Piper: You're demanding.
Kit: Thank you.
Piper: Are you always demanding?
Kit: Sex is not on the approved discussion list.
Piper: You're no fun.
Kit: Fun isn't on it either.
Piper: Are you teasing?
Kit: Maybe.
Piper: You are. You like teasing.
Kit: That can be our secret too.
Thankfully, Rory doesn't cancel. I don't have to prove anything to Kit. Still, I text him when I get back from lunch.
I text him the next day. And the one after that. For the entire months of January and February, we spend every night—every single one—talking about everything and nothing.
Mostly, it's nothing—how well or poorly the show went, gossip about the other Dangerous Noise or Sinful Serenade guys (the headliners are gossip magnets), recaps of whatever TV shows or movies we're watching.
School is a drag. The only class I enjoy is drama. I pour myself into scene studies. I rehearse twice as much as necessary. I recruit classmates to do extra scenes with me.
No matter how hard I work, I want more. I want all my classes to be drama. I want all my free time devoted to acting. It's not good. I need to scratch this itch so I can focus on practical, money-making skills.
But my time is free and the house is lonely. Rory is busy with her boyfriend. I don't have much company.
Acting is the highlight of my days. Kit is the highlight of my nights.
On a sunny early March afternoon, post Bikram class, I settle onto the deck, ready to text Kit.
But I've already got something from him.
Kit: You ever see The Firm?
Piper: Why? Because I should be a lawyer?
Kit: Because it's amazing, over the top shit. But you should. Where have you been all afternoon?
Piper: Class then Bikram. I do it a few times a week. You think this figure comes naturally?
Kit: Hot yoga?
Piper: You've tried it?
Kit: Tried a lot of stuff in rehab. Don't tell me you haven't noticed how much hotter I am now than when I was using.
Piper: You've always been attractive.
Kit: You're not supposed to tell me.
Piper: You're in better shape, yes.
Kit: That's a start.