Page 93 of Method Acting

Amos brushed past me. “He does. With magnetic tentacles that strangle me all night.”

I slung my arm around him as we began our way down the stairs. “And you love every minute.”

Amos leveled a glare at me that told me in no uncertain terms that he did, in fact, not love every minute. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll make it up to you. What do you want for breakfast?”

“To be left alone.”

“Well, sure. I can do that. If being alone includes me.”

He sighed. “You’re insufferable.”

“Some people would call me cute or charming.”

“They don’t know you like I do.”

“No, they do not. No one knows me like you do.”

I wasn’t sure why I said that, but once the words were out, I realized it was the truth.

Amos glanced my way and sighed, and as I held the door for him into the dining hall, he rolled his eyes. But he also kinda smiled, so I was taking it as a win.

He went to the table where the others were, and I went in search of coffee and those muffins he liked, and once I’d secured the goods, I slid into the seat beside him.

He was now watching something on his phone while everyone watched him. And then I realized what he was actually watching.

Me, being filmed at the bar last night.

Jimmy calling me “totally fucking whipped” as I, clearly drunk and all smiles, flipped him the bird before walking out. Jimmy roared laughing, then looked right at the camera and said, “That idiot is so in love and doesn’t even know it.”

To a view count of twenty thousand people and rising.

Amos hit Stop and turned his phone upside down on the table. His cheeks were pink, the tips of his ears too.

I was still trying to process what Jimmy had said...

I was going to kill him.

“Well, he’s off my Christmas card list,” I said, putting a cup of coffee in front of Amos. “Clearly he’s full of shit. And he was drunk, and I hope he’s so hung over he pukes for two days.”

Amos’s eyes met mine.

“What?” I said, putting his muffin in front of him. “He called me an idiot.”

Like that was what we all took from what Jimmy had said.

Well, it’s what I was taking from it while trying to pretend everyone at the table wasn’t staring at me and that I wasn’t embarrassed and dying inside.

“I got you blueberry,” I mumbled. “I got chocolate if you want to swap.”

“Okay, cut,” Daniel said as he lowered his camera.

I groaned. “I’m sorry. And for what it’s worth, you can show the police that video if they ask what reason I could possibly have had for killing Jimmy with my bare hands.”

Deirdre came up to us, oblivious to the awkwardness. “Okay, guys, we’ll meet in the rehearsal hall after lunch. One o’clock. Don’t be late.”

She gathered up the camera folks and they left, and there was silence at the table. “So,” Jess said, looking right at me. “That was great for ratings.”

I groaned and looked at everyone around the table. “If anyone else would like to embarrass themselves live on camera instead of me, that’d be great. I mean, I can’t keep carrying the ratings like this. It’s supposed to be a team effort. Someone else needs to pick up the slack. Come on, guys. Be fair.”

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