Page 17 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
“Thanks.”
I follow her back to the stage, ordering myself to get it together and put on a spectacular performance because I really don’t need her or anyone digging into my life. I know she means well, but some things are meant to be kept to myself.
Eric’s eyes slowly slide to mine, a curious expression on his face. All my resolve crumbles to my feet. Why does a single look from him cause me such anxiety? Will I ever get over The Incident?
“Okay, let’s carry on,” Miss Diaz announces.
Eric and I sit down at the small table the props department set up, where Beast and Belle read a book together. Our chairs are a bit too far from each other. I catch Eric glance at the space, then twist his lips like he’s trying to decide if he should move closer to me. But he remains where he is.
“Ready, Katie and Eric.”
I close my eyes and empty my mind, shoving all those negative thoughts and feelings away. When I open them, I’m no longer Katie Lane but Belle, and the guy sitting next to me is not Eric Palmer but Beast. With this attitude, I put on one heck of a performance.
Miss Diaz’s applause is so loud it echoes off the walls. “Brava, Eric and Katie. Amazing.”
A proud smile teases Eric’s lips, and he looks at me like he wants to share the joy. But the smile quickly vanishes from his face and he turns his head away.
Luckily, the scene is over and Miss Diaz calls for Eric to sing “If I Can’t Love Her.” I scurry off the stage and plunk down in my seat, scolding myself for being weird again.
Eric sings the song flawlessly. Beautifully. The whole audience is completely entrapped by him. My gaze is planted on him, reveling in his stunning voice. Until his eyes shift over to me. I don’t think he meant to look at me, because he quickly pries them away.
It takes all I have not to bash my head against the back of the seat in front of me.
Chapter Six
Eric
As soon as Miss Diaz dismisses us for the day, Katie throws her backpack over her shoulder and rushes out of the room like there’s a fire.
Flinging my backpack over my back, I hurry after her. She’s fast, halfway down the hallway by the time I leave the auditorium.
“Katie!” I call. “Wait up!”
She skids to a stop and slowly turns around, her eyes growing large with shock and confusion—and maybe unease—as I edge closer to her.
“Hey,” I say, playing with the straps of my backpack.
Her gaze drops to her shoes. “Hi.”
Can she…not even stand looking at me now? It makes me feel…I don’t know. Not good. I didn’t realize it matters that much to me how she views me.
“Um…” I rub the back of my neck. “Can we talk?”
A mixture of relief and trepidation dances across her face. “I guess. I mean, sure.”
I peek into the classroom near us, thankfully finding it empty. Then I pull it open and motion for her to enter.
Her eyes look past me nervously, and she bites on her bottom lip. A breath gets caught in my chest. What did I do to make her feel so uncomfortable around me? It’s really messing me up.
After swallowing hard, she moves past me to enter the room, her arm brushing against mine. She jerks back like I contaminated her.
“Sorry,” I say.
“It’s fine,” she mutters as she walks into the classroom.
I lower myself onto one of the desks, gesturing for her to do the same. She takes the one across from me, tucking one leg behind the other and playing with her hair. Her hand shakes a bit.
We sit in silence for a little while. Actually, it’s more than that. She stares down at the writing part of the desk. I look at her, look away, look at her, then away again. I open my mouth a few times to say something, but the words just get jumbled in my head. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing and make things even worse than they are.
