Cast Party ✓

chapter one-and-only

It's dark outside, and I have a feeling that the snow will be piled up past my thigh by the time midnight rolls round. Though I can't say I'm really focused on that. Or the Newsies cast party happening around me. Or the "spicy" game of truth or dare we currently have going on.

Josiah Richmond is sitting on my lap. He's sitting on my lap, curved around elaborately - I don't want to think about how elaborately - so that he can sling one arm over my shoulders.

This was a cruel dare. Screw Edward.

Seriously, I'm focusing on pictures of baby squirrels freezing to death outside, because it's probably the only thing that can save me right now from embarrassing myself.

No one really understands the politics abundant inside a high school theatre troupe. It's all, "So-and-so is totally screwing with such-and-such behind her back," and, "So-and-so can't actually sing that well; I heard they smoke a pack a day." It's all total bull, and it's all very passive-aggressive.

Edward is probably still mad at me that I told him that I didn't want to go out with him again - even after he gave me a tiny Hershey's Kiss - and that's probably why he dared Josiah to sit on my lap for five rounds.

We're only on our second round now. I can hardly stand it.

"Nick," comes the voice of one of the tech crew kids, Christa. I look over and up at her. She's a junior, a year under me; she used to have a big crush on me when she was a freshman. Ever since I came out, she's seemed way too invested in what I'm doing. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare." Truths are boring. It's always, "Who's the most attractive person in the room?" or something. (That was Edward's truth. He said me, then turned around and gave his stupid, cruel dare to Josiah.)

"I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room."

There it is again: that "most attractive person" thing.

A few of the freshmen girls giggle, as if I'm going to walk over there and just plant one on their lips. And then there's Edward, seated all the way across the room from me, staring at me challengingly, expectantly. All the other guys in the room either have their gazes focused on me or as uncomfortably away from me as possible.

From on top of me, Josiah looks down and smiles gently. I don't think anyone else can see it - we're sat in an armchair in the corner, all by ourselves - but he's definitely biting his lip.

Cats puking. Starving children. Angry vacuums.

It's barely working. I hate everyone. Everyone. Sucks.

"I mean," I say once, too quietly, then again, louder. "I am lazy. . . . And Josiah is right here."

"I could move," he offers, but not in a way that even sounds like he means to.

"It's fine," I tell him, then snake one of my arms over his shoulders and cup his jaw, bringing his face down to mine while my other hand rests on the side of his torso. I can feel his ribs expand slowly, cautiously, as his lips meet mine. They're soft at first, and then he scooches closer, his grip on me tightening.

Our heads tilt in some kind of weird but enticing harmony, and my heart's beating too rapidly for me to even think about non-exciting things. He's just so soft. . . .

There's laughing. "Get a room, you two!" someone cries. Probably one of the over-eager freshmen.

Josiah pulls away, smiling widely, winks once, and turns around.

Ugh. Ugh, to the ugh, to the ugh.

Four rounds later, and Josiah's still on me.

I think we're acting like we both don't realize that it's over. That he doesn't have to sit on me any more. But I'm not complaining. At all.