Wish You Were Gone(37)

“Mom,” Derek said, lowering his voice. She could picture him ducking in his chair, trying to get some kind of privacy in that damn open floor plan. “It’s all the people who James was going to—”

“I know,” Gray said. “I figured that out myself.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told Dad,” Derek said. “Maybe I should have just kept the whole thing to myself.”

“Derek, no. You had to tell the truth and I’m glad you did.”

“But if I hadn’t—”

“Baby, listen to me. You did what you had to do. You were a good son and a good employee. Every single thing that has happened as a result of this is on James Walsh, may he rot in hell. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now call back Selena’s agent and see if you can find out where your father is,” she instructed her son. “He must be meeting with at least some of them in person somewhere—that’s why he cleared his day. Find out where and then call the lawyers. These people can’t be tweeting slander. We need to shut them down.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m on it,” Derek said, sounding better now that there was a plan. Gray, meanwhile, was busy throwing things into her bag and slamming her laptop closed, totally unclear on what she was doing or where she thought she was going. Was she going to drive into New York City and check every restaurant and café for her husband? “Mom, I’m worried.”

“I know, baby,” she said, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. “But everything’s going to be fine. I’ve got this.”





KELSEY


“It’s so annoying that they picked The Wizard of Oz. There’s like three female roles.”

“And one of them you’ve got to paint yourself green and wear a snaggle tooth.”

“Please. We’ll be lucky to get cast as munchkins.”

“Or flying monkeys.”

Everyone around Kelsey laughed as Jason hunched his back and pretended to flit around, flapping his hands like wings. The other freshmen kept looking over at Kelsey. They all knew she was the only ninth grader to get a call-back, and they probably thought she was an egomaniacal bitch for not participating in their self-deprecating chatter. But they didn’t get it. They were nervous, yeah, but it was different for them. This was just their freshman play. What were they risking, really? An ego blow? Having a program as a keepsake? For Kelsey, this was everything. Her whole life hinged on the next five minutes.

Kelsey turned away from her peers. Her stomach was roiling in a way that was making her sweat and she felt like if the cast list didn’t go up soon, she might literally turn inside out. She kept checking over her shoulder for Hunter, who was supposed to meet her outside the school theater to drive her home, but there was no sign of him.

Willow was here, though. Of course Willow was here. She was standing with a few other members of the stage crew against the wall next to the case where Tisch would post the list. The four of them were just watching the hopeful actors, occasionally whispering to each other and rolling their eyes, as if hoping for something was just so juvenile.

Kelsey didn’t care. She wanted a part. Something that would look good on her Daltry application. She wanted to hit send already.

“This is intense,” Alexa whispered to Kelsey. “Makes me glad I have my spot in jazz band on lock.”

Kelsey attempted a smile. It almost made her puke. “Thanks for being here.”

Alexa gripped her hand. “Solidarity, girl.”

“Shit, there she is.”

Someone squealed and even the seniors began to twitter as Mrs. Tisch strode across the paver patio and over to the bulletin board outside the theater doors. People jostled each other out of the way, then angled for a glance at the cast list she held expertly away from them. Overhead, the gray skies rumbled.

“All right, you heathens, back up!” she said with a laugh.

Somehow, she unlocked the glass door protecting the board, posted the list, closed the door and locked it again, then got out of there without getting trampled or even the tiniest bit stepped on. On her way back to the main building, the wind whipping her hair across her face, she didn’t look a single soul in the eye. The woman was a pro.

The crowd surged forward, but Kelsey hung back. It was pointless to try to elbow her way to the front anyway; especially humiliating to do so and then find out that she was, in fact, Munchkin #12.

“I’ll go,” Alexa said, noting her hesitation.

Kelsey only nodded. There was a part of her, of course, that dreamed of being cast as Dorothy, just so she could shove it in everyone else’s face, but she knew that wasn’t even a remote possibility. She simply wanted to be on stage. No. She wanted something with lines. That was the only thing that would do for her Daltry application. They would know how competitive the arts were at Oakmont. And a speaking part for a freshman—even a small one—would— “No. Freaking. Way.”

Felicity Wells was standing right in front of her, looking like she wanted to shave Kelsey’s eyebrows off. Kelsey’s heart fluttered.

“What?”

“Congratulations,” Felicity said. “You’re the Wicked Witch.”

“What?!” Kelsey blurted. “Shut up. You’re just messing with me.”