Page 12

Chapter Twelve

I skip school the next day.

It’s silly, I know. Immature, even, at best. But I do it anyway because it’s the only solution that makes me feel better when the problem of Carlton and Zayne comes to mind.

Carlton, because he’s suddenly started acting the way I’ve wanted him to all year . Like I belong with him and his friends, like I’ve somehow earned my way into his group, even though I haven’t.

Like he wants me to be his girlfriend. Trouble is, I’m not sure I want to be anymore. But if I’m not a part of Carlton’s group, where do I fit in? Without him, I’m not sure if I’d even have any friends at all.

Instead of drumming up an answer to that, I hide in my bed. Pulling the covers over my head, I scroll through social media, liking pictures and posts until my eyes burn. Beau already left for school, and Dad is at work for his TSA job. I texted Carlton, telling him I wasn’t feeling well, and he offered to bring me soup after school. I haven’t responded yet. Partly, because I’m worried turning him down will arouse suspicion, and also because soup does sound pretty good. It’s been a long time since I’ve had an appetizing, home-cooked meal, with Mom away and Dad constantly working, and with the exception of Saturday brunch with Beau, we’ve been living off frozen meals, canned dinners, and Dad’s attempts at cooking.

I shut my eyes, numb to the voice in my head telling me I can’t just run away from my problems, and then my phone goes off. But it’s not just the typical notification sound.

It’s Little Birdie’s. My stomach clenches as soon as I hear it.

“Please don’t be about me,” I mumble, even though there’s no one else here. I bring my phone to my face, squinting against the brightness after having my eyes closed, and read.

Hello my darling flock!

I’ve returned with a juicy worm, or two, for you to snack on!

Most of you know Rue Sullivan as the quiet, shy, and sweet drama club girl who tends to mind her own business. Boring, I know. Until recently, I’ve hardly seen any potential in her when it comes to newsworthy gossip.

But, fledglings, I have discovered Rue’s biggest secret! The poor thing has an unrequited crush! Yes! I’ve heard her discussing it myself, with none other than Meredith Evans! Now the only mystery to solve is who Rue has been pining after. You know I’ll find out. And when I do, you will, too!

In other news, our favorite It Girl Bardot has been behaving these days. But a passerby so kindly shared the news with me that she was recently at Boston Public Garden with none other than Zayne Silverman! The pair was huddled near the duck pond, with a blanket to keep them cozy. Who knows exactly what was exchanged between the pair? I would be obliged to any insiders willing to send me the play-by-play through my delightful app.

Until next time!

Yours Truly,

Little Birdie

It doesn’t take long for the messages to start pouring in after that.

Mabel

It wasn’t me who told her, I swear!

Rue

I’m SO OVER LB!

Carlton

I can’t believe Little Birdie left me out of the story.

Meredith

I bet Little Birdie is Zayne. Who else would have known about this?

And then a message from Zayne.

Zayne

Where are you?

Me

At home.

Zayne

Why?

Me

I’m sick.

I sink back into the covers, grateful I decided to stay home today. The last thing I need is the entire school staring at me again after they finally stopped. At least Carlton isn’t mad this time.

It’s times like this I miss being homeschooled.

I sleep the rest of the afternoon away, waking to make myself some peanut butter toast and study for tomorrow’s chemistry test. I know I should be more worried about skipping school possibly jeopardizing my chances to get into an amazing college, but I just don’t have it in me. Maybe it’s self-sabotage at this point.

A little bit after four, someone knocks on the front door. It’s probably Carlton with my soup. I take a deep breath. I’m not sure I want to see him. He’s the reason I stayed home, after all. But I force myself out of bed, checking my reflection at my vanity table before I answer the door, because I still want to look pretty, even if I’m not excited to see him.

But when I open the door, it’s not Carlton waiting outside. It’s Zayne, still in his school uniform. He must have come straight from school. I feel an annoying rush of excitement as soon as our gazes collide.

“What are you doing here?” I can’t keep the surprise from my voice.

Zayne’s expression is stony. Irritated. “You missed rehearsal.”

“I know. I’m sick.”

“You are not sick,” he says, walking in though I didn’t invite him. “And not only did you miss rehearsal, but also your boyfriend’s little temper tantrum after Little Birdie sent out her latest blast.”

“What—Carlton?” I frown. “He was upset? And you know he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Whatever.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the entryway wall. “He thought I was the one who shared the story since no one else was there.”

I close my eyes. Of course, Carlton would think that. And I have to admit, it makes sense. Zayne and Carlton hate each other. Why wouldn’t Zayne try to spin a story to make it look like he’s stealing me away from Carlton? It would be decent revenge for what Carlton did to Zayne at the audition. I open my eyes. “Wait, you didn’t, though. Did you?”

Zayne gapes at me. “Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t know. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to get back at him. You could easily make it look like you’re trying to get me to like you.”

Zayne lowers his eyelids, giving me a look that sets me on edge. “If I wanted you to like me, I wouldn’t have to spread twisted lies to make it happen.” His voice sounds low. Husky. “There are much less complicated ways.”

I stare at him. Something about the change in his tone, in his demeanor, leaves me speechless.

And then he hands me a folder. “Mr. Saltzman made an amendment to one of our scenes,” he says. “We could practice it now if you want since you missed today.”

“Thanks. I would, but Carlton is bringing me soup soon.” I blush, still not quite back to my normal self. What is wrong with me? “It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for you to still be here when he comes.”

Zayne searches my face, like he senses it too, that I’m not myself, and says, “Right. Wouldn’t want to give him a reason to question your loyalties.” The sentence is heavy, filled with a weight of implication I’m not ready to dissect.

“Bye, Zayne.”

He looks pointedly at the folder in my hands. “Don’t forget to practice. You better bring it, Bennett. I want the performance of a lifetime.”

I laugh. “Got it.”

I walk him out, exhaling a sigh of relief that he won’t be here when Carlton arrives. Relief that I won’t have to rehearse today. Relief that I won’t have to spend more time under that penetrating gaze Zayne gave me, making me feel things that have me questioning everything.