He shone.

I sat breathless as he said the lines as if they were just coming right than from the tip of his tongue.

"I am that merry wanderer of the night; I jest to Oberon and make him smile."

I don't know why but I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket. I always had a pen I carried with me everywhere back then. For whenever inspiration would strike, I guess. I jotted down a few lines, not even realizing what I was writing. Neil continued his monologue, as I wrote. I looked up and saw him looking at me for a minute. I smiled and he looked away with the flow of the Shakespearean verse. I glanced back down at my paper and wrote down another line.

"Excellent, Mr. Perry, excellent," Said the director, applauding him as he finished.

I clapped along and smiled. He walked off the stage and took his seat next to me.

"You were so good," I whispered, as the next person got up to try out, even though it was futile; Neil had it in the bag.

"You think so?" He inquired, smiling at the stage.

I looked over at him, "I know so,"

He turned his gaze to me, sitting in those auditorium seats. His eyes questioning but then his grin took over. I smiled softly back and put the piece of paper deep in my pocket.

We didn't leave right then, because we wanted to see the others who would try out. It was about a half an hour after all the parts had been completed.

"Thank you all for trying out," Said the director standing up, "Results will be posted by Saturday."

I stood with Neil and we began to leave but the director stopped him.

"May I talk with you for a moment?" She asked, "Alone."

Neil looked back and me and I shrugged, "Go ahead, I'll be outside." I said, turning and walking toward the door.

It was already dusk and there was just a little light left. Taking out my paper, I looked over the words and began to add in and edit what I wished on the little parchment piece. Resting my arms on the railing, I used it as a makeshift table.

The sound of the door opening drew me away from my musings.

"What did she want?" I asked, putting my pen away.

"She was telling me about how I did a good job and all that." He said, looking down at his feet.

"And." I said, trying to draw more of the conversation out of him.

He looked up with a smile, "And I've nearly got the part."

"Oh that's wonderful Neil!" I said excitedly, "When is the play by the way?"

"Christmas Vacation," He replied coming up beside me, "What's that you were writing on?" he asked looking down at my paper.

"Nothing," I said, trying to put it in my pocket, but my gloves got in the way.

"Oh come on, Rachael, what is it?" He said, trying to snatch it away from me good naturedly.

"Nothing," I said jerking my hand back, "It's just some verse I scribbled down during your try outs."

He reached out his other hand and grabbed it from my fingers.

"Poetry huh?" He said with a chuckle, opening the paper and starting to walk, with me chasing after him.

I really, really didn't want him to read it just now.

"Neil, please," I pleaded, but knew it was too late. His eyes were scanning the paper.

Angry as anything at him I crossed my arms in front of my chest and started to walk away down the road. I knew the words he was reading right now. I felt so mortified, to have him read them, they were too personal at the time.

"I watch you smile, you steal the show

you take a bow, the curtain falls in front of you

you're magical, on display

I gaze into your eyes and you turn to look the other way

Standing still, but in my mind
Trying to escape, looking for a place to hide

well it's not safe but I'm so near

Invading every place you go to disappear

But I'd really love to know

I'd really love to climb my way into your heart

and see what I could find

I'd walk into your skin, Swim through your veins

See it from your eyes, I'd really love to try""Rachael," He called, running up to me. I turned toward his voice, not able to look at him out of embarrassment and fury, "Rachael, I don't know what to say. This is beautiful," I saw him hold it out. I reached and grasped it from his hand.

I stuffed it in my pocket and looked up at him. I felt so stupid I could've cried, but his eyes were beseeching.

"Please don't be angry with me," He pleaded.

I sighed and felt my face melt, "It's alright," I mumbled.

"Did you mean it?" He asked.

I looked over at him again, "Mean what?"

"What you wrote."

I shrugged and started toward the bikes, "I guess so," I said, not knowing if I should tell him the truth.

"Oh," He said in a tone that made me stop and turn. He sounded sort of disappointed.

"Come on Neil," I said with a smile, "Just a minute ago you were bubbly as hell, why the change?"

"Well I hadn't read your poem a minute ago," He answered, looking up at me.

I walked right up to him and smiled, "Well than that was your own fault," I said.

He looked down at me, a small grin breaching his face, "I guess so," He commented quietly, not breaking eye contact.

His hand went to my waist and began to pull me closer; I could feel his breath feather my hair. I rested my own hands on his elbows, my fingers were trembling. My lungs quickened as he leant down to my face, his lips so close. However, the sound of the school bell, a good mile away, shattered the moment. It broke the sporadic instant right before we kissed.

"We-We'd better get back," I stuttered quietly, staring at his collared neck, covered by his coat. I was so close I could see the white stitching, lining it, "Dinner will begin a little while."

"Yah, we'd better," Neil agreed, the words falling warm with his breath against my neck and ear.

We pulled away and walked back to the bikes. We were almost as quiet as we were on the ride to Henley Hall.

We go back just as the dinner bell rang. Dinner was late on Thursdays at Wellton.

"Thank you for being there for me today," Neil said opening the door for me.

"You're welcome," I replied.

I was casual as could be, but inside I was screaming.

Jars of Clay