Free Starry-Eyed by Ted Michael

laughingstock, Tresta and I are again in an idling Subaru at the park. It’s dark and quiet. The dashboard clock blinks 10:45.
    â€œI should go,” she says. “I don’t want to get grounded.”
    â€œAgain,” I say.
    â€œAgain. I have got to be the only girl who ever got grounded for sneaking out to go to a school board meeting.”
    â€œWas it worth it?” I ask. She kisses me. Again. We have been kissing a lot.
    â€œMaybe.”
    There is a brief pause. The crickets sing to us from outside. And this time I break the cardinal rule. I bring up a girl’s ex-boyfriend in a parked car. “Um, so hey—did we ever figure out why Javon didn’t show up at the school board meeting?”
    â€œYeah,” she mumbles. “I thought I told you.” But the way her voice gets quiet and her eyes stare out the window tells me that she’s lying.
    â€œI’m pretty sure you didn’t,” I say.
    â€œOh, well, I don’t really know.” She looks down.
    â€œYou know, for a great actress, you’re a really bad liar.” The icicles-on-my-skin feeling returns. What is she hiding ?
    â€œShut up.” She punches me. “I really am a great actress. Say that part again and kiss me.”
    â€œYou’re trying to change the subject.”
    â€œIt’s working,” she says, kissing me again.
    â€œIt really isn’t,” I say.
    â€œDon’t get all weird. Can we just go back to kissing?”
    â€œNo. No, we cannot.”
    â€œAh, you got weird.” She throws up her hands.
    â€œI did not!” I say, though I totally felt myself getting weird.
    â€œFine. Read for yourself.” She taps her phone a few times and hands it to me. I will paraphrase the texts so as to save your brain melting from grammar sickness.
    TRESTA: Dude, what the hell—where were you the other night?
    JAVON: Where was I supposed to be, baby?
    TRESTA: You don’t remember? You promised to come to the school board meeting and help us save theater.
    JAVON: Oh hell, sorry, I forgot. I got invited to a party up in NYC—couldn’t miss it. I’ll make it up to you. You know I still love you, baby.
    I feel my ears turning red. “Keep reading,” she says.
    TRESTA: The feeling is not mutual.
    JAVON: Give me one more chance. ONE MORE CHANCE.
    TRESTA: I told you, I fell in love with somebody else.
    To this, Javon apparently did not respond.
    I stare at the phone, out the window, and finally at Tresta. The girl in my car. The girl who apparently loves me.
    â€œYou broke up with him ?” I say. “Who did you fall in love with? Do I know the fella?”
    She looks at me with those big, beautiful eyes and smiles.
    â€œWhat can I say?” she says. “You’re a star. And besides, I told you Sondheim makes me hot.” We kiss again. A long, slow, soft, and beautiful kiss. “Just don’t ever rap again.”

    ANECDOTE: IAN HARDING

    I remember the exact moment I decided acting was my life’s passion. This epiphany, if one could call it such, came out of someone else’s mistake.
    I was a senior in high school, and had already auditioned for several colleges and acting conservatories, but I was still a little uncertain. I had been performing throughout high school, loved doing the work, and was reasonably talented, but could I actually do it for the rest of my life? Did I have what it takes?
    The show was How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying , and I was cast as Mr. Biggley, a crotchety older man who runs the World Wide Wicket Company. I forget the exact point in the story, but in one performance the actress playing Rosemary, the young love interest, completely missed her entrance, leaving myself and the other actress onstage with nothing to do. In that moment, having never taken an improv class and without even being conscious of my actions, I started making up lines.
    Something going wrong in a show