Iris Kelly Doesn't Date (Bright Falls, #3)(67)

Dr. Thayer Calloway was Stevie’s favorite theater professor at Reed. She was queer, brilliant, and had been the first person to make Stevie truly believe she could. Dr. Calloway was tough and demanding and made Stevie cry more than once, but she also made Stevie into the actor she was today.

Whatever kind of actor that might be.

“I’m in town for my sister’s birthday,” Dr. Calloway said. “Horrific affair at a karaoke bar downtown. I can’t seem to get ‘My Heart Will Go On’ out of my head.”

Stevie laughed. “It’s so good to see you.”

Dr. Calloway stood up, dapper in her butch style of dark jeans and a white T-shirt under a navy blazer, flat brown loafers on her feet.

“I’m actually on my way to the airport,” she said, motioning toward her rolling suitcase, “but I couldn’t resist stopping by to check on my favorite students and the Empress.”

Stevie smiled. “We’re still here.”

“So I see.” Dr. Calloway smiled. “And thriving.”

“It’s all Adri. She’s very determined.”

“It’s not only Adri.” Dr. Calloway’s eyes narrowed on Stevie, a familiar gaze that always made Stevie simultaneously squirm and straighten her shoulders. Dr. Calloway had once stared at her for a full fifteen minutes in front of their entire class, asking her the same question about the character she was playing at the time over and over again—What does Angelica want, Stevie?—until Stevie gave an acceptable answer.

“That was quite impressive,” Dr. Calloway said, motioning toward the stage. “A Benedick unlike one I’ve ever seen.”

Stevie waved a hand. “It’s noth—”

“It’s not nothing, Stevie.” She lifted a brow, and Stevie nodded.

“Right. Sorry. I mean, thank you, Dr. Calloway.”

“Call me Thayer, please. We’re not in school anymore.”

“Thayer,” Stevie said, then immediately blushed. Half the theater department had been in love with Thayer Calloway, lesbians and bi and pan girls flocking to her queer energy like hens to their feed, along with a few women who had always assumed they were straight. And Stevie had been no different.

“Anyway, I do want to say hello to Adri and Ren, but I’m glad I caught you alone first,” Thayer said.

“Oh?”

Thayer smiled. “I’m in New York now, as you probably know.”

“I do. How’s it going?”

“Very well, actually. I’ve just been asked to direct As You Like It for Shakespeare in the Park this summer. At the Delacorte.”

Stevie’s eyes widened. Half of Stevie’s dramatic education at Reed had been studying actors on the famous Central Park Delacorte stage, everyone from Anne Hathaway to Meryl Streep to Rosario Dawson.

“Oh my god,” she said. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations, Dr.—Thayer. That’s a dream come true.”

Thayer smiled, showing all of her teeth, dimples pressing into her cheeks. “It is. And I want to offer you a role.”

Stevie froze, her mouth dropping open without her permission. It was as though the letters were particles in the air, slowly coming together to form words, sentences.

“Wait, what?” Stevie finally asked.

“You heard me, Stevie.”

“I . . . I’m not sure—”

“Before you say you can’t,” Thayer said, holding up her hand. “Think about it. I want you to play Rosalind.”

“Rosalind. As in—”

“The lead.”

Stevie’s head spun. “I don’t understand. There must be a hundred other people you could cast as Rosalind. Famous people. Freaking Natalie Portman.”

Thayer nodded. “True. But I don’t want Natalie Portman. I want what I just saw on that stage. I want what I saw hints of even back when you were eighteen years old and could barely look me in the eyes. I want Stevie Scott.”

This wasn’t real. This had to be a dream. “I just . . . I’m overwhelmed.”

“I understand that,” Thayer said. “I’m a bit overwhelmed myself. I honestly walked in here hoping to say hello to Adri. And only Adri. I’m surprised to find you still in Portland.”

Stevie’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Anyway, as soon as I saw you up there, I knew I was looking at my Rosalind,” Thayer said. She took a manila folder out of her messenger bag and started flipping through the papers inside. “Somewhere in here is a rehearsal schedule, dates the show will run, all those details. I’ll email it to you as well, but I want you to have this now. Oh, hell, just take the whole thing.”

She held out the folder and Stevie took it, her hand already trembling. She could barely process what Thayer was saying, much less what it meant.

“I’ll need an answer by September first,” Thayer said, “before our auditions officially start. I can help with housing, board, all those details, so don’t let that hold you back. Please promise me you’ll think about it.”

“I . . .”

“Is that Thayer Calloway?” Ren’s voice echoed from the stage, where they’d just emerged from backstage draped in various fabrics and materials. They held their hand up to their eyes, shading the lights to see to the back of the theater. “Holy shit, it is!”