Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(52)
I imitated him, keeping my eyes on the novella while talking. “She talked me into it. I love Phantom, anyway, so it wasn’t hard. You?”
“Student council let out early. Matt skipped because he had to be here and he’s my ride home.” Matt, Student Council VP and Kris’ best friend. I should have realized that was why he’d take time to be at something like this.
“Oh.” How eloquent. I scrambled to remember something that could help, but my mind was completely filled with Camilla’s story. I wished he’d go to the bathroom or anything so I could check my notebook for something flirty or cute to say or do.
An innocent smile curls over my lips and I drop my eyelashes oh so slightly to project the illusion of a perfectly demure young Victorian lady. “Oh, please don’t go. I need your help.” I keep my voice soft and musical. “I am an angel and I’ve been trapped in this mirror by demons. Won’t you save me?”
I hold back a grin as his hand freezes midway through covering the mirror and, instead, pulls the mourning drape back completely. Success. If there is one thing boys cannot resist, it is saving a lady in danger. Now, to get him to touch the mirror…
I jumped back to the last two paragraphs. Yes, Camilla was evil, but she was successful, at least with Victorian boys. I hid the smile that threatened to come out, as a Camillaworthy plan formed.
Em finished her third run-through of the Lottie scene and I glanced over at Kris to make sure he wasn’t too deep into whatever he’d been doing on his phone. Taking a deep breath and channeling Camilla—be delicate and helpless—I stood up like I was about to applaud Em’s performance and quickly let my knees buckle, pretending to reach for anything solid around me. “Oh, no,” I said in as shaky a voice as I could manage, soft enough not to mess with rehearsal, but loud enough for Kris to hear me.
Or maybe not loud enough. Without Kris jumping to my aid and catching me like I’d expected him to, my hip slammed hard against my armrest and I stumbled, barely catching the back of one of the chairs in the row in front of me before I could hit the floor. The sharp yank ran up my bow arm to my shoulder and I prayed that I didn’t tear or pull anything.
Kris finally reached out and grabbed my arm to steady me and help me sit back in my seat. “Whoa, are you okay?”
I forced a weak laugh, sucking back pain and the temptation to rub at my sore hip or rotate my shoulder. “I guess I stood up too fast.” That had been as far from graceful and Camilla-like as possible. I dropped my eyes, not so I could be demure and Victorian, but so he couldn’t see the utter mortification that had to be written all over my face. “Thanks for asking.” I pushed my hair out of my eyes and wished I could actually disappear into a mirror.
A dandelion yellow sweater-covered arm swept into my line of sight, knocking Kris’ hand away. “C’mon, Feebs. Rehearsal’s over and we need to go before Dad decides he’s tired of waiting and that I should catch the late bus to ‘build character’ or something. Let’s go.” Em hadn’t even bothered to put on her coat and tugged so hard at my sore arm I almost cried out.
“Give me a minute.” I straightened myself out, giving Kris my best “don’t mind my crazy friend” twisted-lip smile before her grip tightened and she started dragging me up the auditorium aisle. I managed a weak wave at Kris on the way out.
Em shrugged on her coat once we were in the hallway, shaking her head at me the whole time. “I saw the whole thing while we were finishing up. You so did that on purpose.”
I rotated my arm a few times, thankful that the ache had faded away before putting on my own coat. No permanent damage, thank goodness. “No, I didn’t.”
Em narrowed her eyes, going so far as to wag a finger at me like I was a two year old caught sneaking out of time out. “Please don’t ever do that again. You’re just going to perpetuate antiquated gender stereotypes.”
“I was imitating Camilla, who was from the late eighteen hundreds, so, success?” I said, weakly.
She made a huffing sound. “I need to burn that notebook of yours. And, FYI, you need to work on your acting skills.”
Her last dig hurt. “My acting is perfectly fine.”
“Uh-huh.” Em laid the back of her hand against her forehead and swayed like she’d just come off the tilt-a-whirl. “Oh, Kris, evil leprechauns have taken away my sense of balance and I need your spaghetti-limp politician arms to catch me before I fall into a magical mirror.”
“Em…” I shot a nervous glance around the hallway, but thankfully, we were the only ones there.
“That’s what you looked like back there.” She twirled happily around me, obviously holding back a laugh from the way she was pressing her lips together.
“No, I didn’t.” At her level stare, I heaved a saintly sigh and started dragging her towards the front door.
“Well, at least I’m happy to see you’re moving on from moping about Dev. We just need to find someone— anyone—better than Kris for you to crush on.”
I ignored her last comment. “Changing the subject, your singing was amazing today.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked. “Thanks. I still have a lot of work to do to hit some of those notes, though. But, watch out Broadway, when I do.”
As Em chatted about octaves and stage directions, I mentally made a note to keep Camilla out of my notebook. I should have known from the world of bookish karma that nothing good would come out of imitating one of the bad guys.