Always Never Yours(51)

I smile tentatively. “They weren’t entirely undeserved, but thanks. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but you know, I’m here for you.”

“I want to hit pause on the Eric situation,” he says after a long second. I know from his hunched shoulders and the waver in his voice that it’s not something he’s pleased to admit.

“I understand,” I say quickly.

“But for the record,” he continues, beginning to smile, “the entire night wasn’t terrible.”

“No night with your unbelievable carne asada could be.”

He laughs. “Stuff with Eric . . . wasn’t the worst.”

“It didn’t look it.”

Anthony’s eyes slowly widen with realization. “You did not.”

I give him a close-lipped smile. “Just for a second.”

He shakes his head admonishingly, but he’s grinning. “Well, watching you and Owen concoct your fake relationship story . . . It was almost the highlight of the night.” He fixes me with an indicative stare. “You know, you two would actually make a cute couple.”

I say nothing. I won’t pretend the thought's never flitted through my head, but he’s . . . Owen. No way would a guy who’s never without his notebook, whose current relationship consists of blurry video chats twice a week, who’s quiet and reserved, go for someone who’s brash and forward like me. No. I’d be better off sticking to guys who want to get to the point. Guys like Will.

Instead of saying all that to Anthony, I seize the crossbow from the counter and shoot a dart into his chest. He rolls his eyes. “Why are you even talking to me?” I ask with joking indignation. “You’re in the middle of class.”





SIXTEEN




JULIET: O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?

II.ii.36


“DENY THY FATHER AND REFUSE THY NAME, or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love—”

“Nope!” Jody’s voice rings sharply to where I’m standing on the balcony set. It’s the first day of rehearsal with the half-painted wooden structure Will built—a single-story tower with a staircase down the back and a trellis with plastic ivy winding up the front. I think Jody expected performing on the set would awaken my inner Juliet. No such luck.

I hear Tyler sigh from the stage below. I don’t blame him, really. It’s the sixth time Jody’s interrupted us before we’ve even finished the scene. On the other hand, I’m not exactly overflowing with sympathy for Tyler Dunning at the moment. It’s been a week since Madeleine’s confession, and I haven’t forgiven either one of them. Not even close.

Jody climbs onto the stage. “This isn’t working,” she says, her eyes on me. “I know you’re trying to find the softer Juliet, Megan, but it’s not coming through. No one is buying this romance.”

“It’s partly my fault,” Tyler butts in before I have the chance to reply. He glances over at me pityingly, and I feel my blood heat with anger. He’s got some nerve, implying my performance is falling apart because of personal stuff between him and me. It’s not just patronizing, it’s wrong.

“I feel like I’m playing Romeo’s opening lines too comedic,” Tyler continues. “It’s probably throwing Megan off.”

Wow. Even worse. Tyler never criticizes his own work. He must think I’m on the verge of having a meltdown in the middle of rehearsal over something he did to me half a year ago.

Jody rubs her eyes. “No, Tyler, it’s not just on you,” she mutters. Putting her glasses back on, she looks from Tyler to me. “I think the two of you need to take a couple minutes to talk through the scene dynamics. Regroup backstage, and we’ll pick up in five.”

I literally would rather change a thousand of Erin’s diapers. Clenching my script, I head down the narrow stairs. Tyler’s waiting for me backstage, rubbing his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“Jody’s on the warpath today. I actually think the scene’s going pretty well,” he says in a rush and way too casually.

I stare at him hard. “Why are you doing that? First you try to take the fall. Now it’s Jody’s fault? I can handle getting critiqued.”

“I guess I feel bad.” He shuffles his feet uncomfortably. “You know, for my part in what happened. I never meant to cheat on you.”

Is he for real? “Oh, well, if you never meant to, then it’s fine.”

He pulls a remorseful expression—one I’ve seen too many times on stage. “I’m trying to apologize, Megan.”

“Then I should fall over myself forgiving you, right? What you did was shitty, and I’m not just going to be cool with it because you feel bad.” I hear Anthony hurling insults at Jason Mitchum on the other side of the curtain, rehearsing Mercutio and Tybalt’s fight sequence. At least everyone’s not just listening to Tyler and me.

“Huh.” He rubs his jaw. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

I narrow my eyes. “What?”

“You just never seem to really care about, well, anything.”

I blink a couple times, his words setting in. First Anthony telling me I’m resigned to failure, now Tyler thinking there’s nothing I care about? Is that who everyone thinks I am? Just a girl who flits through life without trying, without hurting, without caring about anything except the next guy?