Chapter

Five

You’re being ridiculous,” Riley says.

It’s a few minutes after sign-in, and she and I are back in our dorm room. We didn’t win the game—that honor went to Branden’s hall and their hilarious rendition of a merman, complete with painted-on shell bra—but we did spend the last half hour chatting as a hall. Megan was giving me the evil eye the entire time. I’m surprised I didn’t melt right then and there.

“I’m not,” I say. I’m lying on the bed in my pj’s, staring at the ceiling. One of the college kids had put up star stickers, and the RAs must have missed a few when cleaning the room; the stars glow faintly in the darkness. “I should just give up now. Megan’s right—Branden would never go for me.”

“So why is he being all flirty with you, huh?” she asks. She rolls on her side to look at me—even in the near dark, her fiery hair seems to glow from the corner of my eye.

I take a deep breath.

“Because it’s funny.”

She doesn’t answer for a moment.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s funny’?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I admit. I squeeze my eyes shut, like maybe it will hide me from what I’m admitting.

“What happened?” she asks. I hear her shuffle from her bed, and then she’s sitting next to me, a hand on my shoulder.

“It’s nothing.”

“Clearly it’s something.”

I don’t want to think about this, and I don’t know why I even mentioned it. I barely know her—I don’t even talk about this with the friends I’ve had since elementary.

“It’s embarrassing,” I finally admit. “But last year there was this guy. Josh. He played basketball and sat next to me in computer class. Anyway, one day he asked me out. And I said yes.”

“And?”

“What do you think? He told me to meet him at this restaurant, and then he didn’t show. Never gave me his number, so I just sat there, waiting, for like half an hour before I left and walked home.”

“Maybe he forgot?” Riley suggests, but her voice says she already knows that’s not the case.

“Nope.” I try to make my own words strong, nonchalant—I’ve spent the last few months convincing myself this guy didn’t get to me, and it’s still a struggle. “The next day he came into class, and the moment he saw me he burst out laughing. Got high fives from his friends and everything. It was . . . bad. I almost ran out of class right then. I never asked why he didn’t show—must have been some sort of sick joke. You know, get the nerd girl’s hopes up.”

Riley doesn’t answer for a while, but she also doesn’t move her hand from my shoulder.

“I had something similar happen once,” she finally says. “Though not with a date. Some jerk wrote me fake love notes for a week, left them in my locker. Good ones too—quoting Shakespeare and all that, so I thought they were genuine. Then the last one just said, ‘JK, I would never date a girl as ugly as you.’ ”

I open my eyes and look at her. There’s no sadness when she talks about it.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“I’m not,” she responds. “It taught me that some guys are real jerks. And somehow, I dunno, after that point I just stopped caring what people thought of me.” She shrugs her shoulders. “That was before I started dressing crazy—I’d spent so much time trying to fit in and look gorgeous like everyone else. I let everything go after that. And then, a few weeks later, I met Sandy at a juggling class. He liked me, fuchsia hair and all, and that’s when I learned there were still gentlemen in the world, and that the important ones will like you for all your crazy.” She squeezes my shoulder. “What I’m trying to say is, you can’t let that one bad experience get you down. I don’t think Branden’s that type of guy. And if he is, screw it. There’s someone out there for you. And when you meet him, you’ll know.”

She leans over and gives me an awkward hug.

“Anyway,” she says as she hops over to her bed. “I think you’re pretty awesome, and mine is the only opinion that counts around here. Obviously.”

“Thanks,” I reply. “I think you’re pretty awesome too.”

“Of course I am.”

A pause.

“Good night, Jennifer.”

“Good night, Riley.”

I close my eyes and block out the stars on the ceiling. In the shadows of my imagination, I let myself daydream about Branden smiling at me, taking my hand. Asking me on a date.

And I can almost let myself hope that in the real world, he’d mean it.

•  •  •

I wake up the next day with a strange mix of fear and excitement in my stomach. I’m up before the alarm—definitely a first for me—and jump on Riley’s bed to wake her up.

“Riley! Riley!” I laugh. “It’s Christmas!”

She groans and rolls over, burying her shock of hair beneath a pillow.

“No, it’s not,” she mumbles.

I pull the pillow off her. “Oh fine, you’re right. But it is almost breakfast time, and I don’t want to be late. Especially since we have warm-ups right after. I don’t want to throw up all over Branden on our first day.”

This makes Riley laugh, and she pushes herself up to sitting. “It would definitely make a lasting impression,” she says. Then she pushes me to the side. “Okay, okay, let’s go. But brush your teeth first—it smells like you ate cat poop in your sleep.”

I laugh and make sure to breathe in her face before rolling off the bed and heading to the bathroom.

•  •  •

“How’d you sleep, ladies?” Tyler asks. We’re all sitting at the same table in the corner; I keep hoping Branden will come sit by us, but no such luck. I spy him sitting with some of the guys from his hall, though he does glance over and catch my eye once.

“Like rocks,” I say.

“Speak for yourself,” Riley responds, picking at her eggs. “You snore.”

I throw a balled-up napkin at her.

“Liar. I do not.”

Riley looks at Tyler. “She does,” she says. “And mumbles. I kept waiting for her to sing opera.”

Tyler chuckles and runs a hand through his curly hair.

“Yeah, well, it can’t be worse than my roommate. Stinky McStinkerson doesn’t smell any better in the morning, let me tell you. And he snores like a train.”

Riley laughs.

“Still not worse than Jennifer.”

I shake my head. “You’re horrible,” I say.

“You love me.”

“Speaking of,” Tyler says, “when are you gonna make a move on that Branden kid?”

I stare at him, openmouthed, then glare at Riley. She tries to look innocent as she bites into her muffin.

“Oh, come on,” Tyler says, “it’s pretty obvious. I mean, you keep looking over at him.”

“You’re really bad at being discreet,” Riley adds.

I shake my head.

“I’ll make a move the same time you do,” I say. I smile at Tyler, who raises an eyebrow. “I saw how you were staring at that acrobat.”

“Kevin?” he asks. He breaks out into a grin. “Oh, sweetie, I’ve already made a move. We were chatting right up until sign-in last night. He’s really cute, and he only lives twenty minutes away from me. Kind of perfect.”

“Jealous,” Riley says. “Gay boys always get the cute ones.”

I elbow her. “You’ve got Sandy.”

She nods. “Yes, but that’s different. Besides, you’re changing the subject. Tyler’s brought his game, time for you to bring yours.”

“Okay, okay,” I say. “I’ll talk to him at lunch.”

“If not sooner,” Tyler says with a wink to Riley.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. But of course he won’t tell me. He just goes back to eating his scrambled eggs.

•  •  •

Just my luck: I find out what Tyler meant on the sooner side.

A few minutes after breakfast, we all gather in the gymnasium for group warm-ups. According to the program, this will be a daily thing—another team-building activity to keep us all on the same page. Except today, rather than gathering with our practice groups after, we head straight into auditions.