"Okay, class, the readings are tonight, and I know you're all a little excited, but we need to settle down, please."

Ms. Piper's entreaty fell on mostly deaf ears, because the students were higher than kites over the show. The kids from drama club were trying to act like this was no big thing, while the newbies weren't bothering to hide their excitement. Taken as a group, they were all very loud, very tightly wound teens.

Amelia and Brett made a point of ignoring each other since the events of a few weeks before; miraculously, word about Amelia's terrible solution to her terrible problem hadn't gotten out, and it seemed that the only people who knew about it were Ruthie, Gordon, Brett, and Amelia herself.

Ruthie had seen enough of Brett and Pam's dialogue to know that it was going to be terrible; hammy and melodramatic, they'd chosen to perform one of the climactic scenes from Twilight. Ruthie didn't know which one, as she'd never read the books, but she knew smarm when she heard it.

"If all goes well, tonight's donations should go a long way toward subsidizing our trip to New York in the spring," Ms. Piper continued, "so lets do a good job, shall we? I'm asking for ten dollar donations per person, so make it worth it to them, okay?"

Ruthie and Elliott smiled at each other. She was still wearing the boot, but this wouldn't matter for them, as Elliott was the one who'd be moving around.

Ruthie had for the most part gotten used to Brett and his staring. It was actually an old football trick. He'd stare down his opponent and wreck his concentration. Knowing that there was no brain behind the eyes made it pretty powerless as far as Ruthie was concerned.

Elliott, however, had never gotten over his antagonism toward the larger boy and his friends.

"You know, I never did ask you where you learned your moves," Ruthie asked Elliott as they walked home in the damp and cloudy afternoon. Brett and his friends had just roared by in his truck, country music blasting. They'd all had catcalls and rude gestures for the two of them, which Ruthie couldn't have cared less about, but which had made Elliott go silent and sullen.

"Moves?"

"Yeah, you know, in the parking lot that night, you did some pretty groovy stuff," Ruthie went on, trying to distract him from the gang in the truck.

"Oh," Elliott finally answered after the truck turned a corner and disappeared from view. "Mostly from combat training acting class, or whatever you call it over here. I did some plays where I had to know how to fight, and the best way to look as though you can is to actually know how. I just didn't pull my punches like I would've, that's all."

He turned to her. "I hope you feel safe with me?" he asked.

"What?"

"I hope you feel safe with me," he repeated. "If there hadn't been so many of them, and if they hadn't surprised us, I would've handled the situation just fine, yeah?"

"Elliott, first of all, you're not my designated protector, okay?" Ruthie responded, turning and continuing to walk. "It's not your job to keep me safe. Second of all, no one could've helped us if they'd been with us, no one, do you understand?"

Elliott looked at her uncertainly and nodded.

"This isn't The Middle Ages, and I'm not some maiden fair that you have to save."

They'd arrived at Ruthie's house, and she put her hand on his shoulder. "You need to let that go, okay? Brett has already moved on, he's only messing with us for entertainment. I think he's slept with three or four girls since he broke up with me."

She hadn't told Elliott about Amelia, because she'd asked Ruthie not to. They would never be the friends they'd been, but she could respect her wishes.

"So, I'll see you in the theater at six o'clock sharp?" Ruthie asked with a smile.

Again, Elliott nodded. "I'll be there. And if my grandparents don't stroke out over our choice of material, maybe they'll even let me have the car after so we can go out."

"Sounds good," Ruthie answered, her smile growing. "You know I'll have Pepsi, Linda, and Gordo with me, though, right? So no finding a quiet street so we can make out."

Elliott grinned at her as he leaned in for a kiss. "Please! Making out with Pepsi, Linda, Gordo and you is one of my favorite things!"

Ruthie just shook her head as she walked up to her front door.

⛈🎭⛈🎭⛈🎭⛈🎭⛈🎭⛈

The sky had darkened considerably by six o'clock, and Elliot ran through the door just as the first, fat drops of rain hit the parking lot outside.

Ruthie had been there since five o'clock, to check on props and performance order, since, in addition to her own dialogue with Elliot, she was stage manager for "the show," as everyone was calling it.

"Hi!" Ruthie leaned in to kiss Elliott, who looked particularly dashing with his white skin, ruddy cheeks, tight jeans and baggy sweater that brought out his eyes. His dark hair was also extra curly because of the moisture in the air.

"Hello, Jelly Bean," Elliot answered, picking her up and twirling her around. He, too, thought she looked especially cute with her headset and clipboard. This made her laugh, as he'd hoped it would, her wild hair pouffing out even more than usual.

Her laugh made Brett glower in their direction, along with a couple of his cronies.

Surprisingly, to Ruthie, at least, was the look that came their way from Amelia, of all people. What followed next surprised her even more.

Elliott carefully put Ruthie down, made sure she wasn't going to fall over, then turned and gave Amelia a smile and a little wave.

"Since when are you and Amelia on smiling and waving terms?" she asked.

Elliott looked over at Ruthie as they went backstage.

"Hmm? Oh, well, we have a couple of classes together, and she lives by me, so we walk together sometimes," he answered. "She lives right over by--"

"I know where she lives, Elliott," Ruthie interrupted, more sharply than she intended, perhaps.

Elliott looked over at her in surprise. "What? Something wrong?"

Ruthie shook her head. "No, I just didn't know you had any classes with her, let alone multiple ones, that's all," she responded, trying to sound normal and not like a jealous bitch.

"I have this class with her, Ruthie," Elliott said with a little smile. "How could you not be aware of that?"

Ruthie could think of no rejoinder for this, so she just remained quiet. It was ridiculous to be jealous of Amelia; poor Amelia, who'd endured the humiliation of being Ruthie's very public and very temporary replacement, then the private and horrifying ordeal of terminating her pregnancy.

Ruthie wasn't even sure who Amelia's friends were, now that they no longer spent time together. She still looked happy most of the time, in her cheerleader outfit, with the other girls on game days, but there didn't seem to be anyone special, not like a best friend.

Ruthie still had Pepsi, Linda, and Gordo, of course, and now she had Elliott. These special friends were in addition to the tons of kids who considered it the high point of their day just to have her say hello to them.

She, Ruthie, was a lucky, lucky girl. Way luckier than poor Amelia.

So why did she feel the coiling of the ugly, green-eyed monster in her gut?

Ruthie tried to banish it as an ugly, rogue emotion sent by Satan.

"Of course I knew that," she answered, trying to sound cheerful and sunny. "It's nice of you, Elliott, she could probably use a few friends." She nodded for emphasis as Elliott continued to stare at her.

"One hour to curtain, waiting on Stage Manager's okay to open the house," was heard over the PA.

"Gotta run," she called as she dashed off. "This is the Stage Manager," she said into her headset. "Go ahead and open, Ronny, especially since it's pissing rain out there."

"'Pissing rain'? Your English boyfriend is showing," Ronny teased as he unlocked the doors and prepared to sell tickets and take donations.

The house was full, at least in part due to the weather. The swim team and baseball teams were having early tryouts, which ended just as the doors opened, and many decided to watch the show rather than walk all the way around the building and fencing to get to the parking lot.

"Wow, we got lucky," Ruthie whispered to Elliott as she peeked around the curtain.

She turned and saw Amelia watching them again, and felt a twinge.

Not jealousy. Just a twinge.

She reached out and stroked Elliott's back as Amelia watched them. She had no reason for doing this, she told herself; it was just because she wanted to, not because she was claiming Elliott or anything.

Then it was fifteen to show, the lights flashed, and Ruthie forgot all else but tonight's performance;" Elliott, Amelia, her still injured foot, all faded to the background as she got on with the business called "show."

It was fairly easy to run, since it was a series of dialogues. The props were laid out in order, and everyone knew their lines.

The only glitch came when Michael Stuidevaart didn't open the folding chair all the way, and it started to collapse when Helen Marshall sat on it. Luckily, she felt it and simply stood up and fixed it as she continued speaking.

It was quickly time for Elliott and Ruthie's dialogue, and since they were last, Ruthie's mind was free to focus. Ms Piper said she'd put them last because their subject matter, and the book from which the dialogue was taken was so controversial; however, Ruthie was fairly confident that they were last simply because they were best, and she didn't want to put anyone in the situation of having to follow them. The class, too, knew about Elliott and Ruthie's background in theatre, and that Elliott had actually performed on the West End, and no one had a problem with giving them the spotlight position at the end of the show.

Ruthie took deep breaths, finding her character. Elliott had gone off somewhere alone to help him become Peter, Anne's love interest in the doomed story of her life.

They had both agreed to try to convey a real love affair, a real romance, through body language and dialogue, though in reality there hadn't been one.

Ruthie knew that most of Anne Frank's "relationship" with Peter was in her imagination, and she found this unutterably sad.

They took their places, the curtain went up, and they began, turning into Peter Van Daan and Anne Frank in front of the entire room.

The passion, the fear, the hopelessness, all appeared as if by magic while Elliott and Ruthie held the stage. Ruthie felt like she was flying, or how she imagined a pairs figure skater must feel when her partner holds her and lifts her, just before he throws her for an amazing jump.

The silence after their kiss broke was a few beats long, and loaded with all of the emotion of the house.

Then the light changed, signaling the end of the performance, and the applause was immediate, loud, and heartfelt. Ruthie was gratified to see many tearful faces in the crowd as they bowed. Her dads were right in the front row, and Elliott's grandparents were just a couple of rows behind them, all clapping as they wiped their eyes. Pepsi and Linda were next to her dads, smiling, waving and clapping, of course.

The rest of the cast joined them onstage for bows, and then they called Ms. Piper out for her bow. Sarah Shepherd had been chosen to give her the customary flowers, as everyone clapped madly for their teacher.

Even horrible Brett, and his partner Pam, who'd dressed for the part of Bella Swan as a cross between a hooker and an angel of some sort, were sincere in their appreciation of their teacher. And the kiss between Elliott and Ruthie at the end of their dialogue didn't seem to have affected Brett much.

Good.

"Well done, Jelly Bean," Elliott murmured to her as he kissed the side of her head.

"You too," she whispered back.

It was an amazing performance, and everyone knew it.