Malory and Kyle must participate in the annual April Fest production as the leading co-stars. If they can cooperate by the end of the production, their long records of uncivilized behaviour towards each other will be forgotten. 
Malory and Kyle attempt to cooperate, grabbing the opportunity to make a positive impact on their own future. In the process, they become entangled in the chaos of the other’s personal life. Malory learns of Kyle’s disturbing reality, and Kyle learns of Malory’s scarring past. Can these two brilliant but messy teens learn to rely on each other in the face of their silent battles?

Between The Lines

 “Let me know if you’ve got to leave,” I say. “I don’t want to get you into any trouble…” 


 “It’s still early. You said we could rehearse until you have to get ready for work, not so?” He asks. 


 “Yea,” I sulk, “But I’m just… worried about you.” 


 “Stop worrying. All your hair will fall out.” 


 “What, have you turned into Olivia? She says the same thing.” 


 Kyle pulls out his phone to check the time. “It’s four-thirty. Since you almost went bald after rehearsing the first scene but we actually managed to read through the entire script once, let’s stop here for now. Today should just be a run-through. Plus, I’m hungry. I can’t focus like this.” 


 Why is this sixteen year old genius boy such a baby? 


 “Yea,” I say. “I should start getting ready for work, anyway. Usually the half hour flies like nothing. And I have to get a taxi.” 


 “Where do you work again?” Kyle asks. 


 “Nadine’s Restaurant. It’s not too far away, but far enough that I’m not willing to walk all the way over there.” I say. He gives me a pointed look. “What?” I ask. 


 “I was going to say I’d walk you to work, but you’re not a very nice person,” he says. “And you have –what was it that you said to me a while ago? A reputation to uphold?” 


 “I’d rather be shot than have someone find out Kyle Davidson was walking me to work,” I say, but my stupid face can’t contain the somewhat bubbly feeling inside me, and I smile. “I can get there on my own. Don’t bother.” 


 “Go figures,” he says. He packs his script into his bag and sighs, wearily. “So... when exactly are we practicing? Every day?” 


 “As much as you can manage,” I tell him. “I left all my clubs so I could focus on this, so evenings are free for me –aside from work.” 


 “Cool,” he says, zipping up his bag and standing. “Well, this has been... informative. And somewhat pleasant… considering we actually cooperated.” 


"Before" [3]