Page 18 of Method Acting

“Tomorrow we take a deeper look at character assessment and the relationships between all of you, couples included. The rest of you should be okay because your relationships are emerging as the production begins, but Chase and Amos,” she said, looking right at us. “Your characters have been together for a year. I need you to be comfortable with each other. Close, touching, and it needs to look natural. Tomorrow there will be more intimacy exercises for you both.”

“Yay,” I deadpanned sarcastically. “Can’t wait.”

The class dissipated and I turned to find Amos already walking over to collect his bag.

“So,” I hedged. “Homework . . .”

“If you think I’m hanging out with you and your friends, you’re delusional.”

“What’s wrong with my friends?”

“Nothing. I’m sure they’re great guys.” His left eyebrow quirked up then flattened. It gave the impression that he did not, in fact, think my friends were great guys. “Just not my scene.”

“And what is your scene?”

His gaze cut to mine, as if he actually considered telling me the truth about what he spent his time doing. But then he schooled that brief flicker of honesty away and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

“I gotta work tonight.”

“Why didn’t you say that?”

“I just did.”

I groaned. God, he was so frustrating. “Well, we gotta spend time together whether we like it or not. What time do you finish?”

He pulled his phone out and thumbed through a few screens. “Eight.”

“Then I shall see you at eight.”

“I have two hours now if you . . .”

“I told the guys I’d hit the gym with them before I knew we’d have homework.”

He made a face, as if even the thought of going to a gym smelled bad. “I thought you said you weren’t a jock.”

“I’m not.” I pulled up my shirt and showed him my abs. “But I like to look good, and maintaining a six-pack is hard work.”

He rolled his eyes. “You really are going for the Hollywood generic, aren’t you?”

I dropped my shirt, a little pissed that he wasn’t the slightest bit impressed. “Oh, come on, even you have to admit these are hot.”

“Sure. If you want to look like a fossilized trilobite.”

I deflated, because damn. Ouch. “Now I’m sad.”

Of course that made him smile. “I’m sure your friends will give you the bro ego-boost circle jerk or bro-jobs, or whatever it is gym bros do.”

“If you could please give me the name and address of any gym that you know of that does bro-jobs, please let me know.”

He rolled his eyes and walked out.

“See you at eight!” I yelled after him.

“Only because I don’t have a choice,” he replied before he was out the door and gone.

I sighed to the now-empty room, collected my bag, and dragged my feet to the gym.

“Hey, man,” Jimmy said. He gave me a second look. “What’s up?”

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