Baby Steps

Chapter Four

The cold winter morning brings a gust of wind whooshing past me. I bunch the fabric of my shirt on either side as I hurried to my first-period class. As I weave between people, I notice Kyle sprinting towards me with a grin.

When he shoves past the last group of students separating us, he hooks his arm around my neck. I fall into his side which doesn’t seem to bother him.

“Please don’t be weird about this,” I beg.

“Since I’m your friend, I get to be.” He laughs.

As I shove Kyle away, he springs back with an even wider grin plastered on his smug face. We continued to walk side by side, but I quicken my pace to get this awful moment over.

“So, indulge me with details, how did things go at his house?”

“Fine? I tried to help him with London and then I left.”

“Nothing else?” Kyle curiously raises his eyebrows.

“Should something else have happened?” I question.

“Uh, of course not.” He scoffs.

I notice that Kyle glances away during his reply which makes me curious - am I missing something?

“Then why the interrogation?” I frown.

“I’m not interrogating you.” Kyle huffs. “Why can’t I just ask how things went?”

“Because you’re being weird about it; like there’s something you know I don’t,” I reply.

“Now you’re being weird, Ava,” he comments.

“Whatever.” I shrug. “I’ll see you later. Enjoy home ec, can you maybe save me something from what you make today?”

“It depends on how the cooking process turns out.” He laughs. “I’ve been repaired with someone who knows less about cooking than I do.”

“Fair point.” I chuckle.

Kyle waves goodbye and then races towards his class. I glanced towards the door of the drama room and dramatically sighed.

Since the classes are smaller, home economics quickly filled up. By the time I handed the form in, I was left with just two options for this block, art and drama.

The only artistic person in my family was Logan, he must have sucked up all the art genes because the best I can do is draw crooked shapes and stick figures. Somehow, this seemed like a better alternative.

Flying colours isn’t a necessity, just a passing mark to graduate will suffice. I’m aiming for a minor role for the end of year production so that it’ll be an easier pass to achieve.

Although, everyone was forced to audition for a leading role. The idea of being cast as a starring role is exciting but I don’t think I was good enough.

I yanked the door open and stroll into the bustling classroom. Towards the back of the classroom, I find a spare space of the wall to lean on.

The teacher hasn’t arrived, so I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I listen to the chatter filling the room which isn’t that interesting, just noisy.

I roughly bang my bone into the wall when a hand softly touches my shoulder. Glancing to the side, I see Blake smiling at me.

“Sorry about that,” he apologizes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just wasn’t expecting it,” I admit. “So, how’s London?”

Blake keeps his knees bent and spaced while his arms crossed over and leans against his knees.

“She’s great.” He smiles. “We’re sort of getting there, I mean she’ll drink from the bottle now which is making things easier.”

“Aw, I’m happy to hear that.”

“Although, I do have one favour to ask from you,” he says.

Blake claims that I’m his last hope, so I can’t say no now.

“Sure, what is it?” I tug on a smile.

“Just know that you can say no,” he begins. “Would you be available to babysit at any point? I’m falling behind in my studies and I need some time to catch up. I can’t afford to pay you, but I could cook you dinner.”

I’m beginning to think I’ll never be able to say no - but food does sound good.

“When did you want me to help? I could come over in a couple of days?”

“Whenever you’re free.” He smiles.

“Okay, I’ll figure something out.”

When the teacher walks into the room, everyone automatically turns their attention to her.

“Good morning class! I’ve finalized roles for the end of year production. As I hand the scripts out, your main and understudy role will be marked in the top left corner,” she explains.

One by one, the teacher hands the scripts out. She passes one script to a young male who openly shows his irritation by grumbling aloud about his part. Although, she subtly chuckles and continues along.

“The performance will be presented at the end of the year for your parents and peers. The money from submission tickets will be donated to a charity of the class’s choosing,” she says. “As you already know, it’s a love story about a princess and prince trying to be together.”

When I’m handed my script, my eyes dart to the top of the page. In a scribbled, messy black writing, it states I have the maiden along with the understudy role for the princess.

I gasped with surprise as the maid’s role is a decent position. Certainly not bad for someone who’s new to the game of acting. Although, the princess role would have been nice.

Let’s be honest, everyone wants a shot in the spotlight, even if it’s for a glimpse.

The teacher passes another script to Blake and smiles.

In a low tone, she says, “You have cast the position of the prince because of your talent for theatrics. If it’s too much, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Mrs Sharn,” he says.

With a hopeful smile, she moves towards the next cluster of students eagerly waiting.

“What part did you get?”

“Maiden and understudy to the princess,” I answer. “The prince role is impressive.”

“I’d have been happy with a tree,” he admits.

“A bright green face and tights sound terrible.” However, I internally smile at the thought of Blake wearing the tights. I bet he’d look really good in them.

“When you come over, we could practice our lines,” he offers, a slight tilt to his head.

“Sounds like a good idea.” I smile.

Our conversation is interrupted when another girl from the class wandes over. As she looks down at us, Megan’s brown hair brushes over her shoulder.

“Hi, Blake, remember me? I’m Megan, we’re co-starring,” she explains

“Hey, Megan.” He awkwardly half waves.

“Do you want to practice now?” she offers, her bright smile never faltering.

He shrugs his shoulders, a bored expression consuming his face, “Sure.”

“Great!” Megan sounds overly excited, which sends a shiver down my spine.

Blake turns and says, “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.”

Blake follows Megan to her group of friends while I’m left alone. Oh, the joys of having no friends in the same class as you. Hell, I could be cooking cupcakes if I’d just handed the stupid form in sooner.

I flick through the pages, my eyes fell upon random words, but nothing more than that. Shaking my head, I try to focus my vision on the page, but even that doesn’t work.

I’m drawn back to gazing at Blake.

He’s in the middle of the group half enthused about something. Everyone seems drawn to his energy, like a moth to a light source. Blake waves his arms in the air which makes Megan’s eyes grow wide with excitement. I don’t know how he does it, but he knows how to draw people in.

Blake is like the hot fiery sun; heats you up but the radiation glow from his presence, but as soon as he leaves, it feels cold. Blake was beginning to feel like the sun, and I, a planet senselessly orbiting without a known cause.

Blake Pierce, what are you doing to me?