Falcon.” Contrary to popular belief, my dear, I know precisely what I’m doing.
The Little Leaf door opens with a jingle, and in walks my audience.
The Leftover Squad. Full lineup: Ludo, snuggled halfway inside Peroxide Eric’s military coat; Fili and Simon, the doom twins, gauntly perfect in identical black skinnies and pointy boots; Dai, bouncing in like Tigger and propelling Henry forward to show him off.
Betsy raises an eyebrow.
“Hey, guys, was wondering if you’d make it,” I say, ultracasual, gently nudging the Dread Pirate to ensure the screen is enticingly visible.
I catch Betsy’s eye.
OWE.
YES.
Phase Two of Operation: Authentic Boy is going perfectly to plan.
The Lovely Safak drops in to see Teddy, and helps out inthe kitchen between kissy-breaks. I scribble down orders, smirking as Simon requests the most Goth items on the menu (black currant tea and Darkest Chocolate Brownies) for them both, without Fili having to say a word. I worry for a minute at Henry’s amused look, as he takes in the mismatched mugs and the worn bit on the arm of the sofa: He’s probably used to posh china and waitresses who don’t spill things on you. But Betsy threatens to force-feed Dai cream teas if he gets anymore buff (which makes him go all pink, even though you can tell he’s loving it), and Henry shakes her hand and they geek out together over Ceylon versus Darjeeling. Peroxide Eric sprawls on the green velvet sofa, Ludo snuggling pointedly farther into his coat, one beady eye enviously watching Safak lean over the counter to ruffle the flour out of Teddy’s hair.
And I observe, invisibly, as Dai’s curiosity drags him to sneak a peek at the open laptop; as he whispers gleefully to Ludo, who then quite urgently needs a teaspoon and to linger at the counter, reading, while she’s finding one; as the laptop catches Fili’s eye too while she’s waiting in the bathroom queue and she blinks at it; while Dai and Ludo watch and giggle from the sofa.
“So, what’s up?” I say innocently, hopping up on the nearest table.
Ludo, Dai, and Henry exchange smirky and faintly guilty looks.
“Dai’s being a crazy dumb person,” says Ludo, barely missing a beat.
This is even better than I’d hoped. Now they’re pretending Ed is their little secret, too.
“Afraid so,” says Henry, smoothly picking up the thread like a pro. “Mr. Busy and Important here has decided he’s too good for slumming it on the stage.”
“Even though it’s going to be, like, THE thing that everyone is doing, and we’re, like, never even going to SEE him this term if he doesn’t,” adds Ludo.
Dai throws up his hands. “All I said was I might not be able to do swimming and squash club and the musical. Which is apparently the end of the world.”
“He thinks he did a bad audition,” explains Henry, fondly.
“Not true,” says Fili.
“And Fili would know,” Henry adds. “Secret starlet, this one. Everyone else is wailing about vocal warm-ups and ‘what’s my motivation,’ and she just stands up and sings. No accompaniment. Note-perfect, clear as a bell. Best audition I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?” says Peroxide Eric, shifting around on the sofa, and sliding his eyes up and down Fili thoughtfully. “Now that’s what I call a hidden talent.”
Ludo gives him a prod with a glossy peach fingernail, but I don’t think he means it in a sarky way. Fili doesn’t seem to, either. I mean, she rolls her eyes, but there’s definitely a little smile at the corners of her lips.
I try to imagine ‘80s-styled glittery musical superstar Fili. It’s…weird.
“Anyway, Phil hasn’t even DECIDED on the casting yet, so he should totally just wait.”
“You’re calling him Phil now?” says Peroxide Eric.
“You wouldn’t understand, baby, but calling him Mr. Venables is, like, SO not an accurate representation of the director/cast dynamic?”
Ludo rubs Peroxide Eric’s chest reassuringly. He gives her a little pat
The Little Leaf door opens with a jingle, and in walks my audience.
The Leftover Squad. Full lineup: Ludo, snuggled halfway inside Peroxide Eric’s military coat; Fili and Simon, the doom twins, gauntly perfect in identical black skinnies and pointy boots; Dai, bouncing in like Tigger and propelling Henry forward to show him off.
Betsy raises an eyebrow.
“Hey, guys, was wondering if you’d make it,” I say, ultracasual, gently nudging the Dread Pirate to ensure the screen is enticingly visible.
I catch Betsy’s eye.
OWE.
YES.
Phase Two of Operation: Authentic Boy is going perfectly to plan.
The Lovely Safak drops in to see Teddy, and helps out inthe kitchen between kissy-breaks. I scribble down orders, smirking as Simon requests the most Goth items on the menu (black currant tea and Darkest Chocolate Brownies) for them both, without Fili having to say a word. I worry for a minute at Henry’s amused look, as he takes in the mismatched mugs and the worn bit on the arm of the sofa: He’s probably used to posh china and waitresses who don’t spill things on you. But Betsy threatens to force-feed Dai cream teas if he gets anymore buff (which makes him go all pink, even though you can tell he’s loving it), and Henry shakes her hand and they geek out together over Ceylon versus Darjeeling. Peroxide Eric sprawls on the green velvet sofa, Ludo snuggling pointedly farther into his coat, one beady eye enviously watching Safak lean over the counter to ruffle the flour out of Teddy’s hair.
And I observe, invisibly, as Dai’s curiosity drags him to sneak a peek at the open laptop; as he whispers gleefully to Ludo, who then quite urgently needs a teaspoon and to linger at the counter, reading, while she’s finding one; as the laptop catches Fili’s eye too while she’s waiting in the bathroom queue and she blinks at it; while Dai and Ludo watch and giggle from the sofa.
“So, what’s up?” I say innocently, hopping up on the nearest table.
Ludo, Dai, and Henry exchange smirky and faintly guilty looks.
“Dai’s being a crazy dumb person,” says Ludo, barely missing a beat.
This is even better than I’d hoped. Now they’re pretending Ed is their little secret, too.
“Afraid so,” says Henry, smoothly picking up the thread like a pro. “Mr. Busy and Important here has decided he’s too good for slumming it on the stage.”
“Even though it’s going to be, like, THE thing that everyone is doing, and we’re, like, never even going to SEE him this term if he doesn’t,” adds Ludo.
Dai throws up his hands. “All I said was I might not be able to do swimming and squash club and the musical. Which is apparently the end of the world.”
“He thinks he did a bad audition,” explains Henry, fondly.
“Not true,” says Fili.
“And Fili would know,” Henry adds. “Secret starlet, this one. Everyone else is wailing about vocal warm-ups and ‘what’s my motivation,’ and she just stands up and sings. No accompaniment. Note-perfect, clear as a bell. Best audition I’ve ever heard.”
“Really?” says Peroxide Eric, shifting around on the sofa, and sliding his eyes up and down Fili thoughtfully. “Now that’s what I call a hidden talent.”
Ludo gives him a prod with a glossy peach fingernail, but I don’t think he means it in a sarky way. Fili doesn’t seem to, either. I mean, she rolls her eyes, but there’s definitely a little smile at the corners of her lips.
I try to imagine ‘80s-styled glittery musical superstar Fili. It’s…weird.
“Anyway, Phil hasn’t even DECIDED on the casting yet, so he should totally just wait.”
“You’re calling him Phil now?” says Peroxide Eric.
“You wouldn’t understand, baby, but calling him Mr. Venables is, like, SO not an accurate representation of the director/cast dynamic?”
Ludo rubs Peroxide Eric’s chest reassuringly. He gives her a little pat
Similar Books
