Page 4 of Private Tutoring
Hallelujah. This time, I couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged my lips apart. “I know them.”
“No kidding.” She muttered it under her breath, but my office had the unique ability to amplify sound, and it brought her beautiful voice right to my ears.
Harmony tucked her blonde hair behind her ears and shifted her weight from foot to foot. She was never this hesitant on stage.
Was it being here with me that caused the lines in her forehead or something else? I stopped from asking, since that question was far too personal.
Students walked across the room, a few of them making more than one pass when they spotted me talking to Harmony. Nothing piqued a theater student’s interest like a good story.
I waved my hand at them. “Start warming up. I’ll be there in a minute.”
They scrambled amid chattering laughter at getting caught.
Harmony strangled the strap slung over her chest. It cut between her breasts, pushing them forward in a move I’d think was meant to tempt me if some of the other girls did it.
Not Harmony. She’d never given any indication that she was interested in me, which suited me just fine.
My career wasn’t worth a roll in the sheets with a student. “Do you want me to talk to them? We’re close friends.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Everyone knows you’re friends. If I suddenly go from failing to passing after this conversation, everyone’s going to think you did something.” She chewed the inside of her cheek again.
My fingers convulsed with a sudden desire to pinch her chin so she’d stop tearing herself up. “I didn’t mean I’d ask them to change your grades. Maybe they can help you with the work. Help figure out what you’re not understanding.”
“I don’t understand why I need the classes in the first place.” Her arms raised, then fell to her sides with hard slaps against her thighs. “I just want to sing.”
“Then let me talk to them.” I rooted my feet in the carpet to keep from standing and taking a step toward her.
She peered at me through thick lashes, another move most girls tried to use against me but that seemed perfectly innocent when Harmony did it. “Thank you.” She took a step backward, then turned. “I have to go.”
There was nothing I could do to stop her, and I had no more reasons to have her in my office. I nodded at her departure and walked out behind her, letting every nearby student see us leaving the office. Rumors were part of my life, and they abounded no matter how pristine my record.
But we all did what we could to mitigate any allegations. I sent out a group text to Roberto and Stephen, telling them I needed to run something by them tonight at dinner.
Roberto sent me a thumbs-up emoji, while Stephen answered with anOkaythat made me laugh. How the three of us were friends, especially for so long that we’d moved in together, was a miracle.
I walked out onto the stage and clapped. “All right. Let’s get started. Who read the entire play?”
Two hands shot into the air. The rest of the class shuffled and stared at the wooden floor. Dust motes danced in the spotlights aimed at the stage. I always had them on when class was going. It helped my students prepare for opening night and gave them a chance to understand what they’d be dealing with if they chose to follow this career professionally.
“Anyone care to tell me why you didn’t read it?” I paced back and forth in front of them. Most of my classes started out in a similar way. The new students tested me to see what they could get away with.
One girl raised her hand, and I pointed at her. “Yes?”
She flushed red. Her friends elbowed her, their laughter giving me a warning to what might come next. “Is it true that you’re part of the group called the Dream Team?”
Sighing, I set my hands on my hips and used my best professor voice. “What you say and do outside of this classroom is none of my business. I’m friends with all of the professors, and it’s both unkind and unprofessional to address a group of us like that.”
“Sounds like a compliment to me, man.” One of guys rolled his eyes. “Only someone like you would make it sound awful.”
Someone like me? I gave him a look that shut his mouth with an audible click.
Yes, I was the most laid-back of our group, and I liked for my students to enjoy their time in my class, but I wasn’t a pushover, and I had no intention of letting them think addressing me without respect was okay.
“Let’s get started.” I directed them into groups and positioned each one on the stage. “We’re going to start with the basics. Poise, posture, and precision. Then we move on to vocals.” I pulled my rolled-up copy of the play from my back pocket and tapped it. “No role is guaranteed. How you perform in class, the effort you put into learning, and your ability to listen and apply criticism plays a big part in your auditions.”
The low hum of chatter slowed as they realized I meant every word. It wasn’t unusual. At thirty-nine, most new students saw me and the theater class as an easy A.
I loved proving them wrong. They’d work for their grade like any other class.
