Page 38 of C*cky Best Friend
Chapter Sixteen
Samantha
For our Sunday matinee, three singers show up with horse throats and are sent home. Ms. Galloway announces, “We have another week and a half in Atlanta. Watch yourselves! Take your vitamin C, people. Be smart. Don’t blow it.”
One of the singers turns, holding onto the doorframe. “You’re not kicking us out of the show, are you?”
“If I was kicking you out of the show I would tell you I was kicking you out of the show. Now go home. Get some rest. We’ll run light today. Be back before tonight’s curtain or you’re out.”
His eyes go wide and he rushes to tell the others who’d already left.
The rest of us shuffle our weight, sharing glances that say, she’s not fucking around. Logan locks eyes with me. He’s not in danger—he’s been stepping it up lately. I’ve never seen him quite this committed. His usual skill-level has been surpassed like he’s practicing outside of performances on his own.
We haven’t been hanging out like we normally do. He’s been super-focused and keeping to himself like he plans to make Broadway his, no matter who else might audition for his part up there.
Asher and I are dating, everyone knows it, and we’re in that pink fluffy stage I always heard about. Where everything you say sounds like cotton candy and watermelon lemonade on a warm summer’s day.
Logan is giving us space. I think that’s pretty cool of him. We say hello and goodbye, but other than that, I’m all about Asher, sinking deeper into happiness.
We’re taking it slow. He hasn’t made a move after I corrected him on opening night. We’ve kissed and held hands, took our breaks together, gone home to pass out from exhaustion after each show. Talked on the phone every night before our heads hit the pillow.
I’m ready for more.
I think.
Hmm, I’m still not sure.
There’s something blocking me. The timing isn’t right. What’s the rush?
Maybe I’m just nervous.
“We open the house in twenty minutes.” Galloway waves us away as she heads to Rogess.
Asher approaches me and mutters under his breath, “Better start sucking up.” He walks toward his dressing room, but I pause to wait for Logan. Asher asks, “You coming?”
“No, you go on ahead.”
He stares at me a beat and walks away, raking his hair back like he has nothing to worry about.
Logan’s makeup is already on and he seems prepared, which is why I thought he has a moment to talk. “Have you been taking vocal lessons?” I ask, head tilted by curiosity.
He shrugs, “Yeah.”
“I noticed.”
He’d been fidgeting like something is on his mind, but now his gaze locks onto me, cobalt eyes sharp. “It’s some girl I found online, teaching lessons. We do video chats. She listens, gives me notes. It changed my breathing. Turns out I wasn’t singing from my diaphragm. I never had lessons before.”
One of our lighting technicians runs by us so we step aside as I say, “You have a really beautiful voice. I guess your parents never thought to put you in a singing class, huh?”
“Guess not. You really think I sound good?”
My smile broadens. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, you know that. You’re taking this seriously, aren’t you? It’s finally happening for us.”
“There’s nothing more serious than a lifelong dream, Samantha.” He staring at me so intensely I can’t look away.
Galloway whisper-yells. “The house is open!”
Logan turns first. It feels as if a spell is broken. I blink at him as he vanishes behind one of the many black curtains.