Page 34 of Method Acting

I ignored that.

Tater looked confused. “I dunno if I could ever be an actor. Having to kiss your costar. I mean, what if you hated them? What if they ate tuna and pickled onions for lunch?” He made a face. “Or what if they had poor dental hygiene? Or if they were just a terrible person? I could never pretend to like someone who made fun of other people.”

He was such a sweet guy.

“That’s why it’s called acting.” But then I conceded. “And there are general rules and etiquette for brushing teeth etcetera before you suck face.”

Jimmy’s eyes cut to mine. “Have you kissed Amos yet?”

I didn’t even have to answer out loud. Apparently just looking at him was enough.

“Oh, this is perfect,” he said, clapping his hands. “So did you kiss him? Or did he kiss you?”

That time I sighed. “We practiced,” I replied. “They’re called intimacy exercises. It sounds dirty, but it’s just stuff like touching, holding hands, and just being comfortable in their personal space.”

“So there was no tongue?” Jimmy pressed.

“No, there was no tongue. You perv.”

There was no way I was telling them how I’d almost given him tongue. How I’d had to stop myself from slipping my tongue into his mouth.

“It’s not like that,” I added. “We’re professionals. Well, we’re not paid for this, but we take it seriously. It’s worth a good chunk of our semester grade. We have to nail this.”

I knew I’d said the wrong thing as soon as I’d said it.

“Shut up, Jimmy,” I said before he could open his mouth. He snorted instead.

“So when do we meet him?” Tater asked. “Officially, I mean. Are you bringing him here? And the film crew? Will I be in anything? I’ll have to let my mom know to watch.”

“I don’t know how much you guys’ll be in it,” I answered. “Probably not much. Maybe just background stuff, like extras. But if we go to the bar or the coffee shop... It’s more about us. There are four couples. Three romantic couples, one set of best friends.”

“So, tell me,” Jimmy said. “How did you and emo-boy’s characters meet? You’re not exactly running in the same circles.”

“It’s in our character briefs,” I replied. “We met in drama class.”

He grinned at me. “So, do your character briefs say which one of you tops or bottoms?”

“Hey, Jimmy,” I deadpanned. “Fuck all the way off.”

“I told my friends,” I said.

Amos and I were sitting on the floor in the drama room. We were supposed to be acting as if we were home alone watching TV. He had his legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. I tapped his knee. “Open your legs.”

He did a double take. “I beg your pardon?”

“Move your leg,” I said, physically moving his legs apart so I could lay down between his legs, my back to his chest. I snuggled in a little, using his upper pec as a pillow. “That’s better.”

“Are you comfortable?” he deadpanned.

“I am now. And shush, we’re supposed to be watching TV.” I pointed to the non-existent television. “I love this episode.”

He leaned back on his hands, and I did my very best to feel any particular hard bits that might have jabbed me in the lower back, but I was disappointed...

“So you told your friends about what?”

“About us.”

“What exactly about us did you tell them?”

---