"Okay, okay, I'm coming."
We hang up, and I immediately jump to my feet, scanning the explosion of clothes on my bed.
From behind me, Sam looks up from her laptop, frowning at the chaos. "Everything okay, Care?"
"No," I say quickly, yanking open my dresser. "We have to do a surprise performance for the sponsors tonight."
"Oh... shit."
"Yeah, I know!"
She blinks, then adds, "Wait—what about your date with Zach?"
I freeze.
Shit. Shit. Right. The date.
I turn to her, conflicted, my stomach twisting itself into knots. I want to go.
God, I've been waiting for this first date with Zach practically my whole life—back when I used to plan it all in my head like a deranged lovesick fool. The outfit, the restaurant, the way he'd finally hold my hand—yeah, I'd imagined it so many times it almost felt real.
I'd basically storyboarded the whole thing years before it was even remotely possible.
And now that it finally is supposed to be, the universe just had to throw in a plot twist.
Sure, he hasn't texted much lately—but what if he shows up? What if he knocks on my door and I'm not here? He might think I bailed on him. Again.
But this showcase... it's important too. Really important.
And Callahan and the sponsors are not the type you keep waiting.
I let out a long sigh and grab my bag. "I'll just text him later," I mumble. "If he comes, just tell him I can't make it tonight. Whatever. He didn't even bother texting me anyway."
Sam watches me, brows furrowed, as I shove my feet into my sneakers and rush toward the door.
"Care—"
But I'm already halfway out, heart pounding, torn somewhere between guilt, frustration, and the smallest, stupidest flicker of hope that he'll still text before I go onstage.
*****
The locker room smells faintly of hairspray and fabric starch, the usual chaos of rehearsals replaced by a strange kind of focused panic. Costume racks line the wall, pink tulle and glittery bodices spilling everywhere like cotton candy exploded.
Lucy's crouched by my side, helping me step into the layers of the Sugarplum Princess gown while Tammie fluffs out the skirt like it's a life-or-death mission. Katie's standing over me with a makeup brush clenched between her teeth and a compact in her hand, squinting like she's painting the Mona Lisa.
"Can younotmove for, like, three seconds?" Katie scolds, tapping blush onto my cheekbones.
"I'm literally trying to breathe," I mumble, holding my arms out so Lucy can zip the back of my corset. "Pretty sure this thing's cutting off my circulation."
"Beauty is pain," Tammie says, tugging on the ribbons to secure the bodice tighter. "And in your case, maybe mild suffocation."
I laugh, but my eyes drift toward the mirror—toward the glittering reflection staring back at me. It still feels surreal.
"Wait," I say suddenly, glancing around the empty room. "Where is everyone? Why am I the only one in here?"
"Adam and the guys are in the men's locker room," Lucy answers, adjusting one of the crystal pins in my hair. "They're probably halfway into their uniforms by now. Everyone else's already setting up backstage in the gym—lighting, props, sound, you name it."
Katie hums in agreement, dabbing a final bit of shimmer on my eyelids. "Yeah, it's about to start soon. The sponsors are on their way, and Callahan's losing her mind out there."
