to say long after he’s gone.
All the questions I could’ve asked or topics I could’ve chatted about die quick deaths on the vacated lunch table. I stare at my half-eaten pasta and breadstick, which I took exactly one bite out of, with tumbling excitement in my heart. Something really big is happening here between me and Vann. Something important. I just have to figure out what the hell that is.
Wait a sec. Did he say rehearsal?
09 | VANN
So Toby wants me to notice the better parts of this town.
Good luck with that.
After a boring seventh period study hall, I make my way to the auditorium. On my way down the long crowded halls to the theater, I notice girls slowing to let their gazes linger on me. One of them clutches her books tighter against her chest. Another one runs a hand through her hair, batting her eyes. Two of them giggle as soon as I pass by them, their faces cherry red. I wonder if these are the finer parts of Spruce I’m supposed to notice. You know, that every girl in this school is apparently incorrigibly horny.
The auditorium is buzzing with energy when I come in. While there are faces scattered among the seats, most of them aren’t in the cast, I come to learn. They’re just here to listen to the first day read-through, for which a table has been erected on the stage. I go up the steps to the stage and take a seat at the table where three other cast members have gathered, as well as Tamika, who greets me