I peeked around the curtain at the auditorium filled with people and gulped, wiping my sweaty hands on my dress. I couldn't see the audience with the stage lights glaring at me, which I was slightly grateful for because that meant I could just block them out.
"Hey, Chloe, you ready for this?" a deep, smooth voice whispered in my ear. I jumped, startled, and turned to look at the perpetrator with a glare.
"Don't do that!" I hissed at him. He chuckled and reached up to tuck my hair behind my ear.
"Aw, but I love scaring you. It makes my day," he said with a smirk as he sauntered away. My skin tingled where his fingers had brushed against and I was sure I was blushing.
I should already be used to him messing with me, he'd been doing it for months, ever since we found out we were cast for our school's rendition of Grease. I could still remember his audition, him standing up on stage in a 21 Pilots T-shirt and goofy smile, singing "Dancing Through Life" from Wicked. It was at that moment that I started developing a crush on him; not only did he have a shirt of my favorite band, but he auditioned with a song from my favorite musical.
The day that we got the casting news, he turned to me with that same goofy smile and said: "At least they cast a gorgeous Sandra Dee" with a wink. And he reminded me of it every day at rehearsals. I wasn't the type of girl to make the first move, so I waited day after day for him to move from flirting with me to asking me out. But he still hadn't.
We ran through the scenes almost seamlessly, and every time our characters interacted in any physical way, I had to fight the urge to smile or look down nervously. When it got to the point where we were about to go on stage for our final scene, Ryan waved me over backstage. As I stood next to him, trying not to show how nervous I really felt, I noticed he had a serious look on his face, which was odd for him.
"Chloe... it's been a few months of me flirting with you."
"Ummm....yes, I know." I muttered, looking down at the ground. He placed his finger on my chin, tilting my face so he could look into my eyes.
"Okay, let me put it in words that you'll understand: I like you, and I want to take you on a date."
"Oh..." I was shell-shocked, with no idea what to say. "Well, yes... I... I..."
"We have to go back out, but," he said as he tucked my hair behind my ear again, "we are going to go for ice cream afterwards." He walked out on stage, glancing back at me over his shoulder.
"It's about damn time," I whispered under my breath as I followed him out.
