The Pretty One(30)

“I brought lunch,” I say, motioning toward my backpack. God forbid I waste that great turkey sandwich, especially when Mom told me two days ago I had better finish the turkey up because it was starting to smell.

“Rain check then.” He jumps the last step and stands in front of me, blocking my path. “I’m not leaving until I get one.”

“A rain check?” I ask.

“Alrighty then,” he says with a smile. “It’s a date.”

Say what?



I’m on my way to English class when I see Drew and Lucy huddled together, deep in discussion. For the second time that day I change directions rather than deal with the consequences. And for the second time that day I’m not quite fast enough.

“Megan,” Lucy says, cheerfully waving me over. “Drew and I were just discussing the spring musical,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” I say, my attention focused only on Lucy. Maybe if I don’t look at Drew ever again my heart will stop hurting. Eventually. I hope. “Congratulations,” I say politely as my eyes inadvertently glance toward his.

“Thanks,” he says, giving me a little smile.

My heart skips a beat.

I glance away. Damn! What was I doing looking at him?

“I’m trying to convince Megan here to audition for my one act.”

“You are?” Lucy exclaims.

I forget all about my vow not to look at Drew and stare at him, openmouthed.

“Sure, why not?” he asks, opening his folder. He takes out a manuscript and hands it to me.

It’s a play. His play. “Thanks,” I squeak. I can barely breathe, not to mention speak. I glance at my sister as if to say, “Can you believe this?” But it is obvious from the major frown on her face that she doesn’t share my happiness.

“All right Fletcher sisters,” he says, “I have to get to class.”

As soon as Drew is out of earshot, Lucy looks at me like I just sucker-punched her and says, “Why didn’t you tell me he asked you to audition?”

I turn away from her, torn between a tiny sliver of guilt at having somehow played a part in upsetting her and a huge wad of excitement over the fact that Drew wanted me to audition. “I don’t know,” I say, glancing down at the play as if it is a ten-carat diamond. “I guess I didn’t think he was serious.”

“So are you going to?” Lucy asks, as we begin to walk down the hall.

Is that a tremor I hear in her voice? Don’t tell me she’s got a tremor!

“Going to what?” I ask, stalling for time.

“Audition for his one-act.”


No doubt about it. It’s a tremor. The tremor she gets when she’s really upset. The one she gets when she’s about to cry. This is so unfair. I know she’s disappointed, since she thought Drew wrote the part for her and he so obviously did not, but still. “I don’t know,” I say.

And then I get it. A bolt from the blue.

“What do you think I should do?” I’m going to put my future and potential love life in her hands. I’m willing to bet that my sister’s good-naturedness and her natural ability to share will put a stop to the tremor.

She looks stunned. “Well, you wouldn’t be able to work on the set with all your friends if you were in the play.”

No tremor. “Yeah,” I say, even though her reasoning is total bs since “friends” really means one person: Simon. And he certainly isn’t going to care.

“And besides, Habersham really prefers that the directors cast the senior drama majors.”

I’m beginning to get a little nervous. I honestly thought she would have caved by now. “You were cast when you were a junior,” I say, as I start walking faster.

“True but—”

“But I guess that was different,” I say angrily, forgetting all about my plan to play it cool. I begin to walk really, really fast, so fast, I’m already three steps ahead of her. Ugh. Why had I even given her the power in the first place? So she had a tremor. So what?

“Megan, wait,” she says. “Maybe you should try out anyway, just for the experience. And Drew asked you to, so why not,” she says with a tiny bit of resolve.

I stop in my tracks. “Really?” I say.

“Really.” She nods.



It’s family dinner night. Before my accident I wasn’t too crazy about family dinner night, because it meant Dad was home and his presence always guarantees a certain amount of tension. Even though Mom makes more money than Dad (and of the two of them Dad is the only one who knows how to cook), on family dinner nights, Mom is the one responsible for dinner. She sets the table and serves the food and then asks him a million times how his dinner is and if he likes it, as if she’s slaved over the stove cooking it instead of double-parking the car outside a restaurant and running in to pick it up. Tonight she has picked up dinner in Little Italy, which just happens to be one of my favorite places on earth. Lucy and I help set the table and we all sit down.

“So…,” my dad says, helping himself to a gigantic portion of pasta. “Mom says you got asked to try out for a play today,” he says, looking at me.

I steal a glance at Lucy. Even though Lucy has given me her blessing to try out for Drew’s play, I can’t help but feel a little weird. But to her credit, all her hesitancy about me auditioning seems to have evaporated. She’s eating her rigatoni, seemingly unbothered by the topic. “Yeah,” I say.