Acting On Love

The weekend went by slowly and painfully, but eventually it did end. For once I actually had mixed feelings about having to go to acting. I was excited - excited to see Ville again, and to see if I could put what Lisa had said to the test. I wanted to see whether there was any chance that he felt the same. However, at the same time, I was dreading it - I couldn't take much more of the cold shoulder he was giving me.

To my surprise, I was actually early - for the first time - to class. Ville was already in the theatre, setting up some scenery for the play. He turned to look at me when I walked in, and cast his glance back at the scenery when he saw me watching him.

"Hi, Ville," I said quietly, hoping he would hear me.

"Hi, Kristen," he said with his back to me.

"Looks like I'm early..." I said, trying to keep up the small-talk. I sat down on the chair that was closest to him, craving to just give up the disguise and stand right next to him. But I managed to restrain myself.

"Looks like you are," he confirmed, looking at me once through the corner of his eyes. My watchful eyes didn't miss the sly smile he tried to hide when he looked back at the props.

"So, umm...you said you liked my t-shirt..." I said, beginning to talk utter gibberish. It didn't matter - it worked. He turned around completely and looked at me. Mission accomplished.

He looked confused, but didn't say anything.

"Last week," I quickly added.

"Oh, right," he nodded, and began to laugh. I smiled. His cheeks turned rosy. "It was a nice t-shirt."

His eyes seemed to be hooked on mine for what was a few precious seconds.

"Thanks," I said, starting to feel the muscles in my mouth tug at my lips. He made me smile so easily...

My smile faded the second he turned back to the scenery.

"I guess I'll have to wear it more often, then," I said, trying to conceal the enjoyment I got from saying that.

I stood up and began to slowly walk towards him. I knew I was stepping over an invisible line in my mind, but I just wanted to be closer to him. So close that I could count the hairs of stubble on his chin.

"Maybe you should," he said, lifting up a 2D tree. "But I like what you're wearing right now."

He began walking towards the other side of the stage, carrying the tree. He smiled as I instinctively looked down at what I was wearing - a black tank top, and my scarf. I'd already taken off my jacket.

"Uh...Ville?" I asked nervously, as his eyes were still on mine. I wanted to ask him something I'd been meaning to ask him days ago. I knew it was one of my only chances at finding out what he was really thinking.

"Yes, Kristen?" he said, still looking at me with warmth in his green eyes. He rested the tree against the stage, still not taking his eyes away from mine.

"Last week...you...you apologised to me. But you never told me what it was for..."

The moment the words had left my mouth, I knew they'd hit a nerve. His eyes flickered to the floor, and he gulped. Why was he nervous? What was he hiding?

He opened his mouth, as if to talk, but he only groaned a sigh. He looked up at me again. He shifted about anxiously.

"I said sorry for..." he paused. "For staying away from you," he finally blurted out, just as the doors of the theatre swung open, and the sound of footsteps followed.

I looked at him, desperate to hear more. His eyes shifted off mine as if he'd catch a disease by making contact with them. Other students were now in the room. I cast my eyes from my peers and looked back at him. He had his back turned to me now. He was looking at the floor, and his hands were gripping the stage tightly.

I backed away from him and sat down in a theatre chair, where everyone else now was. It took him a long time to finally turn around and greet the class.

"I've organised for some...some scenery to be made," he said, not confidently as usual, as his eyes scanned each face in front of him - all except for mine. "Well, let's get started, then."

Everyone around me stood up and went to the stage. I was left, sitting alone, watching Ville from afar. This time, though, he watched me, too, from his chair on the stage. His eyes looked worried. It was then that I decided which option I would follow out until the end:

Option 3) Probably the worst of them all - tell him.