Part 10 (1/2)
He looked at her a long time, and she felt herself react. His stare was like a physical caress, and after several seconds she looked down at her drink. What is this feeling, she asked herself. I've never experienced this in all my life.
”Andi.” His voice was velvet.
She looked up again.
”I love watching you on stage. You act with your whole body, heart, and soul. That's important.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. ”In the art of acting, our bodies are the colors. Our hearts the canvas. This sort of artwork is expressed through the soul - if we're gifted at it, anyway.” He patted her knee. ”You're gifted, Andi. When you act, you work your magic straight through me. No doubt about that.” He stood. ”I'll get the script.” With an easy, loping jog he was off, headed for the parking lot.
Andi exhaled and sank into the back of the wooden bench. It was like he has some supernatural power, something that rendered her captive, caught in his spell. She sipped her coffee and tried to understand why she hadn't felt this way before around him. Now there was something about him that made her breath catch in her throat, her heart race out of control.
She steadied herself. Get a grip, Andi. You're being ridiculous. But even as she handed out instructions to herself, she could smell his cologne hanging in the frozen air, hear his voice. ”I love watching you on stage ... You're gifted ... You work your magic straight through me ...”
She closed her eyes. This was crazy. She barely knew the guy. The script did matter, even if she hadn't thought so a minute ago. She would approach the next conversation with him differently, with her head in charge.
She sat straighter and took a few deep breaths, willing her head to clear. He jogged back up the path a moment later and sat beside her again, a little closer than before. Had he given himself another spritz of cologne, or were her senses really that aware of him? She blinked twice, focusing.
”Here.” He handed her a thin, stapled doc.u.ment. It couldn't have been more than thirty, forty pages.
As the papers moved from his hand to hers, their fingers touched and a jolt of electric attraction ran through her veins, dropping her stomach to her knees and making her fight for her next breath. Her mouth went dry, and she ran her tongue along her lower lip. ”Thank you.”
Taz was sitting sideways, facing her straight on. ”The entire film won't be longer than half an hour. But I'm looking for a tremendous amount of energy in that time, a very powerful message.”
Andi wasn't sure she should ask, but her curiosity got the better of her. ”You told me a little about the plot, but ... what's the theme?”
”It's about pus.h.i.+ng limits, taking chances and being willing to experience the consequences.” He looked away. ”Consequences aren't always to be suffered, but to be experienced. Wholly - body and mind, heart and soul.” He found her eyes again. ”If we are willing to experience anything in honesty, then we can become more than ourselves.” He grinned, and the philosopher was gone. ”Besides ... whatever the message, it'll be unforgettable if you're the lead.”
”Thank you.” The wind was picking up, and Andi started to s.h.i.+ver. ”I'll read it.” She tucked her chin in and felt her look turn shy. ”When do you need to know?”
”Take a week. You'll need time after the show wraps tomorrow.”
She was flattered that he knew her schedule. ”A week it is.”
He angled his head, flirting with her for all he was worth. ”But you know ... I was thinking something.”
”What's that?” The chemistry between them made her forget being cold.
”I might need to add a line or two in the script. You know, since I'm the producer and director. And I'd have to ask your thoughts on it.”
”True.”
”So ...” His eyes became puppy-dog hopeful. ”I was thinking - for the sake of the film - maybe I should get your number.”
She tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn't. Laughter tickled her throat. She held out her hand. ”Give me your phone.”
He did, and she entered herself and her number as a new contact. ”There.” She gave it back to him. ”In case you come up with an extra line or two.”
”Right.” He stood and helped her to her feet. Again the touch of his hand against hers spread an intoxicating sensation throughout her body. She let her fingers stay in his a few seconds longer than necessary, the whole time looking straight into his eyes.
”I hope you like the script.” His voice was soft, his face just inches from hers.
”Me too.” She didn't blink, didn't dare break the connection between them.
He gave her hand a final squeeze and then released it. ”This could be interesting.”
”Yes.”
”Complicated, but interesting.” He was so close he could've leaned down and kissed her. But instead he took a step back and led the way as they walked the path back to the theater. At the lobby doors, he stuck his hands into his pockets and shrugged, his eyes full of depth and kindness, and a power she didn't fully understand. ”See you around, Andi.”
”Yeah.” She gave a slight wave. ”See ya 'round.”
She had five minutes to report for dance rehearsal, and after that the night show pa.s.sed in a blur. Her parents didn't show up, but they left another message. Their plane would arrive sometime around midnight, and they'd see her in the morning - before the Sunday matinee. But even with that disappointment, as she and Bailey headed back to the Flanigan house for Pictionary, Andi was beyond happy. On the drive, Bailey asked about Taz, but she kept her answers short and evasive. She didn't want to talk about him, didn't want anyone judging her. ”It's no big deal,” she lied. ”I probably won't do the film anyway.”
”What'd you guys talk about?” Bailey's eyes were shadowed in suspicion. ”You were out there a long time.”
”Mostly filmmaking. A little bit about the script.” She shrugged. ”It was nothing.”
Bailey dropped the subject, which was good for both of them. They played on the same Pictionary team with Bailey's mom, and they won easily.
”It's not fair.” Bailey's brother Shawn slumped back in his chair after the game. ”Girls just know each other better.”
Everyone laughed, and the girls won another round before calling it a night. On the way back to the dorm, Andi was grateful Bailey didn't bring up Taz again. Instead they listened to Rascal Flatts, which was perfect. The break in conversation gave Andi the chance to privately relive the time with Taz. Enough so that as she got ready for bed, for the first time she didn't think once about grabbing her Bible or Rachel's journal. She had no conflicting thoughts or pangs of guilt. Only memories of Taz. His smile and his eyes, the way he thought differently than the other kids she knew. The way he made her feel. And as she fell asleep she realized she was not just intrigued by the film student from her science cla.s.s.
She was head over heels.
Twelve.
BAILEY WATCHED THE CLOCK ON THE wall in her Advanced Algebra cla.s.s and willed the last five minutes to pa.s.s quickly. She was meeting Tim for lunch, and she could hardly wait to see him. Since Christmas, both their schedules had been too busy to spend much time together. Bailey had been so focused on her grades it was already late January, and the two of them hadn't been on a date in weeks. Not only that, but life was about to get busier. Tim and Andi had auditioned for the university's upcoming musical - Robin Hood. Bailey's current cla.s.s schedule was too intense for theater, but she was taking private voice lessons with Katy Matthews, Dayne's wife, and dance cla.s.ses at night on campus.
On top of that Bailey wanted to be more involved with Campus Crusade, which was organizing a late-summer mission trip to Costa Rica. The Cru meetings had taken on a pattern. She and Tim would sit near the front, while Cody sat in the back. Most Thursdays Andi found a reason not to go. As for Cody, Bailey felt so distant around him, it was like they'd never known each other. But rather than focus on Cody, Bailey was getting more involved with the ministry aspects of the group. She and several other Cru girls had started meeting once a week in the common area of Bailey's dorm, and she was grateful for the interaction. They'd met twice so far, and both times Andi had been too busy with schoolwork to join them.
Bailey had a feeling there was more to it than that. Her roommate was splitting her time between schoolwork and Taz, but whenever Bailey asked about the filmmaker, her roommate shut down. As difficult as it had been for Bailey to imagine Cody and Andi together, certainly Cody would have been better for her than Taz.
”What about his faith?” Bailey had asked a few weeks ago.
Andi had given her a tired look. ”He thinks everyone should have a right to believe what they wish.”
Bailey wanted to ask her what Bible verse that came from, but she didn't want to be sarcastic. Cynicism would only turn Andi further from the truth. Instead she nodded thoughtfully. ”And what about him? What does he believe?”
”He's agnostic. A skeptic, as he likes to say.” Andi was quick to follow up on the fact. ”Which is why it's good he has someone like me in his life.”
Bailey tapped her pencil on her math book and tried to focus. The professor droned on about integers and absolute values within the context of a proof. Bailey let her eyes wander to the window and the snow outside. She missed Tim, but the time apart for them wasn't all bad. Bailey and her family had been together more often, which gave her the chance to hang out with her youngest brother, Ricky. He'd been sick with winter colds lately - coughing a lot and feeling tired. When she was home, Bailey could play backgammon or the Wii with him - so he wouldn't notice the cough so much. Not that she was worried about him. Ricky had had successful heart surgery as a baby, and he was very healthy now. But every winter was a struggle.
At the front of the cla.s.sroom, the professor checked the clock and smiled at the auditorium full of students. ”That'll be all. Tomorrow's Friday. Come prepared for a quiz on chapter 2.”
Bailey slung her backpack over her right shoulder and hurried out the back door. She scanned the distance from the math building to the cafeteria and saw Tim walk into view. This was their meeting spot on Thursdays, when their schedules allowed them time to share lunch. She smiled and waved, and he jogged to meet her, his backpack pulled tight around his shoulders. ”Hey.” He gave her a quick hug as they walked. ”I can't believe how cold it is.”
They'd had a record-breaking winter so far, more snow than any of the locals could remember. Cla.s.ses had even been cancelled a few days last week. One of the students had tacked a note on the Math Building: ”School closed - due to global warming.”