Page 10 of Don’t Love the Boy Next Door (Hotties Next Door #2)

Chapter Nine

Katie

It’s such a relief that things are back to normal between Eric and me.

Band practice went so well last night—I think we played better than ever.

Cody smiled more times than I can count, and Ethan was on such a high he killed it on the bass.

My vocals were superb and Eric…well, he was perfect in every way.

I’m so excited for Beauty and the Beast rehearsal after school. I can’t wait to make magic on stage with my Beast. I’ve had good chemistry opposite other actors before, but it feels different with Eric. Special. I know the audience will love us on opening night.

But unfortunately, I still have a long way to go until classes are over. I wish I had a remote control to fast forward time.

After my third class of the day, I stop off at my locker to pick up some books, grumbling because I’m so not in the mood for all these lessons. I just want to perform. That’s my dream—to spend the rest of my life on stage, with nothing else getting in the way.

I close my locker and head toward the bathroom.

Harper is surrounded by her friends at her locker.

They’re all dressed in the red and yellow cheerleading uniform.

As I pass them, Harper gives me a hard glare.

I tear my gaze away from her and look straight ahead, trying not to hold my head too high.

I mean, I don’t want to be a jerk about the whole thing.

Even though her intentions might not have been the best, I think Harper genuinely enjoyed being part of the musical.

There’s no point in rubbing it in and making her feel bad.

I enter the bathroom and lock myself in the stall. Just when I’m ready to leave, I hear a group of giggling girls walk in.

“Obviously cheer is more important to me,” Harper’s voice says. “Not everyone can be a cheerleader, you know? Some people just don’t have the right look .”

“Yeah,” her sheep agree.

“But I can’t help worrying about the musical,” she continues.

“Obviously I’m not part of it anymore, but I still care about it.

I can’t believe Miss Diaz gave my part to such an undeserving person.

I mean, she was chosen as an understudy for a reason.

Did you guys hear her sing? It’s not too late for Miss Diaz to hold new auditions and find a better replacement. Why is she settling for second best?”

“So true,” a girl says. “She’ll totally ruin the play.”

“Oh my gosh, Bailey, it’s a musical , not a play. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“S-sorry,” she stammers. “I meant musical.”

I peek through the gap and find Harper touching up her makeup.

“I was thinking of talking to Miss Diaz and suggesting she hold new auditions, but it’s not really my problem anymore.

If they want to wreck the musical, let them.

I mean, it will already be wrecked because I’m not in it. Not everyone can be me.”

I roll my eyes. How conceited can a person be?

And Harper knows I’m in here—she saw me go in.

She’s obviously trying to take a jab at me.

Every part of me urges me to throw the door open and give her a piece of my mind.

But I learned years ago that there’s no point.

Harper will never change. It’ll just be a waste of emotions.

I’m not interested in having an altercation with her, so I wait until she and her friends leave. It takes them forever, though, like Harper’s purposely taking her time so I would come out. The only thing that forces her to leave is the bell for next period. Which means I’ll be late.

After leaving the stall and washing my hands, I rush to class. I won’t let her words get to me. I can’t wait to wipe that smug smile off her face when she watches me on opening night.

***

My dance class was pretty intense this afternoon. I feel like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz as I get off the city bus and make my way home. I desperately need a shower.

I walk into a large, empty house. Phoenix has been streaming at her place the last few days because she feels a little guilty about not being home.

It’s our last two years before we’ll leave for college, and she worries she won’t have enough time to spend with her loving, crazy family.

It’s times like these I wish I weren’t an only child.

The house is too big and too dark and too… lonely.

But the living room lamp suddenly flicks on, nearly sending me soaring to the roof. Clutching my racing heart, I find a middle-aged man with graying hair sitting up on the sofa and blinking at me.

“Dad?” I ask.

He rubs his eyes. “Hi, Katie. Are you home from school already?”

“Uh…it’s nearly six. I just got back from dance class.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you haven’t given that up. You’re an amazing dancer.”

“Thanks.”

The room is bathed in silence.

I head over to the recliner and sit down.

The room is still bathed in silence.

“You’re home early,” I say.

“Yeah, the judge dismissed the case.”

“Oh.”

Quiet again.

“How’s school?” he asks.

“Okay.”

He nods. Then he stares at the carpet.

“Dad, guess what? I got the lead role in the musical.”

“Hmm?” He lifts his eyes to mine.

“My school’s putting on Beauty and the Beast this semester. I messed up my audition, so I didn’t get Belle. I was cast as the understudy. But the girl who got Belle quit, so I got the role.”

My cheeks hurt from the beam on my face. But Dad doesn’t look as ecstatic as I thought he would. In fact, darkness conquers his features.

“ Beauty and the Beast ?” he asks, his eyes far away.

“Um…yeah.”

He smiles sadly. “Your mom auditioned for Belle.”

“What?”

“But she didn’t get the role. Not even a callback.”

“She never told me this.”

His gaze is back on the carpet. “She didn’t like talking about it because she thought she failed the audition. She said it was one of the worst she ever had.”

An iron hand clamps around my heart. Mom…

she tried for Belle? She failed, just like I did.

If she were here with me, she and I could have shared that awful feeling of dejection.

She could have gotten me through the days.

I feel an even deeper connection than I did before. I just wish she were here with me.

“Dad?” I whisper.

He raises his head.

I swallow. “I really miss her.”

A pained look crosses his face.

“She would have helped me so much the past few weeks. I felt so lost and confused and helpless—”

“I’m tired, sweetie.” He pulls himself off the sofa. “I’m going to bed.”

I slowly close my mouth as tears spring to my eyes. I watch my dad amble to his room and shut the door behind him. I fall back on the couch and let the tears fall. He doesn’t want to talk about Mom. I want to, so desperately, but I can’t seem to discuss her with anyone other than my dad.

We’re going through this tragedy together. He’s the only one who understands what I’m going through. We could pick each other up. We could overcome this.

But he’s closed himself off. Does this mean he’ll never want to talk about her?

It feels like he’s just wasting away. Trudging through life until…when? Until he reaches the end? I’ve lost my mom, I don’t want to lose my dad, too.

But maybe I’ve already lost him.