Kate in Waiting Becky Albertalli (best way to read books TXT) 📖

“I mean. He’s in a cast—”

“Nope. Brushing your teeth isn’t a two-handed job.”

Ryan shrugs. “I’m just telling you what he said.”

I bite my lip, feeling instantly guilty. Because Ryan’s a saint to drive me to rehearsal, and the last thing he deserves is me being a grouchy little butt. “Seriously, thanks again for driving us,” I say.

He yawns. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“You know . . .” I turn to face him, an idea dawning. “If you want, you could come hang out at rehearsal.”

“Um. I’m good.”

“I’m just saying. Brandie will be there.”

“Okay . . .” Ryan’s phone buzzes in the cupholder, and he grabs it. “All right, Noah says he’ll be down in—”

“Also, Brandie’s a Capricorn,” I inform him.

Ryan looks slightly bewildered.

“For real! Her birthday’s on Christmas, which sucks, because she gets half the amount of presents, and someone always forgets—I mean, not me, obviously. Not the Jews. We remember.” I thump my chest. “But I think it all evens out, because her two-in-one presents are so epic. Like, multiple American Girl dolls. Okay, not multiple per year—”

“I’m . . . not sure where you’re going with this,” says Ryan.

“Where I’m going with this is that Brandie’s a Capricorn and you’re a Virgo, which is perfect!” I give a chef’s kiss.

“I truly have no idea—”

“I’m just saying, I approve of this crush. And I can actually help you with this. I’ll be your wingwoman.”

“You think I have a crush on Brandie?”

I look at him. “Come on. Why else would you be suddenly up for hanging out with me all the time?”

“So let me get this straight. You think the only reason I could possibly want to spend time with you is to get with Brandie.”

I tilt my palms up. “Literally what else could it be?”

The back door behind me yanks open, and I whip my head around, startled.

“Hi!” Noah grins back at me, scooting across the seat to Ryan’s side. “Sorry I’m late.”

I stare at his face. There’s something strange about the skin below his eyes. “Are you . . . wearing makeup?”

“There’s nothing wrong with guys wearing makeup,” Noah says loftily.

“Agreed. It’s just . . .” I bite back a laugh. “Normally, people try to match their skin tone a little bit?”

“It matches!” He leans forward, checking himself out in the rearview mirror.

“Mmm.” I shut one eye.

“It’s a little . . . pale,” says Ryan.

I nod. “You look like a reverse racoon.”

“Oh, well, excuse me for trying to look a little more awake.” He pokes at his undereye. “I think it looks good.”

“Great. You do you.”

He pauses. “Okay, if you happen to have—”

“Here you go.” I pass him a makeup wipe.

Ryan turns the car on, but then he looks at me. “You want to drive?”

I side-eye him. “Uh. What?”

“Do you want to drive? I’ll sit in the passenger seat.” He shrugs. “You should practice.”

“You have to be twenty-one to drive with me.”

“Kind of like how I’m supposed to be twenty-one to drink?”

“Boom,” chimes Noah from the back seat. He pantomimes a mic drop with his makeup wipe.

“Ryan, no—I’m not getting arrested less than a week before opening night.”

“We’re not going to get arrested. Come on. We can run back home for your permit.”

“You think my permit’s going to help when they arrest us? Or when I crash your car? Are you crazy?”

“Kate, you’ve taken Driver’s Ed. You’re not a bad driver. You just need practice. I’m telling you, you could have your license—”

“Okay!” says Noah, poking around his eyes again in the rearview mirror. “How’d I do?”

Ryan looks up at the mirror and shoots him a thumbs-up. “All clear.”

“And I promise I’ll get my license, okay? I’m just busy.”

“You’ve been busy since March.”

“Ryan. The play opens Friday. It’s literally tech week.”

“Okay. But it ends on, what, Sunday? Then what?”

“The cast party,” says Noah. “No fuckboys allowed.”

“Okay, that’s accurate.” I turn back to Ryan. “So what, you’re sick of driving me around or something?”

“No.” Ryan shoots me an eye-rolling half smile. “I just need to know you’ll be able to get around next year.”

He checks the mirrors and starts reversing slowly, and weirdly, I find myself taking mental notes of where he’s looking, where his hands are. Backing out of places is my least favorite part of driving, but Ryan makes it look effortless.

Maybe it will be effortless for me one day, too.

Scene 67

“All right. You know the drill,” says Ms. Zhao. “The whole thing, twice. Start to finish. First run-through, I may stop you with notes. Second time, you’re on your own. And tech week starts tomorrow.” A few people groan. “I know. I know. But we’re going to suck it up and whip this monster into shape. Who’s with me?”

“Me!” yells Mr. D from the piano. He starts playing football fight music, because, you know. We’re all big sports fans here. I catch Noah’s eye and quickly look away, grinning.

“We’ve got costumes hung up in the dressing rooms in alphabetical order. You’ll find a tag on the hanger with your name on it. If you’d like extra practice in your costume, go ahead and wear it. But please—please—put it back on your own hanger, in the exact spot you found it. And do not, I repeat, do not eat in your costume.” Ms. Zhao exhales. “How are we feeling?”

“We’re feeling great,” says Emma, looking around the circle fiercely.

“Then bring it in,” says Ms. Zhao, and we all scoot into a huddle. “One, two, three . . . WE ARE ROSWELL HILL, AND WE ARE ONE.”

“Woo-hoo!” Lindsay Ward does a cheerleading kick, landing with her hands on her hips. “Go team! Go us!”

Luckily, Anderson’s in practically every scene—and even when he’s backstage, he’s usually blocked to enter from stage left. So he spends most of his backstage time on a completely different side of the stage from me. Kind of a lucky break.

Of course, Matt’s a different story. I honestly can’t believe this is my life. My love interest in the musical is my real-life unrequited crush. Who’s now dating my best friend.

Though, now that the shock has worn off, I think I’m