Page 9

Chapter Nine

It’s been a week since my argument with Carlton. In that time, I haven’t spoken to him, and he’s been pretending I don’t exist. I have to admit, his efforts are impressive. During play rehearsal, I accidentally trip over him when I go to sit at the stool where I’m supposed to pretend to play piano. He barely blinks.

Maybe if he put all this acting effort into the play instead of giving me the cold shoulder, he wouldn’t be so worried about getting accepted into his drama school.

Rue says her line in a perfect, British accent. “ There’s a person here from Gimmerton who wishes to see you, Cathy. ” Her face betrays no nerves at having the entire class watch us perform the scene. Behind us, a collection of tall, half-painted boards form a makeshift backdrop, but it’s still hard for me to pretend I’m on stage rather than in the drama classroom.

“ What does he want? ” I ask.

“ I did not question him ,” she replies.

Carlton’s voice comes out purposefully bored as he asks, “ And why ever not? ”

Zayne enters the scene then, appearing from behind one of the boards. I try my best to portray the right amount of shock and tension as I’m supposed to, and then throw my arms around Carlton’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He stiffens. It’s the last thing I want to do since we aren’t on the best terms right now, but it’s in the script. “ Heathcliff has returned! ”

“ Well, don’t strangle me for that .” I note the slight gruffness in his voice that isn’t supposed to be there. “And try to be glad without being so absurd in front of the household. Heathcliff is nothing more than a runaway servant.” His gaze seems to land past me rather than directly on me.

We turn to Zayne in unison, and he fixes me with an intense, Heathcliff-y stare. My stomach does a little flip. I break away from Carlton’s embrace and go to him. He takes my hands. I take one of Zayne’s hands and place it into Carlton’s, like the blocking says to do. I pause for a moment too long, struggling to remember my line, and then say, “The two of you must be friends for my sake.” This is so awkward.

Zayne rips his hand out of Carlton’s and Carlton says, “Sit down, sir.”

“Cut,” Mr. Saltzman says.

My shoulders sag in relief. We all unconsciously take a step backwards, away from each other.

Mr. Saltzman makes a note on his clipboard. “That was excellent. But Carlton, try to show less disdain for Cathy, and make it clear your animosity is aimed toward Heathcliff.”

I glance at Carlton, trying not to let the hurt show on my face. Even the teacher noticed he’s mad at me.

Mr. Saltzman scratches his shiny head with the pen he’s holding. “Carlton, let’s go over some notes and then we’ll do it again, from the top.”

Carlton crosses the room to where Mr. Saltzman is sitting and the rest of us go back to our starting places. I return to my piano stool. Rue leans against one of the painted boards behind us. “Thank God we don’t have to make these sets ourselves,” she whispers to me. “It’s enough work just trying to memorize lines.”

I tilt my head. “Who does make the sets?”

“The crew.”

Carlton returns to his position, standing next to my seat when he’s done talking with the teacher. He avoids meeting my gaze, and my stomach ties itself in a knot.

And Mr. Saltzman claps. “All right, everyone. From the top!”

At lunch time, I try to swallow down my irritation when Carlton storms out of the drama room without me. Only Mabel hangs behind to wait for me while he, Meredith, and Rue sprint away, and we end up near the end of the lunch line.

“I wish we could find someone who would let us cut,” Mabel says, biting her lip and scanning the line ahead of us for a familiar face. She brightens. “Hey, what about Zayne? He’s up pretty far.”

My heart beats rapidly at the mention of his name. “No!” I practically shout. “Are you crazy?”

The mischief in her grin is unmistakable. “Why not? Aren’t you two like, buddy-buddy now? According to Little Birdie anyway.”

“No. We are not buddy-buddy. In fact, what Little Birdie says couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

But Mabel is already heading his direction, halfway up the line, and leaving me to look like an idiot talking to myself. I scurry after her, my beating heart now thundering. What is her problem? If Carlton catches me anywhere near Zayne outside of drama club, I might as well put a stake in whatever is left of our dilapidated, undefined, relationship.

“Hey, Zayne,” Mabel lilts when I catch up to her. “Mind if we cut with you?”

Zayne’s eyes sweep from Mabel to me, remaining a second too long before looking back at her. “Sure,” he says, stepping aside so we have room.

Mabel grins. I hesitate before stepping in front of Zayne and Lenny, who I didn’t realize was next to him.

“Hi, Lenny.” I wave at him.

He waggles his eyebrows. “Bardot-who-goes-by-Dot.” He turns to Mabel. “And Bardot-who-goes-by-Dot’s friend.”

She looks stunned, like she isn’t sure whether to laugh or continue staring at him, dumbfounded. “Uh, hi. You can just call me Mabel.”

“Queen.” Lenny states the word simply. “That’s what I’d call you if Bardot here didn’t already own the title.”

My lips twitch. Zayne closes his eyes and runs his hand down his face. “Lenny?—”

“Lady-in-Waiting will have to do,” he continues.

Mabel grins slowly, and Zayne rushes to explain. “You’ll have to excuse my brother, he’s?—”

“A charmer,” Mabel finishes for him. “He’s a charmer. I love it.”

Lenny takes Mabel’s hand, brushes his lips across the top, and bows without breaking their gaze. Mabel covers her mouth with her other hand and giggles.

I bite my smile away and turn to Zayne. “We should run lines.” It just comes out. But it’s true, nonetheless.

He looks around at the cafeteria, at the people in line surrounding us. “Now?”

I blush. “No. Obviously not now. But after school, maybe?” Even though spending extra time with Zayne is the last thing I need to be doing, I know it’s the right thing to suggest. Otherwise, me standing in the lunch line with Zayne looks to everyone else, including Carlton, like us hanging out. But if people think I’m only here to talk business with Zayne, especially theater business—the only business I have with him—there won’t be any basis for more rumors and Carlton can’t stay mad.

Zayne searches my face like he’s looking for the truth, or maybe a lie. “After school works. We can meet at my house again if you wan?—”

“Actually,” I cut him off, because meeting at his house again isn’t an option. Not after the field day Little Birdie had last time. “I’d rather not give you-know-who anything to talk about. Is there a…public place you know of that won’t make it look like we’re sneaking around or something?”

Zayne scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah. I know a place. There’s a park not too far. I can text you the address.”

“Perfect.”

Mabel furrows her delicately arched brows. “You aren’t going to invite Carlton, too?”

I didn’t realize she’d been listening, but it’s not like she and Lenny are far away.

“Yeah.” I tug on the sleeve of my sweater. “I guess I could invite him.” Zayne frowns at my words. But I meet his gaze and add, “The three of us do have scenes together.”

Zayne wrinkles his nose, and as if by magic, Carton brushes past us, lunch tray in hand and a stony expression on his face. He’s still ignoring me, but I can tell by the bunching of his shoulders that he sees me standing here. With Zayne.

“Carlton.” I grab his arm.

He stops walking and pulls his arm out of my grasp, but finally, finally , turns to look at me. “What?”

It takes me a moment to speak because I can’t believe he’s acknowledging me, let alone actually talking to me. “Oh. Um. We’re—I mean, Zayne and I are going to run lines after school.” I pause, letting the uncertainty of my own statement ring in my ears.

“That’s great, Dot,” he seethes. “I’m really happy for you.” Glaring at Zayne, he starts to walk away again, but I stop him.

“Want to come? You know, since we all have scenes together?”

He blinks several times, like he never considered the fact that the three of us would eventually be forced together into an interaction like rehearsal, due to the play. “Sure.” Carlton shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Sure, I guess that makes sense.”

“Boston Public Garden. Four o’ clock.” Zayne’s tone is clipped.

Carlton nods once. He looks at me for less than a full second before brushing past us to his lunch table.

Mabel cringes. “Well, that was awkward.”

But her words don’t register. I stare after Carlton as he walks away, a bud of hope beginning to blossom in my chest. He actually talked to me. And not only that, but he agreed to meet with me and Zayne. Together!

This is probably my last chance to prove to Carlton I care more about him than the play, than the lead role. That there’s nothing going on between me and Zayne. Once he sees us together and notices my interactions with Zayne are purely limited to running lines and responding sarcastically to his dry personality, he’ll be convinced. And then it won’t matter what Little Birdie writes about me anymore. It won’t matter what anyone thinks, in fact.

Because I will fix this. I will fix all of it.