Page 7 of Notice Me, Jameson Hart
I push my eggs around. “Maybe. Or maybe I should apply somewhere else. Somewhere with a real theater program.”
“Like where?”
“NYU. Juilliard. Carnegie Mellon.” The names feel impossible on my tongue. “Places where I could learn from professionals.”
Adam takes a sip of his coffee. “You’re talented enough.”
“I’ve never even had a lead role.”
“Because you never audition for them.” He points his fork at me. “You hide in the ensemble because it’s safe. But I’ve seen you perform. You could carry a whole show if you let yourself try.”
The truth of his words stings. “What if I try and fail?”
“Then you fail. But at least you’ll know.” He reaches across the table and steals a hash brown. “Besides, you’re a Pryor. We don’t give up that easy.”
I smile. “When did you get so wise?”
“Must be all those ‘relaxing’ videos.”
We both crack up, earning a glare from Mindy.
“Sometimes I wish I could be more like you and Robbie,” I say once we settle down.
“What, devastatingly handsome?” Adam pretends to flip his hair over his shoulder.
“No,” I snicker. “Popular. You guys never have to worry about getting shoved into lockers or having your lunch tray knocked out of your hands.”
Adam shifts uncomfortably. “Kev…”
“It’s true, though. You’re the quarterback. Robbie’s the kicker. The town worships the ground you walk on. Nobody messes with you because you win state championships.”
Adam puts down his utensils, folds his arms across his chest, and leans back in his seat. His eyes narrow as he pins me with that big brother stare. The one that says he thinks I’m being a whiny baby.
“I’m not complaining,” I assure him. “I’m stating facts. Theater kids aren’t exactly high on the social food chain, you know.”
“You’re going to be famous one day,” he says. “Then all those jerks will be bragging about how they went to school withtheKevin Pryor.”
My chest warms at his confidence. “You think so?”
“Mark my words.”
“A Tony winner wouldn’t get atomic wedgies,” I muse. “Or have his script stolen and thrown in the toilet.”
Adam’s mouth pops open. “That happened?”
Oops.I hadn’t meant to let that slip. I wave it off. “Last spring, during tech week forOnce on This Island.”
Adam’s jaw tightens, and his fist clenches. “Who?”
I place my hand over his and tell him to relax. “Doesn’t matter. Mr. Rodriguez printed me a new copy.”
“Kevin,” he huffs. “Who?”
“It’sfine. The show must go on and all that jazz.” I stretch out my legs beneath the table and accidentally kick Adam in the shin. “Sorry.”
“You need to tell us when that kind of shit happens.”
“And let you get suspended again? Pass.”
