‘Yeah, have fun.’ I smile, and watch Val follow his friends. I don’t know why I said that. I haven’t the least intention of asking Mr Acevedo anything.
‘Hey.’ I whirl around as I feel a touch on my arm and find myself looking straight into my best friend’s blue eyes. The urge to shake off Sinclair’s hand washes over me, almost irresistibly.
‘What?’ I snap at him. Sinclair freezes. He looks surprised by my grumpiness. I guess I should say something about his audition. Tell him it was great. Because it was. Amazing, even. But I can’t get a word out.
‘What was all that about?’ he asks slowly.
I force myself to breathe deeply. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Tori, you wanted to audition,’ he says, like I hadn’t known that.Oh, yeah, so I did. Almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me, pal.It’s not like I don’t know I wimped out. And it doesn’t feel great, but it’s too late now. So what can I do?
‘Yeah, I changed my mind.’ I turn away, but Sinclair’s holding me tight. My stomach lurches.
‘Tori,’ he growls. ‘Did he make some dumb remark?’
‘No!’ I say. ‘Do you really think I’m that easily influenced? I can make my own bloody decisions.’
Sinclair takes his hand away. It feels almost like someone pulled the ground out from beneath my feet.
‘But . . . why?’ he asks quietly.
‘I didn’t want to in the end. Doesn’t matter. I don’t have time this year anyway.’
Sinclair doesn’t reply. He spares me the humiliation of further questions. Because that’s a downright lie. I’ve got classes and garden duty and library work, the book blog, Bookstagram, and TikTok, but I don’t play an instrument and I’m not on any of the sports teams. And Sinclair knows that. He knows my timetable off by heart. Like I do his. So he knows I’d have time for the play if it was important enough to me. But it isn’t. End of story.
He opens his mouth and, because attack is the best form of defence, I cut him off. ‘Why did you even audition anyway?’
Sinclair runs a hand awkwardly through his hair. ‘I, er . . .’ His eyes go past me. I wouldn’t have to look to know who he’s staring at. But I do anyway. Why the hell? Seems like I enjoy torturing myself. Eleanor is standing with her friends, apparently very deep in conversation. Expansive hand movements, bright laughter. A Capulet laugh, there’s no doubting that.
‘I see.’ I look back to Sinclair. ‘You were good. Maybe it’ll work out.’
‘You could ask Mr Acevedo if he might still let you—’
‘Exactly which part ofI changed my minddidn’t you understand?’ I interrupt. ‘It’s got nothing to do with Val!’
‘Oh, no?’ Sinclair glares at me. ‘So why do you feel under attack the moment I even mention him?’
‘I don’t feel under attack.’
‘Yes, you do.’
I laugh unhappily. ‘Who do you think you are anyway?’
‘Someone who knows you.’ There’s a pleading tone in Sinclair’s voice now. He takes a step towards me. ‘Shit, Tori, it’s obvious. You’ve changed since you’ve been hanging around with Val and his gang.’
I don’t want to have this conversation. Especially not as there’s a little voice in my head screaming at me that Sinclair’s right. But he has no idea. And what does he even want anyway? He should just be happy that it looks like he’s about to be spending heaps of time with Eleanor. Without me. That’s what he wants, after all.
‘Yeah, surprise, people change,’ I hiss. ‘Don’t have to explain that to you, do I?’
Sinclair narrows his eyes to slits. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘That I’m not the one who randomly turns up at auditions when he’s never acted in his life before.’
Sinclair eyes me sharply. ‘At least I’m not giving up on my dreams because some wanker laughed at them.’
I force myself to keep my voice down. ‘Are you jealous because I’m spending so much time with him?’
He laughs. ‘You know what? You can do one. Seriously, Tori, I’m not the one running around after bawbags, yelling at my friends when they’re worried about me.’
