The Songs in Our Hearts: A Young Adult Romance(51)

Marshall led me to a section of the backyard where a tent was set up. I had been wondering what it was for. This was where I was apparently supposed to die. Micah came to stand in front of the tent, ready for the next scene, as Paul started up the camera again.

“Stay here. It’ll be safe for you, Elizabeth. Just wait for me,” Micah recited the lines. Originally, Micah had included the kissing scene here, after Victor’s dialogue. I had been quick to scribble it out. But now…now things were different. Things felt different. Instead of walking away like he was supposed to, Micah leaned forward. My eyes widened at his movement. What was he doing? He wasn’t…was he?

His warm lips brushed my forehead as he reached for my hands and squeezed them. I wanted that squeeze to mean something between us. Maybe he had been afraid I would resist and push him away. But as he eased away from me, I knew I wouldn’t have. I would have welcomed the opportunity to feel his lips against mine. My eyes closed and I allowed myself to enjoy our physical connection, even if it was only for the camera. No matter how real I wished it to be.

As he pulled away, I opened my eyes and his gaze held mine. There was something that tugged on my gut and heart. I felt it even more as he walked off the set, away from me. Still, I held up my dress, clambered into the tent, and lay down on the bedding. I wanted to get this next scene right the first time. The less I had to pretend to die, the better.

Marshall and Paul followed me in, rope and camera in hand. Marshall climbed on top of me, and I felt the strands of rope wrap around my neck. But, even as I closed my eyes and pretended to die, all I felt was Micah’s lips on my forehead. I wanted more.

A cry of “Noooooooooo!” echoed all around me, signaling that the scene was over. A wave of relief rushed over me.

“That’s a wrap!” Paul chuckled. “That was awesome!”

Micah stepped into the tent and started to unbutton his costume. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m ready to get out of these clothes and grab a snack at the Mini-Mart. Anyone up for it?”

“Sorry, man,” Paul began. “I gotta get back to the shop. Dad needs me. I’ll be back later, though. We’re meeting at the lake at seven, right?”

“Right,” Micah said. He turned to his other friend. “Marshall?”

“I told the other guys I’d meet up to hang out for a bit. You wanna tag along?”

Micah’s eyes darted to me and then back to Marshall. “Nah, that’s okay,” Micah decided.

“I’m going to go get out of this thing,” I said, lifting the large hoop skirt so I could walk more easily. “I’ll come back out to help take down the set in a sec.”

Paul shook his head kindly. “Don’t worry about it, Charlie. I’ve got it. Tell your dad I said thanks for letting me set up out here.”

“I’ll tell him.” I was glad to get to my room and out of the tight-fitting gown. I hung it up in the back of my closet, then donned a pair of jeans and a blue flannel button-down shirt. When I came back outside, Marshall and Paul were packing up the last of the set pieces, and Micah had already changed.

“If the raft scene goes well, we can get right to editing all of that footage after Monday, and have it turned in just in time,” Micah informed me. “You wanna grab a layered slushy at the Mini-Mart?”

I couldn’t stop the smile growing on my face.

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. We helped Marshall and Paul finish packing up their cars and watched as they drove down the street. Micah patted the roof of his car.

“Come on, Miss Elizabeth. Let’s get us a good ole slushy.”

I climbed into the passenger seat, glad to have the bulk of our assignment knocked out. Micah got into the driver’s seat and started the car. He rolled down his window as The Police blasted from his stereo. I giggled and glanced at him as he adjusted the volume.

“You’re listening to the stalker song?”

“Don’t be hating! ‘Every Breath You Take’ is a classic, romantic song,” Micah said as he backed out of the driveway.

“If you’re a stalker,” I chortled.

“Well, tell me Charlie, what’s your favorite romantic song? Do you have one, or is it one of those stupid, girly T-Swift songs?”

“No way! I’d like to think I have better taste than that.”

“Hit me with it, then. What is Caroline Blake’s favorite romantic song?”

“Well…I’ve always loved Louis Armstrong’s version of ‘La Vie En Rose.’ I imagine a slow dance, in the midst of twinkling lights, on a small French side street, or...” I looked at Micah, who was glancing back between the road and me, a little perplexed. I was sure my song choice was not one he would have guessed.

“Or?” Micah asked expectantly.

“I don’t know. I’ve just...always imagined it to be this perfect, romantic song.” I wasn’t about to tell him how I had often fantasized a wildly, beautiful romantic story of meeting a handsome stranger in Paris, and instantly falling in love with him. There was always a montage of images I’d dream up. The charming French man and I would eat delicious croissants, explore all of the famous tourist destinations—including the Louvre and Notre Dame—and after a quiet evening meal, we’d dance to ‘La Vie En Rose’ on a cobble-stoned square. I knew those sort of things only happened in movies, and my life was far from being a Hollywood blockbuster, plain and simple.