The Pretty One(33)

Time for the kiss. I’m breathing hard, ready to put my lips on his, ready to demonstrate just how much I love him, how much I’ve always loved him…

“Thank you, Megan,” Mrs. Habersham says, interrupting me just as my lips are about to touch his. She smiles as she adjusts her glasses. “That was nice. Very nice.”

I suddenly realize that I’m clinging to Drew, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck and my boobs pressed up against his chest as if he really is my boyfriend. Holy crap, what am I doing? I drop my hands and step back.

“Drew?” Mrs. Habersham asks.

Drew is standing still, staring at me. He looks a bit off-kilter, as if confused or surprised.

“What did you think?” Mrs. Habersham asks him.

“You were great,” Drew says quietly to me.

Great. Drew said I was great. “Thanks!” I reply enthusiastically. I grab my backpack and escape out the door, a Cheshire cat–sized grin on my face. I did it. I read for Drew’s play and I didn’t pass out or throw up or make a fool of myself. It’s all too good to be true.

“Hey!” Drew says, rushing to catch up to me. Although school ended an hour ago the halls are still crowded with students auditioning for the senior productions. I stop in front of the drinking fountain and wait for him.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m totally impressed,” Drew says.

My heart bangs in my chest, and even though I’ve never done one before, I feel like doing a high kick right here in the hall. “Really?” I ask, smiling so big it actually hurts. “It was your script,” I say quickly. “Very powerful.” Very powerful? What kind of drama-speak is that? I’m beginning to sound like Lucy.

“Are you ready for me?” Iris Mackler asks Drew, pushing in between us to get a drink of water. She slurps it up and then turns around to face Drew as she slides her thin wire-rimmed glasses back up her nose. Iris scored big-time as a freshman, nabbing the lead in Medea. Tall and thin, with long, greasy-looking blond hair, she’s one of the best dramatic actresses in the school. It’s bad enough having to compete against my sister. I have forgotten about all the other way more talented than me drama majors who are auditioning as well. The wind is going out of my puffed-up sails.

“In a minute,” he says to Iris as he touches my arm, steering me away from her. I look down at his hand on my elbow and decide right then and there that in spite of the inevitable rejection it will still be worth it, just for this moment alone. “You read her exactly as I had envisioned,” Drew says. “A lot of people have been reading her like she’s crazy. You seemed to interpret her as more of a victim.”

“I don’t know if she’s a victim,” I say. “But I do feel sorry for her. She’s in love with someone who doesn’t exist.” Nice. Smart sounding but not over-the-top enthusiastic.

“I had a feeling you would get it,” he says. Drew smiles at me. This time, the tingle goes all the way to my toes.

“I should be getting back,” he says. “We have a couple more people to see this afternoon and then we’re all going to get together to discuss,” he says, walking backward while he continues to face me. “We’ll have the cast list up tomorrow.”

“Megan!” I hear. I turn around and see George, waving frantically as he heads in my direction.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then,” I say twisting back toward Drew. I’ll talk to you? I sound so certain, like of course I’ll be talking to him when he tells me I have the part. “Or whenever!” I call out quickly.

“Right,” he says, as he and Iris head back into the classroom.

I feel as if I just drank a six-pack of Mountain Dew. I’m wired so tight my head might just implode any minute.

“Hello, beautiful,” George exclaims, catching up to me. “Going to your locker?” I can’t deal with George right now. I really can’t.

“I’ll walk you,” he says, even though I haven’t answered him.

“But first…” George grabs the umbrella sticking out of his backpack and poof, opens it right in front of me. Right in the middle of the hall.

“You know what this means?” he asks me.

He either has a tick in his eye or he just winked at me.

“Seven years’ bad luck?” I say.

“Hah! Time for a rain check!” he exclaims. He narrowly avoids stabbing Catherine Bellows in the head with the umbrella as we begin to climb the stairs together. I say hello to Catherine but she ignores me, walking right past me without answering. I glance after her. What’s up with that?

“Danny Warner is having a few friends over Friday night,” George continues. “Come with me.”

Danny Warner is a friend of Lucy’s. Danny lives in a mansion in Roland Park and is known for his parties. I’ve been dying to go to one for as long as I can remember.

“I, ah…,” I say, reaching the top step. I stop when I see Simon waiting for me at my locker. Simon has made it pretty clear how he feels about George, and I don’t relish the thought of getting the two of them together. As Simon looks at me standing underneath an umbrella with George, he rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

“Come on,” George is saying. “I’m not going to leave until you say you’ll go.”