Sight (Scomiche)

Modernized

The next day we did another read through, getting through the whole play. We avoided the kiss yet again, claiming Scott was still sick. On Friday, we began blocking the first scene. Friday was a short practice. The schedule for November was:
Mondays: 4-7
Tuesdays: 4-6
Wednesdays: 4-6
Thursdays: 4-7
Fridays: 4-6
And no weekends.
As the months went on, the practice times increased.
Finally, after I could wait no longer, it was Saturday. Scott and I barely talked at all besides reading lines in play practice, but I did shoot a few glares his direction when Tyler talked to him. The glares were mainly for Tyler, but also for Scott being such an idiot and dating a guy like that.

I spent the morning picking up and unintentionally making sure everything was perfect for Scott. I don't know why. It was like I /liked/ him or something. And that sure wasn't it.
Was it?
No. Scott is an idiotic, rude, conceited, arrogant Neanderthal. Nobody could like that... except obviously Tyler who likes anybody. You could be a fricking serial killer and he'd be like "Hey baby wanna go out sometime?"
Just thinking about it made me upset, and I just as I was beginning to regret having Scott over, there was a knock on my door. They were quiet, but I heard them. I paused just so he wouldn't think I was waiting right by the door for his arrival. Instead I held back for a few seconds and then opened the door. My heart fluttered for a moment and before I could condone its appearance, a smile showed up on my face. I forgot my anger towards Tyler and Scott.
"Hey," I greeted. "You found it."
There was a small smirk playing on the corners of his lips. "Yeah."
"Well come in," I welcomed, opening the door wider.
He stepped in and I closed the door behind him.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" I offered. "Soda, water... oh! Lemonade too."
"Just water will be fine, thanks."
It was definitely awkward, but I was trying to push past it because what else was I to do?
I grabbed two waters out of the fridge and tossed him one. He successfully caught it.
"Alright, so, where should we go from? Like, do you wanna start at the beginning or just do the scenes we're together in or..." I trailed off as I started to head over to the couch. He hesitantly followed.
"Uh... I- I think we should start with the scenes we're together in, because reading other people's lines right off the bat m-might get a little confusing."
I nodded and sipped at my water. I kept my lip at the edge of the rim of the bottle, thinking.
"Okay," I said, screwing on the cap. "Let's do it then."
"So that would be the ball scene?" Scott asked, flipping through his large script. I admired the way he could even make page turning attractive.
"I think so?" I said more as a question.
"Yeah, it is." He stared at the paper for a moment then continued. "So should we, like, stand up and do some movements or just read through it all?"
"How late can you stay?"
He shrugged. "Till whenever. I have to write a conclusion to a paper but that's it. And I can do that tomorrow."
I nodded. "Okay. Well let's read through the ball scene, then act it out as well the next time."
"Okay."
We cleared our throats and both took swigs of water.
"Your hand is like a holy place that my hand is unworthy to visit. If you’re offended by the touch of my hand, my two lips are standing here like blushing pilgrims, ready to make things better with a kiss," Scott recited.
"Don't you think we should make that more modern?" I interrupted. "Like, I know Katherine and Drew said they're going to but they argue so much, I don't know how they'd get through it."
He shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose so. We can do that now and then practice. But I also don't want to learn the wrong lines. Like, if they don't like it or something."
"Trust me, they'll be glad we're taking a load off their shoulders," I assured.
"Okay, if you say so."
I grabbed a pencil on the table next to the arm of the couch and tapped it against my chin.
"How could we make this more modern?" I said more to myself than him.
Scott stared intently at the pieces of paper. It was kinda... cute. I mean, how focused he was. I could tell he had a million ideas running through his head, but he did not speak.
"How about, like, you say something liiiiike uhhh 'May I hold your hand? Unless your hand is too good for mine, which I believe it might be. Then I will gladly take your lips instead.'"
He nodded. "I like it. What about the next line? 'Good pilgrim, you don’t give your hand enough credit. By holding my hand you show polite devotion. After all, pilgrims touch the hands of statues of saints. Holding one palm against another is like a kiss.' I mean, it's your line, but... I'm sorry."
I quirked an eyebrow. "What? Why?"
"I said your line," he nervously said.
"So? I said your line, don't be sorry."
"Sor...I mean... Okay."
"Anyway, maybe something like... huh. 'You don't give your hand enough credit. Holding hands is like having two palms kiss each other, isn't that close enough?'"
Scott's eyebrows raised up as he nodded in approval. "Wow. You're really good at this." He began scribbling words down.
"Thanks," I said, unsure of if he was being sarcastic.
He looked up, pencil stopping suddenly, actually making eye contact. "Really," he guaranteed with his voice. "You are."
I could feel the blush making its way to the surface of my cheeks. "Thank you," I quickly said, then immediately put my head down.
I could feel him staring at me for a second or two more before looking down to continue writing. What I'd give to know what he was thinking.
After about two minutes of us repeating the lines we had modernized to copy them down, we moved on, translating the rest of the scene.
"Alright, we're ready for a readthrough," I directed, setting down my pencil.
"Okay, maybe since we already read through while writing we should act it out, too?"
"Okay," I agreed.
"Ready, set, go. May I hold your hand? Unless your hand is too good for mine, which I believe it might be. Then I will gladly take your lips instead," Scott delivered.
"You don't give your hand enough credit. Holding hands is like having two palms kiss each other, isn't that close enough?" I responded. Without thinking, I raised my hand, palm flat and facing Scott. He hesitated, and I suddenly felt like a gigantic idiot. It probably wasn't even the right motion, but I couldn't look at my script now, it was too late.
stupid, stupid, stupid. Scott's going to laugh at you now, you idiot.

A large, gentle hand resting against mine derailed my train of thought.
"But is that truly enough for the soul?" Scott delivered his line confidently and smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine. I didn't feel as though he was just acting as Ryan looking at James, but instead looking at me personally. A small warmth glowed in my chest, unfurling into a soft ball of light.
"Yes, because the soul is for heaven and must be kept pure," I retorted sweetly.
"Well then, let lips do what hands do, and purify each other. I'm praying for you to kiss me; please grant my prayer so my faith doesn't turn to despair."
"Then don't move while I act out my prayer."
He moved his hand from mine to my face, cupping my cheek as he leaned closer. I should have been thinking about where James would move his hands, or whether or not he'd use tounge, but all my brain could muster was a quickening heartbeat at our proximity and a detached comment about how blue Scott's eyes were. He paused, a breaths distance from my lips, a question in his (incredibly blue) eyes.
"Are you sure you're okay with-"
I rolled my eyes and closed the distance, my mouth molding to his.