“What the hell?” Sam laughs, so beautiful that I no longer feel pain. It’s rare that natural blondes have brown eyes, but everything about Samantha Cocker is rare. “Why were you bent over like that? I hit the hardest part of your forehead.” 

While stealing a quick glance to her glistening neck, wishing for the millionth time that I could kiss it, I laugh, “Sam, holy shit, I didn’t see you!” 

“Is it bleeding?” 

To examine her nose, I lean a little closer than I should for the betterment of my own sanity. She’s sweaty from the audition. I love this smell. Lord knows it’s familiar. 

We’ve been dancing together since we were six, when my parents enrolled me in classes, despite my early objections. I mistakenly thought I wanted sports. Turned out I was wrong. Though some say this is one. We sure train as hard.

“Nah, you’re good.” I rake my hair back as I bend to show her my mess. “I just noticed ketchup on my tank top. Look! Think they’ll care?”

“You’re auditioning for the musical, too?” 

“They asked me to try out for the lead’s brother.” 

She reacts with the surprise due such an announcement. She and I always dance background.

“That’s amazing! Here’s what you do. Tell them he spilled the ketchup on you to mess with your audition. Then roll your eyes and say, Brothers!”  

She’s got three; she's the expert.

I’ve got one sister, five years older with no sense of humor. Life is a serious game for Hope. She’s out for blood and do not get in her way. If you’re nice, she takes that as weakness. I steer clear. Like last night when we stopped by for dinner, she grilled Mom on why she won’t leave Dad. This audition gave me an excuse to dodge the broken record of that none-of-her-business conversation. 

“How long were you here?” 

Sam misinterprets my accidentally checking out her hot body, and teases me, “Don’t judge my sweat! Just shows I worked for it.” 

“This face?” I circle my index finger. “Admiration. How’d you do?” 

“Good.” 

“You’re lying.” 

She crumbles, playing with her braid as her sweet eyes dart away on the confession, “Terrible. I did terribly.”  

“No way.”

“I did.” 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know, Logan. I wasn’t on my game up there. Off day. No big deal.”

This is what I love about you, Sam. You could unload all of your shit onto me — and it’s probably about your sister, Lexi, again — but that would be selfish, and you never are.

Wishing we weren’t two feet apart, concern deepens my voice. “Any chance?” 

“Um…yeah.” She gives me a huge smile. “I finally clicked into it. I was really there, you know.” 

“The zone, man, I love that.” 

“Isn’t it the best feeling?” 

“It’s everything.” 

You’re everything.

You. Are. Everything. 

She smiles, “They kept me past the background dancers, too. They only chose three of us out of over a hundred, can you believe that?”

“What was it for?”

“You know I can’t sing. Well, the lead guy falls in love with a girl but she never sings. She never even speaks, Logan! She just—”

We say it at the same time, “—dances.”

“I could totally do this. It could be me going to New York!”

This production is merely previewing in Atlanta. It’s a common thing for plays to work out kinks here before traveling to the kingdom of greatness. Producers will test the possibilities before spending the big cash.

“You’d be amazing.”

She smacks my arm, the sting so sweet. “Brother of the lead? That could be huge! You have to call me after! I hope you get it.”

“I hope we both get it.”

“Marion is in there now.”

I slide my gaze up the skyscraper. “Fuck her.”

Samantha laughs, “Stop it. She means well.”

“Her ego doesn’t. I need to go up and do my thing.”

Heading off to the car she shares with Lexi, Sam says, “Take no prisoners, Logan! Show them what you’re made of!”

Watching her walk, I inhale need and call out, “Samantha!”

She flips around, “Yeah?” walking backward in tights that make her legs shine.

“You’re the best dancer I know. Marion can’t hold a candle to you.” I give her a wink, and head inside.

Samantha, what would life be like if we both went to New York City, dancing every night in a hit musical? Maybe outside of Atlanta I’d shuck this friend-label and take you in my arms for all the many things I want to do to you.

I’m going to nail this bad boy.

You and me?

Broadway bound!