“So anyway, Rachel’s waiting for me,” he said, gesturing behind him.

“Okay.” Bianca smiled and gave a quick wave, and the three of us darted out the door.

“That was interesting,” Ally said as we climbed into my car.

“I’m still not sure what that was all about.” I started the car and headed back to school. Bianca was silent in the back seat. “You okay back there?”

She didn’t say anything at first; she kept staring out the window. “Good for him,” she said at last. She caught my eye in the rearview mirror. “The therapy and anger management stuff? I hope it’s working for him.”

I wasn’t sure why, but that made me think of my dad. I wondered if therapy really had helped him, and guilt weighed heavy in my chest as I thought about the times I’d continued to reject him.

****

“I’ll give Hunter his cinnamon roll and let him know you’re going to sit in,” Ally said as we walked into the auditorium. She paused at the back of the theater to look for her boyfriend, but when she couldn’t find him, she said, “I’ll bet he’s running lines with Kyle again. He’s such a sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

I watched her disappear into the lobby before Bianca and I sat down in the back row. About half a dozen students were moving set pieces around the stage. To the untrained eye, it looked like an uncoordinated flurry of activity, but in reality, everyone’s movements were deliberate and purposeful. It was organized chaos.

“Are you still bitter about missing out?” I said to Bianca. She would have probably been part of the cast if Dante hadn’t shoved her into a wall, leaving her with a concussion.

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. She sat straight in her seat. “I mean, I’m glad I have time to hang out with Tim and all, but….” She sighed and gestured to the stage with outstretched arms. “I love all of this.”

“I’m not so sure Ally does,” I said. “She seems tense.”

Bianca shook her head. “She’s stressed for sure. And all her extracurriculars? I don’t think she really knew what she was getting into.”

“She said she and Kyle still haven’t nailed that number.” I fought back a grin. “I think she’s ready to punch him or something.”

“Yeah, she told me the same,” Bianca said, laughing. “It’s too bad, too, because Kyle’s really—”

“Get away from me!” Ally screeched, cutting her off. We both turned to see her racing back in from the lobby, Hunter right behind her. It looked like he was trying to stop her, but she stayed well away from him.

“Ally.” They were in the center aisle a quarter of the way to the stage when he reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.

“‘Running lines,’ my—”

Hunter looked stricken. “Can you keep it down, please?”

“No,” she practically shouted, and then she began hurling long strings of obscenities at him.

Bianca and I glanced at each other. Ally rarely cursed. If she was angry enough to scream some of the things she was saying, Hunter must’ve done something really bad.

“Miss Katz!” Mrs. Riley glided up the aisle toward them.

“Oh, this’ll be good,” Bianca murmured as she leaned forward.

Mrs. Riley peered at them over her tortoiseshell frames. “Miss Katz, Mr. York, is there a problem?”

Ally drew herself up to her full five-foot-three height and whirled to face the drama director. “No, ma’am,” she said, her voice bright and sunny. “But maybe you should ask your assistant director here why Kyle’s been too distracted to focus on his marks or choreography. Or what they’ve really been doing while Kyle’s supposed to be working on his lines.” She turned to him with a wicked smirk before she flounced down the aisle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I wondered aloud. Then after a beat, I turned to Bianca, my eyes wide. “Wait. Isn’t Kyle—?”

“Gay?” She nodded.

“So does that mean Hunter…?”

Bianca shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it?”

Movement on the other side of the theater caught my attention, and a very flushed Kyle was making his way to the stage. No one paid much attention to him; most people were still looking at Hunter and Mrs. Riley.

“You don’t think…?”

“It’s possible.” Bianca frowned. “Or maybe Ally’s hyperactive imagination is out of control.” She shrugged again. “Something like this happens almost every production, but it’s usually the two leads hooking up with each other and having some wicked fall out right before opening night. It keeps the ‘drama’ in Drama Club.”

I glanced at Hunter, still standing in the middle of the aisle. He was hunched over with his hands in his pockets, and he hung his head as Mrs. Riley spoke to him in hushed tones. I couldn’t see his expression, but I wondered what was going through his mind.

“Well, if he is gay, then we know why everyone was so surprised she was going out with him,” she said.

“Did you think he was?”

She shook her head. “Nope. But he might not be.”

“I hope she didn’t really see what I think she thinks she saw.” I watched her take center stage, her head high and her shoulders pulled back. She oozed confidence on the outside, but I could only imagine what was spinning in her mind. “Poor Ally,” I said with a mournful sigh. If this was remotely like any of my mom’s breakups, I knew she’d need all the support I could muster. I wondered if that would be enough.

Chapter Thirty

Ally frowned as I unwrapped an ice cream sandwich and began eating it.

“How can you eat at a time like this?” she said. “I feel like I’m going to puke every time food comes near me.” I glanced warily in her direction and moved to the other side of her bedroom. A corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Well, maybe not literally.”

“So this isn’t going to be a huge calorie-fest?” I said.

She made a face and scowled at me. To be safe, I remained on the other side of the room while I ate, thankful I didn’t bring more snacks upstairs with me.

Ally’s moods had fluctuated the last couple of days. She went from angry to depressed to seemingly fine, all within minutes. But one thing was certain: After seeing Hunter with Kyle, Ally said there was no way she’d still take Hunter to the Sweetheart’s Dance. No one could blame her. Hunter didn’t apologize for leading her on or anything, but he at least had the decency to offer to pay for the unused ticket. That seemed to make her even more indignant, though.

On the plus side, Mrs. Riley seemed pleased. Her rehearsal notes for Ally were complimentary, saying she’d pushed her performance up a notch since The Incident, and Kyle had been a lot more focused. Who knew walking in on her boyfriend kissing her male costar would make Ally a better actress?

So that Saturday, instead of going dress shopping with Bianca, Ally and I holed ourselves up in her room. I was at a loss for what to do, though. Bianca had given me a list of romantic comedies we could watch, but I doubted Ally was in the mood for swoony heroes and happy endings. I didn’t even think she was up for a marathon of The Fast and the Furious movies. Angsty Ally rarely came out to play, and I wasn’t sure what to do with her.

“You know what’s amazing?” she said, flopping down onto her bed. “I’m not even that mad at Kyle. I mean, I kind of feel like I should be, but I’m not.”

I hurried to swallow the last of the ice cream sandwich and felt it lodge in the middle of my chest, freezing my insides. “Why would you be mad at him?” I managed to say before I coughed.

Ally looked at me as though I had three heads. “He was making out with my boyfriend! I mean, he was sort of my boyfriend.” She covered her face with her pillow and wailed. “At least now I know why Hunter never kissed me again or held my hand or anything,” she said between sobs.

I lowered my head. This was nothing like anything I’d seen my mom go through. I had no idea how to console her.