Whiplash: A Sports Romance by Tabatha Kiss Page A

no, Junior Morgan is standing there, leaning against the wall outside of Young’s office with two cups of coffee in his hands.
    “Hey.” I step forward with suspicion. “What are you doing here?”
    He holds out one of the coffees. “Black, as you like it.”
    “What are you doing here?” I ask again. “You shouldn’t keep coming back here. If someone sees you and tells my father—”
    “Relax,” he says. “This is the theatre department . No jocks would be caught dead in here. We’re safe.”
    “Then why are you here?”
    “I figured you could use some moral support.” He holds the coffee out a little further, forcing me to take it from him. “Cast list gets posted at eight, right?”
    “Who told you that?”
    “The Internet.”
    “Why are you looking up audition schedules on the Internet?”
    “So I could surprise you with coffee.”
    “Why?”
    He chuckles. “You’re very cranky in the morning. I’ll have to remember that—”
    “Junior.”
    “I just wanted to see your face when you got the role,” he says, pushing off the wall. “I saw part one yesterday and I didn’t want to miss part two.”
    I furrow my brow. “What do you mean you saw part one yesterday?”
    He grins. “How did you guys make that slap look so real ? Did you actually slap him?”
    All of my blood drains from my face. “You watched the audition?”
    “I was on the balcony. You had no idea?”
    “No…” I blink. “Why were you there?”
    “Because the audition was important to you and I wanted to support you.” He takes a sip of his coffee, filling the silence while I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. “Why are you always so surprised when I do something thoughtful?”
    “Because you’re Junior Morgan.”
    He laughs. “Fair point.”
    “Good morning, Ms. Pierce.”
    I twitch at Mr. Young’s old, stern voice as he pops out of his office and I turn around to face him. “Good morning, Mr. Young.”
    He slides out in front of his bulletin board and pins a paper to its center. “I think you’re going to be quite pleased,” he says, flashing me the first smile I’ve ever seen on him. “I certainly was.”
    Without another word, Mr. Young ducks into his office and closes the door behind him.
    I twist back around to Junior and he juts his chin towards the wall. “Well… go on,” he says, smiling.
    Oh, crap. This is it.
    All the butterflies. All the sleepless hours left waiting to know. It all ends now; either with blissful happiness or crushing disappointment.
    I step over to the bulletin board and look for my name.
     
    Nora … Eliza Pierce
     
    “Holy shit,” I breathe. “I got the lead.” I spin around to look at Junior. “I got the lead!”
    He nods his head, seemingly unsurprised by it all. “I knew you would.”
    I grip my chest, feeling a surge of unyielding emotion tear me apart.
    “Did he post it?!”
    Grant comes charging around the corner towards us, out of breath and sweating. “Traffic sucks. Did I miss it?!”
    I step back to give him room and he gasps so wide, his jaw practically detaches.
    “I got the lead!” he gasps. I point to the next name down and Grant squeals at me. “You got the lead!”
    “We got the lead!”
    We crush together in excitement and Grant squeezes me so hard I can barely breathe.
    When he finally releases me, I turn around to look for Junior but he’s nowhere to be seen.
    My excitement falls as I glance down the hall looking for him, hoping I just missed him but he’s gone.
    I hand my coffee to Grant. “I’ll be right back.”
    I move quickly down the hall towards the lobby to look for Junior. Before I round the corner, a hand latches around my arm and pulls me into an empty classroom.
    Junior closes the door and presses me against the wall. “Congratulations,” he says before crushing his lips on mine.
    I lean into the kiss, feeling it all the way down into my toes as his hands travel down my body. “Thanks for coming,” I tell him, “at eight