Page 3

Chapter Three

School doesn’t disappoint the next day—it passes quickly and uneventfully. That is, until I get to the drama room after sixth period. Rue is poised outside the door, ankles crossed and texting. When she sees me, she waves. “Hey, Dot.”

I smile. “Hi.” My senses are a bundle of nerves because this is technically my first official theater meeting. Is that what they’re called? Meetings? “Who are you waiting for?”

“Anyone.” Rue flicks her fingers at the air vaguely. “Whoever gets here first. And that’s you.” She pushes off the side of the corridor, pleated skirt swooshing with the movement. “Shall we enter?” She waggles her brows dramatically, earning a laugh from me.

When we walk through the heavy door, there are two rows of chairs lined up at the front of the classroom.

“Oh, no,” Rue mutters.

I wait for her to elaborate, but she just hangs her head and leads us to a group of empty desks. Soon after, Carlton and the twins shuffle in and sit next to us. Carlton sits on my other side, and I note the way he smiles at me. Like I’m the only one in the room he notices. Like our conversation last night never happened. Some of the tension in my shoulders eases.

The room buzzes with conversation until Mr. Saltzman emerges from the room with the adjoining door.

“We’re doing the character bus today, everyone.” He claps his hands together to hush the collective mix of squeals and groans that follow. “Who wants to be the driver?”

“I will,” says a short, blond girl near the front of the classroom. She practically beelines from where she’s sitting and plops into the first chair in the line of seats Mr. Saltzman has arranged. There’s a gleam in her eyes and her full cheeks lift in excitement.

Mr. Saltzman nods at her. “Thank you for volunteering, Joy.” Turning back to the class, he adds, “I want Hayden, Danielle, Carlton, Leighton, and Rue to be the passengers.”

Carlton straightens his spine and Rue mutters, “Wonderful.” She and Carlton stand up and head to the front of the class to line up with the other chosen students.

“For those of you who are new,” Mr. Saltzman continues, “the driver of the bus will take on the personality of each new passenger, and so will any passengers on the bus. So, get ready.” Turning to Joy, he asks, “Where is the bus headed?”

“To Manchester,” she replies with a grin.

“Then let the show begin.” Mr. Saltzman cracks his knuckles and backs away, a pleased smile on his face. A short boy wearing a leather jacket over his uniform is first in line. He approaches Joy.

“I hear this bus is headed to Manchester.” The boy emphasizes his words with a heavy, clearly fake southern drawl. He yodels a laugh at the end of his statement, and Joy yodels a laugh right back.

“You’re darn tootin’,” she says.

The boy skips to the first available seat behind Joy. “Well cut my cake and call me biscuit. That’s where I’m headed.”

I stifle a giggle, along with several others in the class.

Joy leans back in her chair and pretends to drive with one hand.

The next person in line walks over to Joy, a girl with dark curls and bright red lipstick. She’s crying, actual tears pouring down her cheeks as she wails, “I need to get to Manchester. Is this the bus that can take me? Please.”

Joy doesn’t even hesitate as she, too, begins crying. “I need to get to Manchester, too but I don’t know how to drive.” She covers her mouth with both hands as sobs wrack through her and the passenger who started out with a southern accent wails, “We’re all going to die.”

Then it’s Carlton’s turn. He sings the words, “Hi, I need to ride the bus,” to the tune of the ABCs.

Joy sings back, “Could you take a seat for us?”

Southern Boy sings, “Let us stare up at the sky.”

And Crying Girl sings, “Waving as the birds fly by.”

It’s incredibly impressive. So much so, that I can’t help but feel out of my element. I’m nowhere near as skilled as anyone on the character bus. Not even close.

I sink down in my chair.

The next girl laughs uncontrollably as she speaks, and so does everyone and the bus—and the class, for that matter. Laughter bounces around the room until it’s Rue’s turn. She’s the last passenger on the bus, and she whispers everything she says so quietly, the class can barely hear her. Everyone else on the bus does the same, and when all the seats are filled, the class erupts with a round of applause.

“And that’s how it’s done,” Mr. Saltzman beams.

My gaze sweeps the room, noting all the fellow students who pat Carlton on the back as he makes his way back over, Rue trailing behind him. In fact, almost every gaze in the room is glued to Carlton.

Except one.

I can’t help but stare because, once again, I’m struck by his beauty. His long lashes framing those incredibly warm brown eyes. The way his full lips are downturned into a scowl, making him look like an enraged statue, or a model for a frowning ad, perhaps. Either way, I can’t help but watch Zayne Silverman not watch Carlton. His graceful jaw works as his eyes land on mine from the other side of the classroom.

I look away instantly, cheeks burning.

Carlton doesn’t seem to notice. He returns to his spot next to me and grins, his half-smile lazy and seductive. “What did you think?”

I clear my throat. “That was amazing.” And it’s true. Watching that mini performance was nothing short of inspiring. I tell him the parts that made me laugh. I tell him how impressive his singing voice is, even when matching the tune of a children’s song. I even compliment Rue. “I can’t believe your voice can even get that quiet,” I say.

But what I don’t mention is how insecure I feel now that I’ve seen what improv looks like. I don’t talk about how scary it will be when I inevitably have to perform in front of the class. And I definitely don’t bring up how worried I am that by trying to fit in, all I’ve done is highlight how unlikely that is to ever, ever happen.

“Cast list is posted,” Meredith tells me at school the next day. I’m walking through the hallway to my locker when she practically collides with me. There’s a huge smile plastered across her face.

I grin. “Who did you get cast as?”

“Well, I haven’t checked yet.” She blushes a little and tosses her curly hair over her shoulder. “There weren’t even any callbacks, which is unusual, but a good sign. It just means that Mr. Saltzman knew exactly who he wanted to play each part. I better have gotten the lead.”

“I’m sure you did. Don’t worry.”

“Me and Mabel auditioned for Catherine Earnshaw and her daughter, Catherine Linton,” continues Meredith. She claps her hands. “Since we’re twins, we’ll look crazy alike as mother and daughter, just like in the book. Golden opportunity, you know? Mr. Saltzman won’t be able to resist.”

I nod along, but I’ve never read Wuthering Heights so I’m not sure what she’s talking about. That part wasn’t mentioned in the detailed summary I skimmed before the audition.

Some Ivy-bound student I am. A surge of dread seizes me at the thought.

Rue finds us by the lockers. “Hey, y’all.” Her hair is in space buns, making her look slightly childish, but in a cute way.

“Cast list is posted,” Meredith tells her.

“I know. I saw it.” Rue brightens. “Congrats Dot!”

Congrats? I frown. “Congrats on what?”

“You got the lead female role. I’m playing your sister-in-law, Isabella.” Rue scrunches her nose. “Wait, why don’t you look more excited?”

Lead female role? What is she talking about? My stomach feels heavy, like I got stuck on a roller coaster with a drop I wasn’t prepared for. It’s like a nightmare about accidentally going to school in nothing but your underwear. That moment, looking down and realizing you have nothing else on. That’s how my stomach feels. There’s no way. There must be some mistake.

“But she didn’t even audition for the part of Catherine!” Meredith’s voice is frazzled, nearly a screech. “ I did!”

“Oh,” says Rue. She bites her lip. It takes her a moment to think of something else to say. “Well, at least you’re playing Nelly. Hers is arguably one of the most important roles.” She places a careful hand on Meredith’s shoulder, but Meredith shakes her off.

“I don’t want to play freaking Nelly!” she shouts. Her voice attracts the attention of a few students around us. I want to get in my locker and hide from their stares, but Meredith doesn’t even seem to notice. She turns to glare at me, her gaze filled with more venom than I ever thought possible.

Great. Now she’s mad at me. I hold up my hands. “I’m sorry! You know I didn’t try out for the lead. In fact, I’m pretty sure my audition sucked.”

She scowls. “Fantastic. Like that’s supposed to make me feel better, Dot.”

“Yeah, why would you even say that?” Rue side-eyes me.

My cheeks burn at her expression. This is exactly what I was worried about. I can’t help but recall what I overheard Mom telling Dad before she left, while they were discussing me possibly attending Fallbrook. “It would be good for her,” Mom said. “Bardot is smart, but sometimes that girl lacks self-awareness.”

Meredith storms off down the hall, just as Mabel approaches. Her lips are turned up into an impossible grin. “Guess what?” Mabel jumps up and down and then hugs me. It’s a bit jarring after speaking with Meredith, especially since they look so much alike. “I’m playing Catherine Linton!”

She pulls away, still grinning, and then takes in Rue’s round eyes and my shoulders, still bunched up to my ears after our encounter with Meredith. Mabel’s face falls. “Oh, no. Mere’s upset, isn’t she? I saw that she got cast as Nelly.”

Instead of answering, I push past them both and head to the main office of Fallbrook, where the bulletin board with the cast list is posted. Whispers echo through the halls as I march through them, and it takes me a moment to realize they’re about me. I’m the one being talked about. Fragmented phrases like, “Dot playing Cathy” and “Meredith is upset” and “wonder what Little Birdie will say” ring in my ears.

Mistake. This is all just one big mistake. It has to be.

I have to see it for myself. Maybe my name and Meredith’s name are right on top of one another, and she somehow got our roles reversed. That would make so much more sense.

I make my way through the halls, my footsteps echoing on the floor now that almost everyone else has cleared out to make it to first period. Luckily, mine isn’t too far from the office, so I’m not worried about missing the first bell.

I round the corner, expecting to find the list open and free from prying eyes, but instead find Carlton standing there, alone in the dim corridor. There’s a beam of light illuminating his symmetrical face through a high stained-glass window, like a spotlight shining on a stage. For a moment, I’m struck with longing, remembering our summer together. I miss the feeling of his warm hand in mine, his twinkling eyes telling me stories without a word. The gentle caress of his lips against mine, like a shared secret between us.

He scans the list, frozen in place. His shoulders are taut, and I realize what he must be seeing: my name under “Catherine Earnshaw,” next to his under “Heathcliff.” Despite everything, I can’t contain my flutter of excitement at the idea of playing his romantic interest, even though if it’s true, I’ll be in way over my head.

“Hey,” I say as I approach him, causing him to stiffen. He must not have heard me walk up, though I don’t know how he could miss it, since we’re practically alone in the corridor now that the bell is about to ring.

He points to the bulletin board. “Did you see this yet?”

I bite my lip. “No. But Meredith told me.”

Carlton stares at the ground, eyes shining. For a moment, I think he might cry, but then his eyebrows pull together and his mouth twists into a scowl. In one rapid movement, he turns and throws something hard against one of the lockers behind him, and I jump.

“What was that?” I stare at the object he threw, now lying on the ground. Carlton’s phone is face up with thin lines now cutting across the screen in different directions. My lips part. “Carlton, what’s wrong?”

His hands clench into fists. “What do you mean, ‘what’s wrong,’ Dot? How can you even ask me that right now?”

My stomach ties itself in a knot. I know how much he cares about this play, but would it really be such a bad thing to have me as his costar? I can’t deny that I’m more than a little stung at his reaction. “Look, I know I’m inexperienced,” I begin, “but is it really so bad that I’m playing Catherine? Aren’t you a little proud that I got the biggest role, first try?”

His eyes widen as he stares at me. He’s looking at me like he can’t believe he’s really seeing me, or something. It makes me feel like I’m on display. “Is that why you think I’m upset?” He exhales through his mouth. “Of course you would think that. Why am I even surprised? You’re always thinking about yourself first.”

My throat clogs with trepidation.

“I didn’t get the part, Dot!” Carlton’s voice is so loud, it echoes as it bounces around the walls and lockers surrounding us. “I didn’t get the lead role. I’m not playing Heathcliff.” His eyes have me locked in the tight grip of his angry stare. I can’t glance away from him, much as I want to.

“Who is, then?” My voice sounds like a whisper.

“ He is,” Carlton seethes. “Zayne Silverman. And I’m stuck playing the main supporting character, Edgar Linton.”

“Carlton…I’m so, so sorry?—”

He breaks away from me as soon as I speak, turning on his heel and marching down the long stairway toward the wing of his first class.

I stare after him, my heart sinking as he leaves.

What have I done?

It may not be my fault that Carlton didn’t get the role he wanted. But if I hadn’t been so focused on my own situation, I would have realized how much he needs me right now. Meredith being mad at me for stealing her role feels like nothing compared to Carlton being mad at me.

I walk up to the cast list, my eyes scanning the names of the drama club and the characters we’ll be playing this winter. I stop when I reach the name at the top.

Zayne Silverman.

If he hadn’t changed Carlton’s script in the first place, he wouldn’t have gotten away with taking the lead role. In fact, he only won by playing dirty. It isn’t fair.

Zayne isn’t fair. And the worst part is now that we’re co-stars, we’ll probably be spending a lot more time together, rehearsing as the main couple in the play.

My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I won’t let them fall. And I will not let Zayne get the best of me or get in the way of me having a relationship with Carlton.

Latest on the Little Birdie gossip feed:

There’s been quite a stir among Fallbrook’s most interesting students. Have you heard the news?

I’m sure you’ve noticed the new girl by now. If not, her name is Bardot Bennett. Apparently, she goes by “Dot.” A drab nickname, in my opinion, but to each their own. It looks like Dot has found her way into the circle of none other than Carlton Peters himself. And who can blame her? With a knack for theater and a jawline like his, she was bound to be interested.

Carlton and Dot are both playing leads in Fallbrook’s adaptation of the classic love-story Wuthering Heights. Only, it looks like Carlton won’t be playing the Heathcliff to Bardot’s Cathy! No! Heartthrob Zayne Silverman snagged the role of the ruggedly handsome Heathcliff, and I can’t complain that he doesn’t fit the bill. If anything, Carlton was made to play the passive and polite Edgar Linton.

But the question is: Who will truly play the part of stealing Bardot’s heart?

Yours truly,

Little Birdie