Skinny(64)

“Maybe not. Rat has stuck with you through a lot. He’s not the type of guy to disappear when things get rough.” Briella reaches down to scratch Roxanne’s dark head, and Roxanne immediately stretches out onto her side for a tummy rub. “You should talk to him.”

“I will,” I say, but I don’t know what I’ll say.

“So what about the audition? The musical tryout is coming up, right?”

“It was.”

“Was?” She squints at me.

“I don’t know if I want to go through with it now. The last time I was on a stage in front of a lot of people . . .” My voice trails off at the memory of sitting on top of that broken chair.

“A lot has changed since then. You’ve changed.”

“Maybe I haven’t changed enough.”

“So, you want to give up?” She places both hands on her knees and leans in to stare intently into my eyes.

“It’s not giving up,” I say, but I know it really is.

“Do you want to be on a stage singing for people? Do you want a part in the musical?” She considers me for a moment, and then hits me hard with the last question. “Do you still want it?”

“Yeah,” I say, without even pausing to think about it. “I do.”

My answer surprises me, but as I say it, I know it’s true.

“Then all of this wasn’t for Jackson. It was for you.”

I think about it. “Yes, it was.”

“Then get up on that stage and show them what you can do. You’re going to wow them.”

“Look at you. Being all cheerleader.”

“God, no.” She laughs. “Don’t ever call me that.”

I rub Roxanne’s tummy, and she stretches her head back on the pillow in ecstasy. “You know, I always thought Rat would be in the audience during the audition,” I say. “Now I’m not so sure he’ll want to be.”

“You should ask him,” Briella says. A little hope unfurls somewhere deep inside me. “That might be all he’s waiting for.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I say doubtfully. “What about you? Will you come?”

“You want me to be there?”

I nod, and she claps her hands together, startling a short bark out of Roxanne, who hops down off the bed, ready for something exciting to happen.

Briella leans over and hugs me. “I’ll be your biggest fan,” she says softly over my shoulder, and I laugh because it is so different from the voice I usually hear whispering in my ear.





EVER AFTER





Chapter Twenty-Two





Briella drives me to the audition and walks in with me. People are spread out in individual seats throughout the auditorium, but there’s a pretty good crowd. The audition is open to anyone who wants to listen, but I recognize quite a few kids from drama class, including Kristen Rogers, who is sitting in the second row, literally biting her nails. I see Gigi and Jackson near the front left-hand side of the stage, his arm draped across the back of her shoulders. She smiles up at him, and he tucks a strand of blue hair behind one ear. I wait for the jolt of jealousy to hit, but it doesn’t.

“What happened to you at the Ball?” Whitney stands in front of us with her two hands placed firmly on her hips, blocking the way to the seats. “One minute you were dancing and the next you were nowhere to be found. Jackson said you left.”

“I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Was it your stomach?” she asks. Her brow wrinkles and her eyes narrow.

“Just forget it,” Briella says. She grabs one of my arms and tries to pull me around Whitney. “Let’s go. It’s going to start in a minute.”

“Wait. Was it . . .” Whitney’s voice lowers and she grabs my other arm to keep us from leaving. She looks around quickly to see who might be nearby and then whispers dramatically, “Dumping?”

“No,” I say. “It wasn’t anything like that.”

“Because I told Jackson that punch was way too sweet.”

Whitney is rigid, her eyes unwavering. “I should have known.”

She’s concerned? About me?

“It wasn’t that,” I say quickly.

Briella rolls her eyes, but I pull my arm out of her grasp. I feel like I need to say something.

“I’m sorry about the dance, Whitney. You went to a lot of trouble,” I say. “I know you wanted it all to be special.”

“I did.” Her lower lip sticks out and quivers just a bit. She glances over at Briella. “I really did.”

She’s not going to actually cry, is she? Oh, God. I can’t leave the powerful, popular Whitney Stone looking like that. Even Briella looks a little taken aback.