one. fugue for tinhorns

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{Dedicated to Amanda, one of my best friends, because she's been here for me since the beginning and because she's plain awesome. Sean O'Pry, yes.}

"You've got to be kidding me if you're telling me that wasn't the best production of a retro musical that you've ever seen," I said as I attempted to crack my back, inching up the aisle filled with people dressed in evening wear. "The casting choices for Adelaide and Sky Masterson were absolutely brilliant, and Sarah Brown's performance was quite commendable."

"Mm." Cara glanced behind us to where our friends were following.

I stopped in my place. "You're not listening to me."

"You think it's a good idea to extol the values of Guys and Dolls to Cara," Dacey's voice said flatly from behind me.

I turned my head so I could meet her bright blue eyes. "Come on!" I waved a hand emphatically even though I knew perfectly that I looked like the dork that I was. "I think she understands the ingenuity of the show now. I can't leave it here—"

"You're boring the hell out of her." Dacey pushed an old lady wearing a pink dress and pearls, who gave her a horrified glare, so that she was walking alongside me.

I spluttered. "That is not true!" I looked over to Cara, who was studiously avoiding eye contact with me. "I happen to be—"

Dacey shook her head.

That pretty much meant that she was going to shut out everything I was going to say until I moved onto a topic that didn't involve old musicals in any way. (That wouldn't happen any time soon.) So I looked over to Cara, just to see if she was interested. Still no eye contact.

The pain of rejection never failed to sting every time—especially when I was getting rejected twice.

The people started to move once again, maybe because some people in wheelchairs had been moved out. My legs were just getting adjusted to moving once again when I heard a single phrase that practically shattered my faith in humanity. Really. I swore my heart just broke. Because really—was that Dominic Amaro speaking?

"I have no idea what the hell the damn show was about," Dom said, probably to his friends, his low voice hitting me. "The plot was incoherent—"

Even though his voice sent shivers down my spine and heat rushing to all parts of my body, I really stopped and fully turned around. And he was standing there, about five inches away from my face, with those dark eyes that could probably stare through my soul if he wanted to (I doubted he did).

And stupidly, the only thing I could think was "damn, how tall he is".

"Do you plan to move?" he said.

Was it stupid that I was practically imagining him proposing to me in this moment? After all, he'd never even once looked at me before even though I shared exactly two classes with him in the last three school years. This—this right here—was the most contact I'd had with him. Ever. Wow. Incredible. Damn.

Unfortunately for me, Dom didn't seem to think the same way I did. (That was really unfortunate.) His expression didn't change much, except now he was raising an eyebrow. "Charlotte, right?"

He knew my name.

Oh damn.

As if she knew that I wouldn't be able to react quickly enough (she probably did know though), Cara grabbed me by the elbow, spinning me around, and started marching forward. Oh. The people had decided to start moving. That was great.

Then, the full force of what I had just done and looked like hit me, and I could feel the heat rushing up to my face. I probably looked like an overripe tomato (my English roots were so annoying—I was either as pale as a vampire or as red as could be from any reason, whether the cold or embarrassment). Oh, thank God Dom wasn't seeing my face right now.

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