Matteo

Being an A student with excellent prospects of getting a scholarship to a good state school has its advantages—well, besides the obvious. In this specific case, the advantage is that my mother doesn’t bug me much and she trusts me as long as I stay out of trouble and make smart choices. Because of this, she usually lets me go wherever I want without asking a million questions about what I’m doing and who I’ll be with, and I don’t have some ridiculous curfew to adhere to. If I’m going to be out after she goes to bed, I just need to let her know. Of course, this hasn’t been an issue lately because I’ve had nowhere to go since starting at Santa Cruz High. Most nights, I’m in bed reading before my mom comes in to say goodnight—assuming she’s even home to say goodnight.

Tonight, however, I have plans. Milo and I are heading to the concert together so I can meet his D&D group and start figuring out which of them is his secret admirer. Or at least, that’s what Milo thinks we’re doing, since I already know who his admirer is.

I don’t take my mother’s trust lightly—all we have is each other, after all. If it wasn’t such a total loser thing to say out loud, I would go so far as to suggest that my mom is my best friend. But since that is a surefire one-way ticket to Loserville, I will keep that secret to myself, thank you very much. But because Mom trusts me to make good choices, I shoot her a text to let her know where I’m going to be. I don’t bother making up some story; I come right out and say I’m going to a concert at school with a new friend, and, just as I thought, my mom is thrilled.

Enjoy your night! She writes back on the drive back to school. I can’t wait to hear all about it! Have fun with your friends. I love you.

I had no idea what to expect from a concert at this school. If anything, I assumed it would be like the other orchestra or band concerts at all the other schools I’ve been in. I’m picturing a bake sale, some overly eager parents filming the whole thing on their phones, band kids in matching button-down shirts. But this is not like that at all. This is an event.

“Woah,” I whisper as I stare out the car window.

“Not what you were anticipating, right?” Milo grins his million-dollar grin as he parks his truck in the student lot.

I laugh. “Definitely not.”

Parked around the main circle of the school’s driveway are at least a dozen food trucks serving every type of cuisine in town. There are fresh lemonade and juice stands and even mocktails that are being made by the principal from a makeshift bar near the entrance.

“I have to admit, this is impressive.” I nod in approval.

“Oh, you have to try this!” Milo shouts, hurrying to grab a couple of samples from an ice cream truck.

“Why is it purple?” I ask as he hands me one of the cups.

“It’s called ube,” he explains. “Purple yam.”

With a shrug, I put a spoonful in my mouth and moan from the pleasure.

“It’s like heaven in a cup,” I tell Milo, who grins back at me.

I suck in a sharp breath, wanting nothing more than to kiss Milo with his perfect, plush lips and sexy tilted smile.

I finish my ice cream on the way into the auditorium, pausing to toss it into the garbage can next to the door. I have a moment of panic, wondering why I would suddenly choose this instance to pretend I have aim, but thankfully the cup goes right into the garbage can, instead of landing upside down on the floor, which is what definitely would have happened in my nightmares.

The auditorium is packed when we walk inside, and I have trouble hiding my shock. Milo does a double take at me when he sees how completely surprised I am.

“I didn’t expect a school concert to be this full,” I say.

Milo laughs and leans in so I can hear him over the roar of noise inside the room.

“That’s because you have never heard our electronic orchestra before,” he explains. “And man, it’s a fucking sound to behold. Are you sure you’re ready for it?”

“Um, I guess so?” I reply.

“You guess so?” Milo laughs. “Come on, you can do better than that.”

I laugh along with him, nodding my head at how underwhelmed I must sound, which is far from how I feel.

“It’s just that I don’t really know much about music,” I admit. “I’m more of a reader than anything else.”

“Can’t you like both?” Milo asks.

“Oh, sure.” I nod, realizing that Milo is into both music and books. He’s a perfect ten. That’s all there is to it. “Totally.”

Milo leads me through the crowd, looking for the perfect seat, but we get stopped by Ms. Green on our way down the aisle. She waves to us, grinning as she comes over.

“My Cyrano and Christian have arrived!” she gushes. “And Matteo, I wanted to introduce you to our third lead—this is Chris, who will be playing Roxanne.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I say loudly over all of the talking and laughing in the auditorium.

“Same,” Chris replies.

I try not to let my eyes sweep down Chris’s body, but it’s hard not to take note of probably the best-dressed person I’ve ever met. Every part of their outfit screams “style.” If I’m not into music, I am definitely not into fashion. I would never be able to put together anything close to Chris’s ensemble, but I can appreciate it. I can also appreciate that it would be easy for anyone to fall in love with someone as attractive as Chris is—super dark brown hair with the palest green eyes and skin like pure silk—though Milo is more my type.

Right away, Milo and Chris exchange a hug as well as a kiss on the cheek, falling easily into conversation about the play. I have to choke back the urge to feel jealous about how easily the two of them get along. There’s no doubt that they are a natural pairing for Cyrano and Roxanne. I don’t know why Ms. Green bothered holding auditions. Christian definitely should die for the two of them to get together. Before I can get too jealous, however, Milo takes my hand and leads me away, waving goodbye to Chris and Ms. Green.

My head feels dizzy as I follow Milo through the crowd, subtly prying my hand away from his before it starts to sweat again. Milo’s world is filled with so many amazing people; it makes me even more confused that he’s never fallen in love with any of them. I try to keep up as he continues to introduce me to the rest of his D&D friends from the community theater, a mix of actors, set designers, stage crew, and more. The group as a whole seems to be slightly older than me and Milo, with many of them in college or grad school, but they’re all relatively young—my guess would be late teens through mid-twenties.

Don’t try to tell any jokes, I warn myself as I shake hands with the woman who paints the backdrops for the sets. You’re not funny. Stick with being smart, maybe even witty, but not funny.

Maybe I have moved around a lot and haven’t had a chance to get to know a lot of people, but this is most definitely the coolest group of people I’ve ever met. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but by the way Milo was being so secretive about playing D&D, I figured the group would be painfully nerdy, an awkward group who shouldn’t be let out in public. Instead, I find myself completely charmed by them, one after another. I have no idea why Milo thinks anything about this group would wreck his reputation.

Once I have met the entire crew, I try to put some thought into what to tell Milo about my alleged investigation. As much as I don’t want to give anyone else the credit for my thoughtful gift, I’m not ready to tell Milo that I’m his secret admirer, so I know I need to come up with something. Maybe it’s safe if I throw him some false leads so he keeps believing I’m some kind of amateur sleuth. After all, in theory no one from the community theater should be a threat to me since Milo has mentioned he’s not interested in anyone he currently knows. With that in mind, my plan is to let Milo get to know and like me while we “look” for this admirer, and then I’ll tell Milo the truth once we’re madly in love. I’ll be like Cyrano himself. It’s the perfect plan…right?

I’m feeling pretty confident as I take my seat next to Milo, watching in awe as Talia takes center stage and leads the band into a cover of Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.”