Page 29 of The Drama King

"This isn't a coincidence," Robbie said quietly, his voice barely audible over the surrounding conversations.

"No," I agreed, watching as several students approached Dorian with congratulations or condolences. It was hard to tell which. "The question is whether De Scarzis is complicit or just being manipulated."

"Does it matter?" Stephanie asked. "Either way, you're screwed."

Before I could respond, a shadow fell across our row. I looked up to find Professor Williamson standing beside our seats, her expression professionally neutral but her scent carrying undertones of discomfort.

"Ms. Levine," she said, "could I have a word?"

I followed her to a quieter corner of the room, aware of the curious glances from other students. Williamson had been one of my more supportive faculty members, but even she seemed nervous today.

"I wanted to discuss your showcase assignment," she began, her voice carefully modulated. "The Petruchio-Katherine dynamic is complex, requiring significant trust between scene partners."

"I understand," I replied, though my mouth felt dry.

"Mr. Ashworth is an... intense... scene partner," Williamson continued, choosing her words carefully. "Very committed to exploring the full emotional range of his characters. I trust you're prepared for that level of artistic collaboration?"

The coded language was clear. She was warning me, as much as she dared, while also establishing plausible deniability for whatever happened during rehearsals.

"I can handle whatever the scene requires," I said, injecting more confidence into my voice than I felt.

Williamson nodded, but her expression remained troubled. "Remember that faculty are available if you need guidance during the rehearsal process."

As she walked away, I rejoined Stephanie and Robbie, who'd been documenting the conversation from a distance.

"Well?" Stephanie asked.

"She knows," I said simply. "And she's either too scared or too compromised to do anything about it."

The meeting concluded with administrative details about rehearsal scheduling, costume requirements, and technical support. As students began filtering out, I noticed the pack's coordinated movement. Corvus positioning himself near the exit, Oakley engaging several faculty members in animated conversation, and Dorian... approaching our seats with determined purpose.

"Ms. Levine," he said, his voice pitched for public consumption but carrying undertones meant only for me. "I look forward to working with you. Katherine is such acomplexcharacter."

"Yes," I replied, standing to meet his gaze directly. "Women often are."

His expression shifted briefly with an appreciation for the subtle challenge in my response.

"Yes," he agreed. "I think we'll create something memorable together."

The way he said "memorable" made my skin prickle, but I held his stare without flinching. Around us, students continued their exodus, but I was aware of the growing circle of observers, drawn by the tension between us.

"I'm sure we will," I said. "When do you want to schedule our first rehearsal?"

"Tomorrow," he replied immediately. "Seven PM, Studio C. We have a lot of ground to cover."

Studio C. The same small, isolated space where Corvus had cornered me before the midterm.

"I'll be there," I agreed.

"Good." His smile was sharp-edged. "Don't be late."

As he walked away, I felt the weight of curious stares and whispered speculation. Several students approached with offers of sympathy or advice, but their concern felt performative, social positioning disguised as support.

"Come on," Robbie said quietly, guiding me toward the exit. "Let's get out of here."

We escaped to the relative privacy of the quad, where Halloween decorations fluttered in the autumn wind. The festive atmosphere felt surreal after the psychological minefield of the meeting.

"Okay," Stephanie said, once we were safely away from potential eavesdroppers. "What's our strategy?"