Page 142 of Pride High 3: Yellow

“It would only be for a dance or two,” Faith snapped. “What’s the big deal?”

“I’m not interested,” Hope grumbled. “That’s what!”

“Sorry,” Faith said to Alan. “I swear she’s not always like this.”

“Umm, that’s okay,” Alan said with burning cheeks. “I’m just gonna go…” He pointed to where a girl was standing without a partner. “See ya.”

Faith rounded on her sister as he wandered off. “Would it kill you to at least try? You need a boyfriend!”

“Why?” Hope shot back.

“That’s a very good question,” Keisha interjected, “but no matter the answer, you’re here to practice, so let’s—”

She was interrupted by shouting from elsewhere on the stage.

“Back the fuck off!” a familiar voice roared.

“Now what?” Keisha said as she orientated on the source.

Diego and Troy were up in each other’s faces.

“Excuse me, please,” she said before marching in their direction.

Ms. Deville got there first. “What precisely is the issue here?” she demanded.

“This jackass keeps getting in my way,” Diego snarled, gesturing with disdain at Troy, whose tone was sickly sweet when he replied.

“I’m really sorry about that, ma’am. I’ve never been in a play before, so I guess I get a little confused.”

“Bullshit!” Diego grumbled. “He’s doing it on purpose!”

“Language, Mr. Gomez,” Ms. Deville said with a weary sigh. “With such complicated choreography, there are bound to be mistakes. That’s why we are practicing.”

Diego shook his head. “Which dance move involves kicking someone’s foot so they’ll trip over their own leg?”

Troy’s expression was shocked. “Oh my gosh, I really didn’t mean to do that! I’m glad you didn’t fall down.”

Keisha resisted an eyeroll. Troy was a smooth talker, but she saw right through him and hoped that Ms. Deville did too. As for Diego, she knew him better than anyone realized. He was a hothead, and occasionally an asshole, but at least he was real. If he said somebody was trying to trip him, then they probably were.

“I have a solution,” Keisha said.

“Excellent.” Ms. Deville bowed slightly as if deferring to her. “What do you propose?”

“Let’s move Troy and Faith off to the side here, where there’s a little more room. Angie and Emilio, you take their place.”

“Wait a minute,” Faith said. “I want to be center stage where everyone can see me.”

“Then you need to earn it,” Keisha said evenly. “Work with your partner instead of playing matchmaker. Got it? Good. Take your positions, everyone!”

“Well done,” Ms. Deville murmured. “You have the makings of a stage manager, if not a director.”

Keisha liked the sound of that. She stayed close to Diego and Whitney as practice resumed, pleased with the progress they’d made. Then she went to assess Troy, who didn’t seem to be having issues anymore. Go figure. She made sure there weren’t further incidents for the rest of rehearsals, mostly to prove her worth to Ms. Deville, because next year as a junior she had a real shot of landing a coveted position of authority. Being in charge of choreography was already cool. Getting to boss everyone about every detail would be no end of fun.

She was collecting her things at the end of practice when Hope walked over to her, dressed in regular clothes again.

“Sorry about my sister,” she said. “She can be a little overbearing.”

“Hey, I’m the middle child of five siblings,” Keisha replied. “I know all about the pressures from above and below.” She slid some notes into her backpack before zipping it up. “Although I’ve never had a twin. Maybe it’s different.”