Out in the Field (Out in College 4)

“Ta-da! Chicago.” He sifted through a few loose pages tucked in the inside pocket and presented them to me like a gift. “You know the story, right?”

“No,” I admitted.

Phoenix gaped in disbelief, then shook his head. “It’s okay. We can watch the movie together sometime. You’ll love it. I won’t spoil it for you, but I need to tell you a little about Billy Flynn. He’s the best lawyer in Chicago. He’s never lost a case. He’s sexy, masculine, and very persuasive. But he’s also very intelligent…and kind of greedy. He’ll basically do whatever it takes to win. The problem is I’m nothing like Billy, so I’m going to really have to dig deep to channel his unapologetic self-confidence. That’s where you come in.”

“O-kay. How?”

“Well, the scene they gave me to audition is a conversation between Roxie and Billy. You’ll read Roxie and prompt me for my lines. If I don’t sound masculine enough, let me know and maybe give me tips on how to up my straight game.”

“But I’m not straight,” I replied glibly.

“But you know how to act straight.”

“I don’t ‘act straight,’ Phoenix. I’m just me.”

“Fabulous,” he said in a super campy tone. “Let’s give it a try and—”

“Have you been to Chicago?” I intercepted.

“No. Have you?”

“Yeah, we went on a family trip to see the Cubs at Wrigley when I was twelve.”

He cocked his head curiously. “At the zoo?”

“Huh? No. I don’t think we went to the zoo,” I replied, furrowing my brow.

“Oh. You said cubs…like bears, right?”

“Wrong. The Chicago Cubs. The baseball team.” I shook my head incredulously. “You don’t know the Cubs?”

“You don’t know Billy Flynn?” he countered.

“No, but—”

“I guess we’re even,” he said testily.

I slipped the binder from his lap and set it on the floor next to his bag before pulling him toward me.

“Don’t get mad. I didn’t mean to be a dick. I just…” I squeezed my eyes shut and rested my forehead against his for a moment. “Doesn’t everyone know baseball?”

“No.” He pushed my chest and glared at me. “Lots of people don’t. Welcome to the real world, Max. Not everyone likes or cares about sports. Some people like hiking, biking, swimming, and outdoor adventures.”

“That’s cool.”

“Some people would rather read or go to the theater or—”

“Less cool, but okay,” I teased, wrapping my arm around him. I squeezed him close when he tried to pull away. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I like to read and I don’t know anything about the theater, but I’m willing to learn. And you want to know why?”

“ ’Cause you want me to suck your cock,” he deadpanned.

“Exactly,” I joked.

“Hmph. Shall we get back to Billy and Roxie?”

“Fine.” I let out an exasperated rush of air before reaching for the paper he’d given me. Then I pulled his legs over mine and slipped his boots and socks from his feet.

Phoenix chuckled. “What are you doing?”

“Just helping you get comfortable. All right. I’m ready now. Tell me what to do.”

We went over the scene a few times. I read Roxie’s lines, changing my vocal affectation to make him laugh while he tried out his version of a more masculine tone. After the eightieth read-through…okay, the third…I tossed the script on the coffee table and put my hands in the air.

“What’s the matter? Too deep?” He cleared his throat and reread a line.

“No. That’s not it. If you want my honest opinion, I think you should use your own voice.”

He made a funny face. “I’ve been told my voice is a little too gay. Billy isn’t gay.”

“Make him gay. Make the role yours,” I said.

“It’s Chicago, Max. You can’t change a classic. Think mean streets, hardened desperate souls, and jailbirds. None of that screams fabulous.”

“Maybe not, but it seems like you should be able to play your part and still use your own voice.”

“That sounds kind of…deep.” He reached for his wine and took a sip.

“I’m not known for being deep, so don’t listen to me. It’s not like I know what I’m talking about,” I said with a self-deprecating shrug.

“Don’t put yourself down, Max. You’re a smart guy.”

“About some things, sure. But not plays.”

“I’m not talking about a play. I’m talking about following your instincts. You’re good at that. Better than me. I bounce from idea to idea, but you stick with things and people. You have your feet on the ground. You’re practical, but not boring. You’re focused.”

“Really? I don’t feel that way at all,” I sighed.

“Makes sense. It’s hard to see yourself clearly.”

“Well, maybe in baseball that’s true.”

“I don’t know baseball,” he replied. “I’m talking about everyday stuff, like how to prioritize and get things done. Like planning, grocery shopping, exercising.”

“That’s stuff everyone does.”

Phoenix shook his head. “Not like you. You’re efficient. You know what you want, and you plan accordingly to make it happen.”

I pursed my lips thoughtfully. “If that was true, I would have called you the day after we met.”