Page 97 of Stages


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And another.

Please.

I just want to explain

I know you don’t believe me, but Little Birdie was lying.

Unable to resist, I respond.

Me

So there is no Cassidy?

I can practically feel his relief like a palpable thing on the other end of the line.

Zayne

Not exactly…

Me

That’s what I thought.

The knot reappears in my chest as I send one last text.

Goodbye, Zayne.

And then I block his number.

It feels like cutting off my own arm.

My throat clogs with emotion.I have to do this. I have to let him go.And then the realization smacks into me with way too much force.I love him.

And along with the love, there’s a mix of bitterness and gratitude, because I can’t deny that I’m also thankful to Zayne. After all, he introduced me to a different side of acting than Carlton. It’s through him that I discovered what makes me feel alive. I finally know what I want to do with my future.

I, Bardot Bennet, want to be an actress, and I want to go to Underwood.

Not to make my parents proud. Not to prove to Zayne that I’m good enough. Not even to steal Carlton’s hopes for a spot this year.

I want to go for me.

And all I can do, after everything, is hope that I’m good enough.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Dearest Fledglings,

My oh my! Things have taken quite a turn, indeed. With the start of a new week under our wings, the event we’ve been awaiting is this very Saturday: the winter play! How awkward it will be, indeed!

Our poor little Dot has taken to eating her lunches alone, with not a friend in sight to comfort her. Perhaps one of those Evans twins, or even Rue Sullivan would make an appearance for her if Dot herself would, well, appear anywhere other than an empty classroom. But our It Girl has been M.I. A., hiding from her friends in places only I’ve noticed.

I do wonder how Zayne Silverman feels about the tangled web of pain and despair Dot must be enduring. It will certainly be a spectacle to watch them star as lovers onstage this weekend for all to see.

This faithful flapper wouldn’t miss it if you cut off my wings.

Yours truly,

Little Birdie