Free The Perfect Guy (Books We Love Young Adult Romance) by Ann Herrick Page A

being painted red." Pres grinned. "But I was in the mood to celebrate, so I made do with what was available. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you stay for supper, Josh? We can celebrate our acceptances to the colleges of our choice. I’ll make pizza."
    Josh hesitated. He looked from Pres to me and back to Pres again. "Thanks, but no. Three’s a crowd. Besides, I’m kind of worn out. Guess I’m not used to so much paperwork."
    A twinge of guilt pricked at me —I was glad Josh turned down Pres’s invitation. I wanted to be alone with Pres. Josh looked tired, anyway, the way he was slumped in his chair.
    After Josh left I hung around in the kitchen while Pres made pizza. Finally I sort of sidled up to him as he sifted flour , and I squeezed his arm. The tips of my fingers tingled from touching him. "Congratulations again on getting into Yale."
    Pres turned to look at me with those hypnotic blue-green eyes of his. "Thanks," he said. "I’m really happy about it. And Dad is proud."
    I wondered if I dared congratulate Pres with a kiss, or if that would be overdoing it. I should’ve done it when we first heard the good news, then it would have been more spontaneous. Whatever else I did, I was at least going to keep the conversation going with him. "Yale has a great law school, too, doesn’t it?"
    "Oh, yeah," Pres said as he kneaded the dough. "They also have a good drama department and the Yale Repertory Theater."
    "Drama?"
    Pres laughed. "You don’t have to look so shocked. I was merely stating a fact."
    "I’m not shocked."
    Pres must have been joking. His jokes just weren’t obvious like Josh’s were, that was all. Pres was too serious to consider acting as a career . Everyone knew Pres was going to be a lawyer. A dedicated, compassionate lawyer. Everyone knew that ….
    He must have been joking.
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    I sat at the end of the front row in the school theater and read along in my script as Pres and Celeste rehearsed their parts as James and Alta Peck. They were perfect in the roles, just as I’d intended.
    What I couldn’t understand was how Bill could have chosen Alicia Johnson as Celeste’s understudy. She was more than a bit scatterbrained for the part. He must have been influenced by the fact that her build and long black hair were similar to Celeste’s. I’d written a specific description of Alta into the script, hoping that would clinch the role for Celeste.
    "Where do you suppose I’ll ever find a Revolutionary War cannon?" Josh whispered as he slipped into the seat next to me.
    "You’re resourceful, you’ll think of something," I said. "Besides, you didn’t have to volunteer to do the props."
    "I wanted to have something to do with the play after investing all that time on the script. You’re assistant director, so that was out. I’ll bet you have an in with the director."
    "Shhh!" I elbowed Josh to be quiet.
    I wasn’t really sure why Bill wanted me as his assistant, but I knew it wasn’t to disturb rehearsals by talking. Celeste would never say "I told you so," but she’d been right about how long it might take for me to form a close relationship with Bill.
    I wasn’t getting very far with Pres either. He was nice enough, but in such a brotherly way that he might as well be an actual sibling. I’d seen more of Josh than Pres in the past few weeks, since Josh had spent almost every free moment he had helping me with the script. He’d been great at bolstering me whenever I needed it, especially whenever Bill suggested cuts in the script. Josh accepted them better than I did, and was able to point out that the cuts helped the pace. I, unfortunately, had a tendency to think that my words were carved in stone.
    I had to remind myself that Bill probably had my best interests at heart. Just this morning he’d given me what seemed remotely like a compliment. Mom had come in with the mail, waving a post card.
    "This is for you, Rebecca!"
    I wondered why she was so excited until I saw the