Chapter

Nine

Okay, I hadn’t honestly expected the entire lunchroom to stop talking and stare at me when I walked in, but the nagging fear was there as Riley half guided, half dragged me toward the cafeteria. So the fact that I’m able to not only walk in, but get my food and sit at a table without anyone so much as looking at me twice, kind of blows my mind. If this was high school, there’d be at least one group of girls snickering behind my back.

That said, I don’t even bother trying to find Megan and her sisters in the crowd—I’ve no doubt that they’re definitely talking about me. Maybe they’re still trying to spread the rumor that I threw up all over the trapeze rig. Having Riley at my side honestly makes me not care so much.

Riley and I sit next to Tyler and a couple of his acro buddies. They all give the cursory hello and then go back to chatting about the tricks they nailed or screwed up during auditions.

“I heard what happened,” Tyler says to me, keeping his voice low. “You okay?”

“I didn’t throw up.”

“Shame,” he says with a wicked smile. “It would have made such a good story. So what happened? Vertigo?”

I nod. “Turns out I don’t like heights.”

“Join the club,” Riley says around a mouthful of her burger.

“You are just the portrait of a lady,” Tyler says, staring at her.

She grins and lets a few crumbs drop from her mouth. “Yep!” she says happily.

Tyler shakes his head in mock disgust, then turns back to me. “Well, don’t worry about it. So long as you stay around this one, you’ll always appear to have more social grace.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what that means,” Riley says.

“Please do. And chew with your mouth closed.”

In response, Riley makes her gnawing noise again and buries her face in the burger.

I laugh, then look across the cafeteria and spot Branden. My humor dies in my chest; he’s sitting beside Megan, her other sisters nearly blocking him from my view.

“What is she doing with him?” I say, not meaning to utter it aloud.

Tyler follows my stare.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “She doesn’t stand a chance.”

But there’s a sick feeling in my gut as I watch them talk. He laughs at something she says, and I don’t miss the way her hand brushes against his as she reaches for a napkin. Suddenly all I can think of is Josh, the guy who stood me up, and the way he went for a cheerleader not a week after tormenting me.

“You’re totally not listening, are you?” Tyler asks, nudging me with his elbow.

I jerk and look back at him. Was I really just staring at Branden like a lovesick idiot?

“Sorry,” I say. Because he’s right, I didn’t hear anything.

He sighs.

“I said, how was juggling? ” He asks the question unnecessarily slowly.

“Good,” I respond.

“Really good,” Riley says, wiping her mouth with a handful of napkins. “Jennifer’s picking it up real quick. I spoke with Jim after the audition, and I think we’re going to try to set up a partner ­routine.”

I look at her, surprised.

“What?” she asks. “I told him I wanted to work with you, and he agreed. So yeah. You’re definitely in.” She wraps an arm across my shoulders. “And you’re stuck with meeee!” she sings.

“I feel so sorry for you,” Tyler says.

“Could be worse,” I say. “I could be stuck in contortion with those three.”

Riley snorts with laughter.

“That would definitely be a worse fate.”

“What about you?” I ask Tyler. “What did you audition for?”

“Acro and rope,” he says. “Though I spoke with one of the coaches who works as a hand balancer professionally. I guess they don’t technically teach it during the camp, but he offered to train me on the side. Your boy Branden was there as well, auditioning for Cyr wheel. He’s good. Really good. Except at backflips—kid nearly broke his own nose. Too bad he plays for your team.”

“I thought you had your eyes set on the acro boy. Kevin?” Riley asks.

“Oh, I do,” he says. He grins at Kevin, who catches Tyler’s gaze, returns it, then blushes and goes back to talking with a ­couple of the girls from my hall. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t admire beauty. And Branden is pretty beautiful.”

I sigh without meaning to and catch myself staring again at Branden, who’s still sitting with Megan and her sisters. Branden, who looks so much more at home surrounded by that much talent and beauty. Tyler says Megan doesn’t stand a chance, but I think he’s just trying to make me feel better. Branden’s cut out to be with someone immensely talented. I’ve already proven that’s not me.

After that realization, it’s practically impossible to find my appetite. I pick at the fries on my plate and listen to everyone else talking around me. But I’m already drifting. They’re already moving faster than I ever will.

•  •  •

Near the end of lunch, right after they bring out a tray of what I thought were brownies but are actually chocolate-chip granola bars—a terrible misconception, albeit still tasty—Olga nonchalantly walks over to a bulletin board on the wall and pins up three sheets of paper. The casting announcements. She’s barely taken a step to the side before half the camp is jumping from their chairs to see them. I’m not among the first, that’s for sure; I already know I’m not getting into flying trapeze.

Still, when I do make it up there, I’m a little disappointed to see that I was right. Riley stands at my side and congratulates me on getting into juggling with her, even though that was kind of a giveaway. I feel a little sick to see I was the only one who auditioned who didn’t get into flying trapeze. Branden’s name is at the top, a reminder that he and I are on completely different social levels. And seeing as how we won’t have any training together, I might as well get used to that fact now.

“Such a shame,” comes a voice beside me. The drawl makes my skin crawl. “Here I was hoping we’d get to see more of your amazing aerial acrobatics.”

I glare at Megan, who is staring at the announcements with a contented, malicious smile on her face, like a cat who just ate a large and tasty mouse. Every part of me wishes I had some sort of snappy comeback, but I’ve got nothing. Not that I have any time to respond. She looks at me, her grin widening.

“It’s probably for the best. Can’t have you thinking you’re good enough for Branden, can we?” Then she winks and spins on her heel, walking off toward the exit, where the rest of her sisters are waiting.

“I really, really hate her,” I mutter.

“I think the feeling’s mutual,” Riley replies. I nearly jump—I’d forgotten she was even standing there. Just shows how much Megan gets to me, seeing as Riley’s hair makes her stand out in a crowd. I look around the cafeteria but Branden’s already gone, probably off to afternoon practice. “Come on,” Riley says, once more taking me by the arm. “Juggling will help. And if you’re really frustrated, we can just start throwing clubs at each other. That’s always helped me de-stress.”

Chapter

Ten

The rest of the afternoon passes in a fairly contented blur. It’s hard to focus on not getting into flying trapeze when there are juggling pins being hurled at my head. Riley’s decided she and I are going to do a partner act for the final show. But she wasn’t happy with just a normal ground routine, no. She wanted to add “an extra level of danger.”

Which, to her, meant doing the entire routine on top of rolling globes, which are exactly what they sound like—giant plastic balls I’m somehow supposed to balance on while throwing pins. Our coaches taught us how to stand and even walk a little bit, and although I only fell off a few times, I have a feeling it’s going to be nearly impossible to combine it with juggling. Still, Riley is relentless with her optimism, and when the first session of practice is over four hours later, she’s already discussing our music choices as we wander over to dinner.