The Pretty One(34)

What can I say? I’d love to go, but not with you? Besides, due to the stupid umbrella, people are starting to stare. There must be some giggly, hand-touchy way to get out of this gracefully, but I have no idea what it would be. “If you leave the umbrella at home,” I say.

George pats his heart twice, just like I saw him do the year before when he asked Michelle Berkowitz to the fall festival.

“That guy is so annoying,” Simon says, when I get to my locker. “What was that shtick with the umbrella?”

“He said he was cashing in on my rain check from blowing him off for lunch the other day. He asked me to go to Danny Warner’s party with him on Friday night.”

“What an elitist bum,” Simon says, angrily. “He never noticed you when you were, well…” Simon stops himself.

“When I was what?” Excuse me, but was my best friend about to call me the u-word?

“Did he ever say hello to you before this year?” He shakes his head. “I hope you put him in his place.”

“Well…”

“You’re kidding me,” Simon says, reading my reaction as a big, no-I-did-not-put-him-in-his-place.

“He caught me at a vulnerable moment. I panicked.”

“All right, fine,” Simon says. “So we’ll go out on Saturday night.”

Crap and double crap. I forgot that I talked to Simon about doing something this weekend. “Saturday night is my date night with my mom.”


Simon looks like I just threw his favorite sneakers in the toilet. “So you’re blowing me off this weekend,” he says.

“No,” I say. “I just need to…”

“Take a rain check?” Simon jokes. But it’s obvious from the look in his eyes that he’s not happy. “Anyway, how was your audition with Drew?”

Up until that moment I had every intention of discussing it in detail with Simon. But the sneer in his voice when he said Drew’s name was unmistakable.

“Okay,” I say simply. And amazingly enough, Simon lets it go at that.



When I get home, I go straight to the kitchen and start rummaging through the cupboards, looking for something good to eat.

“Hey,” Lucy says, walking into the kitchen with her purse swung over her shoulder.

I find an unopened bag of pretzels and another of Oreos. I decide that I should start with the least caloric snack first. “All right,” I say. “I was nervous.” I rip open the pretzels.

“Did Drew say anything? Give you any clue as to what he thought?”

“Not really.” I practically gag on the dry lump of pretzel as I swallow it. I twist around and grab the package of Oreos. My dad was buying double-stuffed for a while, which I’m not crazy about since I find them too sugary. These are the original single-stuffed, the kind I prefer. “How did yours go?” I ask, as I rip them open.

“Fine,” she says. “Great.”

“Good,” I say, crunching down on an Oreo.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Lucy says casually. “Marybeth invited me out to dinner with her parents.”

“But it’s your turn to cook,” I mumble, my mouth too full of Oreos to speak clearly.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ll cook tomorrow night if you want.”

It’s obvious that she is still mad at me. And I feel a little guilty, like maybe her anger is justified. Like I have done something wrong. But what have I done? After all, she gave me the go-ahead to audition.

“Oh, by the way,” I say, trying to sound excited. “George asked me out for Friday night.”

My telling her about George is a peace offering. After all, I would expect this news to please her since she’s been pushing for me to go out with him.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she says, heading toward the front door.

“We’re going to Danny Warner’s party.”

“Should be fun,” she says, opening the door.

I put down the bag of Oreos. “Lucy,” I call out.

“Yeah?”

I hesitate. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” she says impatiently. “I just don’t have time to chat. I have to meet Marybeth in twenty minutes.”

I don’t believe her but instead of tackling her in the doorway and forcing a confession and a sisterly hug, I go back to my Oreos. After all, everything will go back to normal tomorrow when she finds out she has won the part.

I’ll be disappointed, but in a way, it’ll be a relief.





eleven

upstage (verb): to overshadow another performer by moving upstage and forcing the performer to turn away from the audience.

Even though I try to go to sleep before Lucy, I’m still awake when she crawls into bed. I know Lucy knows I’m still awake because my eyes are wide open, but neither she nor I say a word to each other. Up until two days ago, Lucy and I never went to sleep without wishing each other good night. I didn’t really think much of it when we missed the first night, but I was a little bothered by it the second time it happened, and now I find myself extremely agitated by the realization that we might never wish each other a good night again. And that would really stink because what kind of sisters went to sleep without wishing each other good night?