True to Mr. Fisk’s prediction, Kyle had picked up the dance steps in one practice. He hit his marks in time with the music without any trouble, and kept character perfectly.
She’d known he could pull it off—he’d already proven he was a consummate actor, with four long years of experience playing a part.
She whirled toward him, and he lifted her straight up in one fluid movement. A few members of the audience clapped. He spun her around, pulling her close. Their eyes met, and his held a flicker of amusement as she leaned back like a rag doll, moving at his every whim.
He released her and she spun away, holding her head in her hands in fear as the chorus closed in on her again, forcing her back to Jud. The second lift went off perfectly, with Kyle’s steady strength giving her balance she needed to hold her pose. Adrenaline shot through her veins—now it was only the fish lift. Time to blow minds and impress that agent in the audience who’d come to see her perform.
That was Kyle’s doing, too.
She leaped and flew, pinballing around the chorus, driven to Jud like some horrible magnet. As she turned toward him, Kyle winked and she held her breath. Mr. Fisk was going to kill them later, but who cared?
She pirouetted into his arms, which came expertly around her waist and thigh. He lifted her, did the dip and whispered, “Here we go.”
Then she was flying, sailing above his head and everyone else’s. The audience whistled and applauded as Kyle set her down. It was so hard to keep the grin off her face.
Terrified, remember, you’re terrified.
She danced and danced, letting the music and the moment sweep her up and in. It was perfect.
The chorus surrounded her, and she stumbled in pretend horror, a mute scream on her lips. She was unable to escape him, and Kyle grabbed her and hauled her over one shoulder. She pounded on his back, mock-kicking at him, as he carried her off stage. The curtain fell, and the crash of applause made her twitch as Kyle put her down.
Mr. Fisk was shaking his head. “Okay, okay, beautiful job, and I’ll excuse the aerial out there since the agent’s here, but no big lifts tomorrow.”
He walked away, barking orders to Ado Annie to be ready for her cue. Faith leaned against Kyle, trembling with nerves and excitement. “Oh my God, that was awesome.”
He laughed and pulled her into a hug. “I hate how I have to look at you when I’m in character, but I have to admit, the lifts were pretty awesome.”
“They were!” She gave him a quick kiss before bending down to pull off her pointe shoes. She’d have to “wake up” from her dream onstage soon. “Don’t go anywhere—you have to take the curtain call with us.”
He nodded, and she hustled back onstage, so full of joy, she might burst. And when the play was over, Kyle joined them onstage to applause. If Josh looked just a teeny bit sour, well, she couldn’t be all that sorry.
The lights shone down on the ball field. It was a gorgeous spring night, warm with a soft breeze that teased summer’s coming arrival. Graduation was coming, too, but Faith wasn’t worried. Kyle’s grandpa, who’d come to the musical on Kyle’s ticket, had been pretty impressed. A week later, she was asked to send her audition to Elon in North Carolina. Apparently, one of the trustees was an old marine buddy, and they were considering her for a spot.
She fought a smile, thinking about how she and Kyle had celebrated the news, after he told her he’d follow her anywhere he could grow a garden.
“You look like a kitten sneaking a hot dog off the counter,” Vi said, raising a brow. “Care to share?”
Faith blushed. “Uh, not really.”
“Uh-huh, thought not.” Vi winked, then looked down at the field. “I have to say, I do love those baseball pants. Nice view.”
“Vi…”
“Hey, you can’t say you haven’t noticed.”
No, she sure couldn’t.
Faith sat up straighter as Kyle ran to the outfield. She waved, but he had that “I’m invincible” game face on, so all she could do was grin at Vi. “You ready?”
“I know nothing about this sport.” Violet leaned back, putting her hands on the floor of the bleachers behind them. She wore a Suttonville T, ripped along the hem and tied around her waist. “Why’s Kyle way out there?”
Faith laughed. “He’s an outfielder. You know, in case someone hits a pop fly, he can catch it.”
Vi stared at her, slack-jawed. “Are you speaking Swedish?”
Faith patted her shoulder. “You’ll pick it up.”
Alyssa sat on her other side. To Faith’s surprise, she knew a lot about baseball. She was staring at the batter’s box. “That guy from Midway has a terrible stance.”