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"She can't go on stage," Filippa announces calmly, and the room explodes into chaos as actors speculate over what will happen, and who will replace Wren as Juliet.
"Does anyone know Juliet's lines?" Meredith asks, her voice cutting through the cacophony.
The room falls silent, and glances are exchanged, but no one speaks.
I look at James sidelong. I don't know all of Juliet's lines, but I know some, from practicing with him day in and day out. Perhaps I know enough to make this work.
James catches my gaze, and his eyes flicker with understanding–then excitement–and he nods.
I raise my hand.
"Oliver?" Meredith says, sounding impatient. "What is it?"
"I know-" I hesitate, thinking through acts and scenes and lines "- probably about half of Juliet's lines."
Richard scowls.
"We don't need half a Juliet."
"It might work," Filippa says thoughtfully. "Oliver's a quick study."
I grin, and take the script someone passes me, flipping to Juliet's first lines: how now! who calls?
I mouth them to myself, letting the shapes settle on my tongue and into my memory.
Scene 3 –my first scene– is a blur, and so is most of scene 5, and before I know it, I'm making my way through the overly choreographed steps of a waltz, attempting to avoid tripping in the ballgown that has been hastily tailored to fit me, and then my hand is pressed against James's as he says O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;/They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
I can feel my heart drumming against my ribs as I recite my line, and James says his, and here comes the kiss–Meredith had shown us how to fake a stage kiss, so that’s what I’m expecting. But James doesn't fake it. He kisses me square on the lips, and it's chaste and fleeting, but his lips are rough and warm and suddenly I realize that I've wanted to kiss him for a long, long time.
James is reciting his line, his voice rough, and it draws me out of the shock of that realization.
Then have my lips the sin that they have took, I reply, breathless and giddy, and suddenly I realize how Juliet must have felt, and James is looking at me like I'm his entire world.
Give me my sin again, he says, his voice rasping with emotion, and I lean toward him, and his lips crash into mine.
The second kiss is no less stunning than the first, and when I step away from James to the Nurse's summons, I'm painfully aware that my cheeks are flaming.
"You and James?" Filippa hisses when I step offstage.
"What about us?" I ask, adjusting my hair with trembling fingers.
"I didn't know you two were together," she says over her shoulder as she goes onstage.
I stare blankly after her, my mind stuck on her words.
James and I aren't together. It's acting, just roles on a stage. He would kiss Wren the same, wouldn't he? And besides, I don't feel that way about him- do I?
Then I remember the way his lips felt against mine, and I whisper a curse.
I'm in love with James Farrow.