Chapter One
My heart thunders in my chest as I stare at the door to the audition room. It feels like I stood up too fast or maybe ate something bad. The last thing I want to do right now is walk through that door and read cheesy lines to a drama teacher who will probably laugh at me. “Remind me again why I’m doing this.”
Carlton chuckles. He places his hands on my shoulders and squeezes. “You tell me.” His voice tickles my neck as he speaks against the collar of my uniform shirt, the sweet, minty scent sending pleasant shivers down my spine. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
His presence is the only reminder I need.He’s the reason you’re doing this, Dot. You need to impress him so he’ll finally ask you to be his girlfriend.
I paste a smile on and face him, my eyes fluttering as his gaze meets mine. “I’m just kidding. I’m interested, remember? The way you talk about how much you love this stuff has me curious is all. And I have no other extracurriculars at the moment. This should help my college applications a lot.”
When he grins again, the sight of his bright smile and endearing, golden-brown eyes taking me in practically makes me melt. He taps my nose with his thumb. “You’re adorable.”
And just like that, my heart restarts.
Carlton is the whole package—smart, sweet, Black, and even more boujee than I am. So I lead us through the doors of the classroom.
The brightly-lit room is set up with a heavy, oak podium at the head and groups of seating sprinkled throughout the space. The hum of conversation dims a little when we enter, and I notice several inquisitive gazes on my face, noting me and Carlton standing so close together. I feel a swell of pride at the idea that they might assume we’re together. Carlton cocks his head at an empty cluster of seats, and we sit. Our wood desks creak beneath our weight, and I wonder if they, like the rest of this prep school, are old enough to belong in a history book.
More students enter the room one by one, filling the remaining empty seats. When the rest of Carlton’s friends arrive—the offensively pretty Evans twins and Rue Sullivan, they have to lean against the wall because there are no more seats available.
“There are so many people here,” I whisper to Carlton. “Do they all want to audition?”
He nods. “The drama club here is fire. Everyone and their mom wants to be part of the play.”
I frown, struggling to remember some of the details he shared with me this summer before term began. “Because of that gossip columnist, right? Everyone wants to be featured by her?”
He nods, holding my gaze like it’s a shared secret between us. “Yeah. And Little Birdie only talks about the drama students for some reason. It’s wild.”
I’m about to ask more questions, but I’m interrupted by the appearance of the drama teacher, a tall, balding gentleman withpink cheeks who looks fifty-something. When he makes his way to the blackboard, some of the chatter in the room dies down. He writes his name, Mr. Saltzman, at the top of the board and turns to stand at the podium, straightening his stack of papers on the surface.
“Hi there, everyone. My name is Mr. Saltzman, and I’m thrilled to be leading this year’s auditions for Fallbrook Christian Prep’s winter performance of the beloved Wuthering Heights.”
There’s a smattering of claps.
“Before we begin,” he continues, straightening the square glasses on his nose, “I just want to stress something. There is no small part in any production. Every role in this play is as important as the lead, and I mean that. With that being said, if you don’t receive a callback, it’s not necessarily a bad thing. That could mean that I know exactly what role will best suit you and that’s that.”
A few people snort.
“Callbacks are almost always a good thing,” Carlton whispers. “At least, if you want a main part.”
I shrug. “And I don’t want that, obviously. I’m just wetting my feet here.”
“Our first audition today will be Meredith Evans and Nicolas Saffron,” Mr. Saltzman continues. “Please follow me to the adjoining room next door.”
Meredith, the green-eyed Evans twin, blinks in surprise. Her sister, Mabel gently nudges her forward, and Meredith follows another classmate to the door where the teacher is waiting.
The three of them disappear, and the chatter resumes full force. A few students crowd around Carlton, firing off questions for him about last year’s play and asking if he thinks he’ll get the lead this year.
“I really, really hope so,” he says. As he describes his role in last year’s production, he idly traces shapes on my panty-hosed knee with his pinkie, making heat travel through my body.
“It will either be you or Zayne,” someone tells Carlton. “That’s my guess.”
His finger briefly stills on my tights, and then resumes. “I guess we’ll find out,” he murmurs.
After what seems like fifteen minutes, the door opens at the front of the classroom, and Meredith and Nicolas exit, followed by the instructor. Meredith is grinning, practically oozing confidence, but Nicolas is wearing a grim, sullen expression.
Without preamble, Mr. Saltzman returns to the podium and picks up his list. “Up next is Zayne Silverman.” He scans the page with intensity. “Zayne, let’s have you read with Bardot Bennett.”
Oh, crap. My heart beats like a drum as I stand from my desk, painfully aware of all the curious eyes watching me. As the new girl at Fallbrook Christian Prep, it’s only expected I’ll stand out. I’ve been mentally preparing for random glances and questioning gazes all month. But with the classroom full of attentive stares currently on my face, I feel like a giant spotlight is permanently fixed above me. “It’s Dot, actually,” I tell Mr. Saltzman, and clear my throat when my voice comes out too quiet. “I just go by Dot.”
