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Reed shifted in his seat. “ ‘And trust me, love, in my eye so do you. / Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!’ ” He leaned back, making his chair squeak. “Damn.”

“I know, right? I love her lines in this scene.”

“The lines were great, but I meant the lighting.”

My lighting?

He stood and moved closer to the open window overlooking the auditorium. “The sun’s coming up but you’ve got it like it’s going down as he leaves. Is that the kind of shadow you’re going for in the tomb at the end of the play?”

“Yep.”

“Brilliant.”

I beamed as warmth fluttered through my entire body.

Wow. He gets me.

“Thanks. Would you like to see what I do with the transition between the mother being alone with Juliet and the father coming in?”

He moved back to his seat. “Absolutely.”

A half hour later, I saved my latest work and covered the board before Reed and I walked down to the stage to turn on the ghost light. I used my phone as a flashlight to guide us through the aisles in the dark.

“So I never asked last night, but how were the fireworks?” He leaped onto the stage with ease, something I could’ve done if I were several inches taller like him. “TJ and I couldn’t see from the street well.”

“They were okay. Would’ve been more fun to watch them with you.” I plugged in the light and clicked it on. It flickered a bit but stayed lit.

“Did you watch them alone, then?” His voice sounded unnaturally high as he sat down near the ghost light, legs dangling off the front of the stage.

“No.” The ghost light in between both of us cast our shadows on the floor. “A couple friends were with me.”

Reed got super quiet, his entire body looking like it turned to stone.

“Hey, you good?” I kicked him lightly. “Got any plans for the weekend? You and Ben work things out yet?”

“No. He still won’t talk to me.” He kept his eyes at his feet. “Granddad’s got a couple things he needs help with, and I want to take Dad’s old pitching net down from the loft in the barn to get some throwing in before next week’s game. You?”

“It’s the annual Founder’s Day Tea at our house on Sunday, so I’ll be busy helping my parents get everything ready.” I groaned. I hated the big brunch and how 90 percent of the people who went to it acted like they were better than everyone else in the town—and the county, for that matter. But Dad was big on tradition, and since his parents threw it when they were alive, it was his job to keep it going.

Too bad it couldn’t be a barbeque. Tea sandwiches were cold, soggy, and gross.

“A big tea party.” Reed chuckled and held out his hand for mine. “Sounds thrilling.”

“Oh, there’s always high drama at high tea.” I threaded my fingers through his and scooted closer to him, letting my head drop against his shoulder. “Would you like to come with me?”

“To the tea party?” He straightened up.

“I mean, I know tea parties are old-fashioned and dumb but if you were there, it wouldn’t suck so much.” And I could finally tell my parents about you.

Not that sneaking around wasn’t fun—it just was a bit hard when the entire town knew both of you and your families.

He cleared his throat. “I mean, I have a lot of work to do helping Granddad—”

“It was a stupid idea, never—”

“—but sure, why not.”

“Really?”