KISSING PRACTICE

The auditorium buzzed with teenage chatter and the rustling of scripts, but all Elara could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. Her name had been called—her name—for the lead role in Juliet and the Flame. She’d blinked, frozen in her seat, sure she’d misheard. But the giggles confirmed it. This wasn’t a dream. It was a prank. “I guess they really wanted a realistic tragic heroine,” someone whispered behind her. Laughter followed, sharp and cutting. Elara stood slowly, her oversized hoodie hanging loose over her frame, like armor. She kept her eyes low as she walked to the front of the room, past rows of mocking eyes. Every step felt like a punch to the gut. The drama teacher, Miss Hargrove, smiled brightly, oblivious or pretending to be. “Elara, I think this role will really challenge you.” Yeah. Like walking through fire. She took the script with trembling fingers. That night, as she lay in bed, the lines blurred together. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to be laughed at on stage. She didn’t even know why they’d chosen her. She wasn’t pretty. She wasn’t popular. She wasn’t... Juliet. But the next day, everything shifted. She found him leaning against the lockers like he owned the hallway—Kade Maddox. Leather jacket, bruised knuckles, and a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The guy who never cared about anything... least of all drama club. “You’re gonna bomb,” he said coolly. “Thanks,” she muttered, trying to walk past him. “But,” he added, stopping her, “I can help. If you don’t wanna look like a complete disaster up there.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you help me?” He shrugged. “Call it boredom. Or maybe I like underdogs.” She stared at him. He was trouble. He was chaos wrapped in charm. But the part that scared her most? He was serious. “And besides,” he added, flashing a grin, “you’re gonna need someone to practice those kissing scenes with.” Her cheeks flamed. “What?!” “Page 37. Juliet kisses the Flame. Rehearsals get... physical.” Elara’s stomach flipped. This was going to be a disaster. Or maybe… the start of something else entirely. The idea of kissing Kade Maddox made Elara’s brain short-circuit. Kade. The school’s unofficial heartbreaker. The boy who got suspended for punching a guy over a pack of cigarettes. The same guy who had once been caught racing his motorbike through the school parking lot like it was a video game. And now… he wanted to help her? Her gaze darted toward the drama board where her name was still pinned under the word “JULIET” in big, bold letters. She could practically hear the cackles of the drama club girls as they watched this unfold from down the hallway. “Is this some part of the joke too?” she asked, folding her arms tightly over her chest. Kade tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. “If I wanted to humiliate you, I’d just upload a bad photo of you online like the rest of them. But I’m offering to help you, not mess with you.” “You don’t even do drama.” “Exactly,” he said, pushing off the locker and standing at his full height. “Which means I don’t care about the gossip, or who gets the lead, or who’s trying to set you up. I just think... you could surprise everyone. Including yourself.” That made her pause. She wasn’t used to people saying things like that. Most of the time, she was just the punchline. The quiet, overweight girl who took up space in the back of the classroom and tried to disappear behind baggy clothes and sarcasm. The one with the lunch tray everyone avoided, like self-worth was contagious. And yet here he was, Kade freaking Maddox, offering her something strange and terrifying—a chance. Elara’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I can’t act. I freeze when people look at me.” He smirked. “Then I’ll teach you how to unfreeze.” “Why? Why bother?” Kade leaned closer, his voice lowering just enough to send a chill up her spine. “Because I see what they’re doing to you. And maybe I’m just tired of watching people burn without ever getting a match of their own.” Her breath caught. Before she could think of something clever—or at least sarcastic—Miss Hargrove’s voice echoed down the hall. “First rehearsal in fifteen, everyone! On stage!” Kade winked. “See you up there, Juliet.” She watched him walk away, a mix of confidence and recklessness in every step. Her stomach churned. This had to be a trap. Right? She made her way into the theater slowly, dreading every second. The drama club’s queen bee, Savannah, sat perched on the edge of the stage like it was her throne. Her two clones flanked her, eyes narrowed in unison. “Oh look,” Savannah said sweetly, loud enough for the entire cast to hear. “Our star has arrived.” Elara didn’t answer. She just moved to the corner of the stage and sat cross-legged, flipping through her script with trembling fingers. The lines blurred again. Words she didn’t feel worthy to say. Emotions she wasn’t brave enough to show. Savannah’s voice cut through the silence. “So, Elara, you practicing those kissing scenes yet? Might wanna warn Kade—he could suffocate under all that lipstick.” Laughter erupted. Elara’s cheeks burned. But before she could fire back with something, anything—Kade stepped onto the stage. “No one’s dying from a kiss,” he said lazily, tossing his jacket onto a chair. “But if you keep flapping your lips, Savannah, someone might die of boredom.” Silence. Elara’s eyes widened as Savannah’s jaw dropped. He walked over and plopped down beside Elara like it was the most natural thing in the world. She could barely breathe. “You ready?” he asked, like the chaos he just caused wasn’t even a thing. “For what?” “To get good.” He grinned. “Starting with confidence. That’s half the act.” She swallowed hard. “And the other half?” He looked at her then, not smirking, not teasing. Just... looking. “Believing you deserve the spotlight.” No one had ever said that to her. Ever. Rehearsal started with warm-ups. Miss Hargrove had them reading through lines while walking in circles, projecting their voices into the empty seats. Elara mumbled at first, barely audible. Kade nudged her with his elbow. “C’mon, Juliet. Give the ghosts in the balcony something to listen to.” She glared at him but said her line louder. Her voice cracked. “You’re not gonna break,” he whispered. “You’re not glass.” And maybe, for the first time, she started to believe him. They stumbled through the first act awkwardly, but Kade made her laugh during breaks, mocking the melodramatic lines and pretending to swoon every time she read a love scene. His teasing wasn’t cruel—it was oddly comforting. Like he was saying yeah, this is ridiculous, but we’re in it together. By the end of rehearsal, Elara’s voice was a little louder. Her shoulders, a little straighter. As they packed up, Kade tossed her a water bottle. “Same time tomorrow?” She blinked. “You’re serious about helping me?” “Dead serious.” He leaned in close again, his voice low and warm. “And you might wanna actually read page 37 tonight.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “Why?” He grinned. “Because next week... we start kissing practice.” And with that, he walked off the stage. Elara stood frozen, clutching her script, the words on page 37 glowing like fire. Whatever this was—prank, rescue, or something in between—it was just beginning.