Page 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zayne is already gone when I wake up the next morning, and so is my mom.

I vaguely remember her pressing a wet kiss against my cheek a few hours ago before disappearing, and I try not to cry as I envision what the next six months are going to look like with her gone again. I check my phone. There’s a picture Mom sent me from the plane. She’s wearing a hopeful smile and holding one of her thumbs up. Her curly hair is pulled back into a bun, and her face is lit by the sun shining through her window seat on the plane. The message underneath the picture reads:

Mom

Wish me luck, baby. I love you.

I save the picture to my gallery and check Zayne’s message next.

Zayne

I snuck back out like a pro. But I accidentally lost my balance on the way out and crashed into your neighbor’s cans. The whole neighborhood probably hates me.

I laugh, typing back.

Me

Don’t worry. I didn’t hear a thing.

Zayne

You’re a really heavy sleeper, though. That’s not saying much.

Me

I’m a perfectly average sleeper, for your information.

Zayne

If you say so, Bennett.

With a smirk, I toss my phone onto the bed. I slept till noon, which means Zayne will be here to pick me up for the dance in less than six hours. I eye my laptop with a twinge of guilt. I’ve been procrastinating on homework like crazy. Catching up on all my overdue assignments will be the perfect way to pass the time until it’s time to get ready.

I get a bowl of cereal from the kitchen first and spot Beau eating a grilled cheese at the table on my way. “Morning,” I say.

He attempts to smile, lifting his lips and then giving up halfway, letting his mouth fall back into a downward curve. It’s the saddest expression I’ve ever seen on his face, and it makes me do a double-take. “You okay?”

He shrugs. “Are you?”

I close my eyes. I know what he’s referring to. Or who , rather. “She’ll be back, Beau.”

“I know.” His lips thin. “But why’d I have to be such a jerk to her while she was here, you know? I wish I’d been nicer. I just kept getting so frustrated, thinking she lied about Aunt Lucille knowing she was here.”

I pull out the chair across from him. “You acted the way you did because you care about her,” I tell him. “And she knows that. She knew it the whole time. You don’t need to be so hard on yourself.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I guess.” He eyes the pajama set I’m still wearing. “Don’t you have the winter formal to go to tonight?” He scrunches his nose. “You’re going to shower, right?”

So, this is what I get for trying to have a heart-to-heart? I should have known. “Yes, I’m going to shower. Duh. ” I get up from the chair, taking my bowl of cereal with me.

Before I disappear down the hall, Beau calls my name quietly. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Thanks,” he mutters.

I hide my grin as I turn away. “No problem.”

Six hours later, I’ve rehearsed for the play and I’m all caught up on my assignments, scrubbed clean, and feeling like a princess in my new blue dress. I had no trouble replicating the elegant twist Mom showed me last night, and my makeup looks fantastic; almost too perfect. I’m afraid to move, in case I somehow ruin or smudge something.

I spray perfume on my pulse points and check the time on my phone. There’s a text from Zayne.

Zayne

Five minutes away. Can’t wait to see you.

I send a pink heart in response and tuck my phone, my lipstick, and a pack of gum into my small, gold clutch. Gold, to match my jewelry.

When Zayne knocks, I make my way to the door. Dad is home from work, doing dishes in the kitchen and he hears the sound of my heels against the wood floor. “Now you wait a minute, Bardot,” he calls. “Let me see you before you go.”

I pause near the door. The steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the entryway is like a timer, counting down the seconds until I get to open the front door and see Zayne. Until we get to escape to the dance together.

Dad rounds the corner from the kitchen to the entryway where I’m still standing, waiting. When he sees me, he stops in his tracks and blinks a few times. “You look so grown up.” He swallows, blinking away the shine on his eyes and clears his throat. “Let me take a picture of you. Zayne can wait one more minute.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I smile and place my hand on the hip of my gown for the photo.

He snaps several, gazing at each one before taking the next. “Now a few with Zayne,” he says. “Go on. Let him in.”

A flurry hits the pit of my stomach, but I do as he says, opening the door to find Zayne waiting on the other side.

And my heart beats double its usual pace.

Zayne is dressed in a black suit with a muted yellow handkerchief in his pocket, matching my gold accessories. When he stares down at me, a couple of his dreads fall into his eyes. His gaze doesn’t waver from mine. “You look so beautiful,” he says in a low voice.

I want to melt at his words, to tell him how hot he looks, but my dad is standing right there, watching us. “Zayne, can I get a photo of you two together?” Dad asks.

“Of course.” Zayne walks in and stands next to me. He puts his arm around my waist and I try not to blush. I smile at the camera, letting my hands hang awkwardly while Dad takes an unnecessary number of photos.

“Okay, we have to go now!” I take hold of Zayne’s arm and half drag him toward the door again. “Bye, Dad.”

“Be safe out there, please, Bardot.” Dad shakes Zayne’s hand, and then finally, finally, we’re out the door and in his black Camaro. As promised, we stop by his house for photos, too. I’m nervous and embarrassed at first to see his family again, but they put me at ease right away, smiling and complimenting us as they snap photos.

And then we’re free again.

Dance, here we come. My first high school dance.

I try to imagine what it’s going to be like as we drive to school. The night twinkles, illuminated by the stars and the lights on homes along the way, already decorated for Christmas.

When we find a spot to park in the crowded lot at Fallbrook, Zayne gets out to open the passenger side of his car for me. I smile at him, my insides warming against the chill of the air at the comfort of his hand covering mine. Several other couples are arriving, and Zayne and I follow behind them to the school’s giant double doors. The cobbled walkway to the entrance is lined with topiary bushes covered in netted white outdoor lights. When we enter, the main corridor is dark, but there are signs to follow that lead us where we need to go. It’s a little eerie, walking through the ancient building at night. There are creaks and echoes that aren’t usually noticeable in the day, masked by the hum of voices and footsteps in the crowded corridors.

As we follow the signs, I can’t help but acknowledge how much fancier Fallbrook is than what most middle-class Americans get to experience. From what I’ve seen in movies, most high schools host their school dances in the gymnasium. But apparently, Fallbrook Christian Prep has an official ballroom, and this will be my first time seeing it. The other couples rush inside, but I take each step slowly, wanting to fully soak in every moment of this night.

Zayne pushes the heavy doors open, and I gasp.

Lantern-shaped lights float at the ceiling, like stars sprinkled across the night sky. Each table setting is topped with a seat assignment and bouquet of white roses, fairy lights, and silver tinsel. Heavy, silk runners are draped gracefully across each table in the ballroom. The scent of cinnamon, apple, and glue from the decorations is in the air. There’s a silver and white balloon arch at the left side of the room, and a salmon dinner buffet on the right.

It’s beautiful.

Zayne takes my hand again, threading his fingers through mine as we walk into the ballroom together. His thumb traces lines on my hand as it strokes back and forth. We find the table with our place settings on it, and I put my clutch on my assigned chair. The cloth napkin at my setting is even embossed with my name, Bardot Bennett. I look to the seat at my left, noting the Zayne Silverman napkin. Skimming over the rest of the names at our table, I don’t recognize anyone else.

Except Jude Crowe. Great.

Out of the corner of my vision, Mabel walks over to us with a wide smile on her face. Meredith isn’t far behind her, but her gaze hovers around the room, refusing to land in my direction. “Dot!” Mabel exclaims. “You look so gorgeous, it’s unreal.”

I blush. “Thanks Mabel.” I half expected her and Meredith to be in matching dresses tonight, but instead, she has on a crimson, silk gown. Her curly hair is in a twist that lands just above her dress’s intricate collarbone cutout. Mabel is donning a simple but elegant chiffon dress in violet, her hair bone straight in a French twist. I gesture to them. “You both look amazing, too.”

Mabel beams. “Thanks.” But then her smile wavers as she leans in closer to me. “I, uh…saw the Little Birdie post. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” But it’s a lie. My stomach is now twisting at the mere reminder that everyone now knows what happened at Zayne’s house on Thanksgiving with my mom.

I glance at Meredith. She’s studying her nails, but obviously listening, because she looks up and adds, “What a shame. But you two,” she juts her chin in Zayne’s direction, “still seem cozy regardless.”

Zayne wraps his arm around my waist. “Everyone knows Little Birdie is boring,” he says. “She’s nothing but old news, a fly on the wall with no real source material.”

Mabel nods in an overaggressive way that leads me to believe it’s only for my benefit.

“I believe her,” Meredith lilts with a delicate shrug of her shoulders. Her red lips frame her teeth as she smiles. “Unless you’re saying none of it happened.”

Zayne and I remain silent, and in this moment I can’t help but kind of hate Meredith. Other than technically stealing her part in the play, there’s no reason for her to be mad at me.

“I see.” She grins when it’s clear neither I nor Zayne are going to deny it. “Good luck to you and your mom, Dot. I’m going to go find my date.”

Zayne steps in front of her. “None of it happened. Little Birdie lied about the whole thing.”

“Hm.” She presses her lips together, squinting at the two of us. She spins on her designer heels with soles as red as her dress, leaving Mabel standing with us as she and struts into the center of the dance floor.

I swallow. My throat feels like dry crumbs are stuck in it. “Who’s her date?”

Mabel shifts on her feet. “She came with Carlton.” She tries to smile but fails. Her eyes land on Zayne’s arm still wrapped around my waist. “You two look really adorable together, by the way.”

I smile. “Thanks. Who did you come with?”

“Me and Rue came together as friends,” she explains. “Since neither of us had a date.”

I nod. “Nice.”

There’s an awkward beat of silence, and then she says, “Well…I’ll see you later, Dot. I’m going to look for Rue.”

I nod as she walks away, less dramatically than her sister.

“Who cares what they think?” Zayne squeezes my hand, so I turn to face him. He leans closer to my face, our foreheads almost touching. “Dance with me.”

Excitement bubbles in my chest. “Okay.”

We make for the dance floor, hand in hand. I can’t help but notice the whispers floating around us, the eyes that flicker from our faces to the ground just as quickly, and then back again. The not-so-subtle pointing and gesturing in our direction. The attention is just as bad as when I first arrived at Fallbrook. It’s exhausting. No matter how often this kind of thing keeps happening, I just can’t seem to get used to it.

My mind drifts away from the drama at hand as Zayne pulls me to his chest, places his hands on my waist, and gazes at my face.

I reach up and twine my fingers around his neck. A soft melody drifts around us, and we sway back and forth to the tune. Even with all the gossip surrounding us, this isn’t so bad. Not with Zayne’s intoxicating scent filling my senses, or his lips brushing feather-light across my forehead. Not with him holding me against him, so gently yet so firmly, grounding me to this moment in reality.

Someone taps my shoulder. Zayne and I break apart, and Carlton is standing next to us in a tux similar to Zayne’s, save for the red accents instead of yellow. I blink away the spell I’d willingly fallen into a moment before. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He wets his lips. Swallows. It looks like he wants to say more but doesn’t know how.

Zayne arches an eyebrow. “Do you need something?”

“I, uh—” Carlton gestures to me. “I was hoping I could dance with Dot. Just once, for old time’s sake?”

My gaze jumps from Carlton’s face to Zayne’s. He narrows his brows, squeezes my shoulder, then drops his hand. “It’s up to you,” he murmurs.

The last thing I want is to stop dancing with Zayne, but I’m also curious what Carlton wants to tell me. I know there’s something because of the way his eyes keep darting between me and Zayne. “Okay, I guess.”

Carlton grins, linking his arm through mine. “Meredith is a great dance partner,” he tells Zayne. “You’re welcome to have a dance or two with her.”

The jealousy that flares inside me at the thought of them dancing together is alarming, but Zayne just rolls his eyes. “That’s alright. I’m going to get a drink.” He starts to walk away, but then tenses and turns back to Carlton. His gaze narrows in on his arm linked with mine. “Try anything with Dot, and you’ll regret it.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of our classmates.

Carlton scoffs. “A little dramatic, isn’t he?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Carlton unlinks our arms to face me and puts one hand on my waist. He holds his other out for me to take. My palm hovers in the air, hesitating, before taking his hand. I rest my other on his shoulder, and we sway to the music. There’s a new song playing, and it’s slow like the last one. A heavy dose of Carlton’s expensive cologne tickles my nose.

A few months ago, I would have killed to be here with him, in this moment. To be his girlfriend. To have him look at me the way he is now, like I’m the last piece of gold in the mine. But now, all I can think about is how wrong it feels to be in his arms. How uncomfortable his gaze makes me because the feelings aren’t reciprocated. I just want Zayne to come back because I’d much rather be dancing with him.

“He’s lying to you, you know,” Carlton whispers into my ear. “Zayne.”

I roll my eyes. But there’s a tiny part of me that reacts to his words. The part of me that can’t help but ask, “About what?”

“Zayne isn’t who you think he is, Dot. He’s a liar. An actor. He uses girls. He’s been known to get girls to fall in love with him, only to tell them it was all an act. I have a feeling he’s doing the same thing to you.”

My gut tightens with unease, because he’s the second person to say this to me. We stop dancing, and I rip my hand away from his. “Stop it. You don’t know anything about Zayne.”

He shrugs. Holds both his hands up. “I’ve known him longer than you have.”

My vision turns red. “And what about you? You lied to me, Carlton. You lied about Zayne. Why would I believe a word you say?” I try to take a steadying breath to calm myself because the last thing I want to do is make a scene when everyone is already having a hard time keeping my name out of their mouth.

“I’m just looking out for you.”

I cross my arms. Like magic, Zayne appears at my side. He looks my face over and frowns. “Are you okay?”

I don’t answer, just shrug.

His jaw flexes and he spins to Carlton. His voice is so low, I almost miss what he says. “Don’t make me hurt you again.”

“Relax,” says Carlton. “I was just about to go back to my date.” He offers me a last meaningful glance. “Have fun, you two. Thanks for the dance, Dot.”

When he walks away, Zayne cups my cheek in his hand. “You look upset. What did he do?”

I shake my head. “No. Nothing, I’m fine.” I know telling Zayne what Carlton said would only lead to a confrontation, and I definitely don’t want a repeat of them fighting at Halloween.

The song changes to an upbeat club mix, and whoops and cheers explode around us. The dance tempo increases, making me feel claustrophobic.

I need some air.

“Can we go take a photo?” I ask Zayne. The balloon arch photo op looks empty. It will be the perfect break to clear my head.

He smiles, but the V between his eyebrows fails to disappear. “Yeah, let’s go.”

We make our way to the balloon arch. There’s only one couple in line ahead of us, and when it’s our turn, we position ourselves in frame under the arch. A short kid with round glasses and curly hair is behind the camera. I squint at him. “Jude?”

He doesn’t wave or smile at us and positions himself behind the camera with tense shoulders. “Smile, you two.”

I ignore him. “Why are you on camera duty?”

He sighs. “I volunteered, okay? Is that a problem?” Bright red spots appear on his cheeks.

“No, man. Relax,” says Zayne. “We’ll smile, okay?” He stands behind me. Wraps his arms around my waist.

We both smile.

Jude wordlessly snaps our photo. It’s probably going to be a good one. Not to sound conceited, but I know my angles. I know when I see the picture, I’ll admire my hair and makeup from tonight. I’ll stare with satisfaction at the effortless grin on my full lips, the way Zayne is holding me against him.

But right now, all I can think about is what Carlton said.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell Zayne. “I’m going to find the bathroom.”

“Okay.” His voice sounds normal, but I notice the subtle tensing of his body, like he knows something is off. I know I probably should just talk to him about it, but I’m not ready yet. I want to clear my mind, erase the stupid thoughts and suspicions Carlton planted in my brain first.

I find the bathroom near the exit and sit in an empty stall. I take calming breaths and study the pencil markings on the stall door, trying to make sense of the meaningless shapes.

I know I’m being a bit ridiculous. I shouldn’t take anything Carlton says seriously. He’s nothing but a liar. I should go back out there with Zayne.

I’m about to unlock my stall when my phone vibrates. Probably Zayne checking on me. I turn on the screen and see the familiar, dreaded Little Birdie logo. My stomach drops. “No,” I whisper. “Not again.”

I read the blast with a thundering heart.

Dearest Fledglings,

It pains me to write words such as these but write them I must.

As it turns out, our theater darlings are not darlings at all, but imposters. From the moment we laid eyes on the pair of Dot and Zayne, we’ve been enchanted by their undeniable chemistry. Their bonds have strengthened into something not even Dot’s old relationship with Carlton Peters could compare to. But now, I must unfortunately shatter the bubble of illusion we’ve all despairingly fallen under.

According to an insider, this news has escaped from the lips of Zayne himself. He stated, “Dot thinks she's the better actor, but I've had her fooled all along. First, she believed Carlton Peters was a good guy, and now she believes I'm into her. I guess that proves I have more talent. Or maybe she's just plain naive."

Zayne then revealed that dating Dot Bennett has been done with the hopes of creating chemistry between the two of them—chemistry that Zayne will hopefully be able to replicate onstage while the representative from Underwood Academy is watching.

Some will go to drastic measures to get what they want. Apparently, Zayne Silverman is one of those people.

What we’ve considered a budding romance has really been an act all along. Dot Bennett is no It Girl, but another Cassidy Tucker in disguise. We all remember her, or…do we? I can only hope Underwood is treating her well.

The real question is how Dot will handle this awful truth! Will she collapse under the pressure of it all, or will she prove to Zayne that he cannot get the best of her?

An even more delicious question—how will this leaking news affect their performance?! This little birdie will be sure to watch and find out. And so will anyone who’s anyone.

Yours truly,

Little Birdie