He looked at her in a way that made it feel like he’d known her forever, like no one would ever know her better. “My parents were Muslims, but they sort of lost their fervor for the dogma when they moved to the U.S.” He took a slow sip from his coffee. “I’m agnostic. A skeptic, I guess. I believe people are entitled to believe. Whatever their beliefs.” He chuckled and put his arm along the back of the bench. His shoulder muscles showed through his coat. “How’s that?”
She laughed too. “I like it.”
They talked for half an hour about politics and peace, raving radicals and religion before he paused for a long moment. “About the film.” He angled his head, and she fell into his eyes. “Have you thought about it?”
Her attraction to him was growing stronger with every passing minute. He was interesting and intelligent, and so far a perfect gentlemen. But somehow Andi felt stripped bare in his presence. Like he had a gift of seeing past the layers of formality and pretense. “I have. I’d like to see the script.” She cupped her hands around her drink and hoped he couldn’t read the truth — that her mind was made up. She was taking the role. She could hardly wait to work under his direction.
“I have a copy in my car. How much time do you have?”
She pulled her phone from her purse and checked it. “Ten minutes, maybe fifteen. We have an extra dance rehearsal before tonight’s call. It’s a full company number.”
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 document. 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 pushing 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 shiver. “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 passed 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, f
or 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 class.
She was head over heels.
Twelve
BAILEY WATCHED THE CLOCK ON THE wall in her Advanced Algebra class and willed the last five minutes to pass 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 class schedule was too intense for theater, but she was taking private voice lessons with Katy Matthews, Dayne’s wife, and dance classes 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 classroom, 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. Classes 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.”
Bailey pulled her coat more tightly around her shoulders. “I can’t wait for warmer weather.” She felt her eyes light up. “I almost forgot. My mom’s taking us to New York City for spring break. She wants to meet up with one of her old friends.” She grinned at him. “She said you could come with us.”
“Really?” He stopped and dropped his backpack on the cement pathway. “Are you serious?”
Her laughter was light and easy. “Yes, I’m serious!”
“We’re going to New York City!” He let out a celebratory hoot, picked her up, and swung her in a full circle. When he set her down he did another solo circle. “I can’t believe this.” He put his hand on his head, his expression dazed. “That’s the most amazing thing ever!”
“I know.” She laughed again. “Come on. We’re making a scene.” She linked arms with him and snuggled close to his side. “If we’re going to live there someday and star on Broadway, you better at least learn your way around.”
“I still can’t believe it.” He stopped again. “I better double my hours at the bookstore.”
“Nah, silly.” She gave him a gentle tug and they kept walking. “My mom’s treating. You’ll go as our guest.”
“Now I’m really in shock.” He ran ahead of her a few steps, turned and faced her, walking backwards. “You’re serious?”
“Tim.” She shook her head. “You’re acting crazy.”
“Okay, okay.” He exhaled. “I’ll try to believe I’m not dreaming.”
Inside the cafeteria they got their lunches and found seats together in a quiet back corner. This time Tim controlled himself. “Will we see shows and everything?”
“Of course.” Bailey giggled. She realized something that had been more obvious lately: Tim made her laugh. Everything about being with him was wonderful and getting better all the time. “Going to plays? That’s the whole point.”
“So … I mean, I haven’t ever really researched Broadway. What’s playing there?”
“My mom said something about seeing Mary Poppins — which is amazing, because we’ve seen it before. Then maybe Shrek, the Musical — which would be funny and stars Sutton Foster, who is, like, the best Broadway actress ever.”
They talked about the brilliant set design and music of The Lion King, and a new show called In the Heights, about life in the barrios of New York City.
“Too bad we don’t have more time.” Tim was eating a cheese-burger. A blob of ketchup smeared onto his cheek, but he didn’t notice it. “We’ll be there just a week.”
Bailey pointed to her cheek, and Tim caught the message. He swiped a napkin over his face and grinned at her. “I’m too frozen to feel anything.”
“Yeah, but anyway, the shows are every night except Monday. Two on Wednesday and two on the weekend days. We could pretty much see whatever we want. My mom loves Broadway plays.”
“Wow.” He seemed speechless. “Tell your parents thanks. I can’t wait.”
The topic changed and they talked about Robin Hood. “We’ll find out tomorrow if we got cast.”
“Of course you will.” She rested her forearms on the table and leaned closer to him. “You’re unbelievable on stage, Tim. You’ll be Robin Hood, for sure. You and Andi will have a great time.” She no longer worried about Tim being attracted to her friend. Andi was different these days, and she spent much of her time with Taz. The time away had hurt their friendship. At least it seemed that way. She said she hadn’t committed to Taz’s film. But Bailey thought her roommate might be lying to her. She actually hoped Andi would get a part opposite Tim, so he could help talk some sense into her.
“There was more competition this time.” Tim glanced at her, but only as he hurried to finish his burger. “You glad you didn’t try out?”
“Definitely. I need a break. Katy Matthews is giving me voice lessons and I added a few night dance classes. That’ll h
elp me more than being in a play right now.” Bailey’s strength was dance, but it didn’t hurt to brush up. Especially if she was serious about getting an audition in New York City. “One more thing about New York. My mom’s friend knows the casting director of Wicked. I guess he’s going to introduce us to some people while we’re there.”
“That’s crazy.” Tim looked beyond thrilled. “That’s so great. I mean, picture it. You and me performing on Broadway together! Living the dream.”
“One day.” She gave him a full-faced grin. “But for now … we better eat. Class starts in ten.”
They finished and said good-bye just outside the cafeteria and walked separate ways to their next class. Tim was fun, Bailey thought as she trudged down the sidewalk. Never mind that sometimes she wished he were a little more romantic, a little more like the guy who had held her hand on stage during Scrooge opening night. Since then she’d longed for those moments, but they rarely came. Tim didn’t look at her long enough to give her a window to his soul. But that could come later, if the two of them stayed together. For now it was nice to have a great guy in her life, someone who shared her faith and wasn’t about to let her down.
The way she’d been let down before.
Snow began to fall as she reached the English building, and after she’d walked down the hall and up a flight of stairs, she saw the note. English 102 was cancelled. The instructor was ill and not expected back until Monday. Bailey adjusted her backpack and pulled her coat tighter. The walk from English to her dorm was the longest of the day. As she stepped back outside, her hood helped take the edge off the biting wind, but it only allowed her a limited window of sight. She was halfway to her dorm when she felt someone come up beside her.
“Bailey.” The voice was Cody’s. No amount of time could remove the sound of it from her heart. “Didn’t you hear me?”