Mr Acevedo doesn’t bat an eyelid. He doesn’t say a word, for five endless seconds. He just eyes me, as if he wants to give me the chance to take back my words. Or to explain. But I’m not doing either of those things.
‘You can’t play Romeo any longer,’ he repeats slowly. I nod. ‘Why?’
‘I don’t know – it doesn’t feel right. I should never have auditioned. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing.’
‘A spur-of-the-moment thing?’
God, would he ever stop that? It’s not like I don’t know perfectly well how ridiculous this all sounds. We’ve been rehearsing for weeks, the performance is getting closer. And there’s no understudy for Romeo.
‘I know it’s out of the blue. And it’ll probably cause chaos, but I can’t carry on. I’m really sorry.’
‘Charles, I don’t expect you to explain your decision to me. I only want you to know that I’m surprised. And somewhat disappointed. Have you really thought this through?’
I nod, although everything within me is shaking its head.
Thought it through. . . I can count the things I’ve thought through properly lately on the fingers of one hand.
‘You’re letting down the rest of the cast. And letting yourself down. Maybe you did audition on the spur of the moment, but in my eyes, it was the best decision you could have made. You’ve got talent, Charles. I haven’t seen such a refreshing Romeo as you in a long time.’
I lower my head and fight the urge to shut my eyes.
He has to stop this. Right now. I can’t listen to it. Any more than I can think about Eleanor and the rest when they hear I’ve quit. Or that I’m going to miss it. But I can’t do it. This role has caused nothing but trouble and I can’t risk it driving me and Tori apart for ever. It’s only a stupid play. I can try again next year. It’s not so important. Not as important as Tori’s feelings, which I keep hurting, again and again, even if she’d never admit that to me.
‘I know, and I’m really sorry,’ I say. ‘I should have known from the start that I couldn’t do it. And I wouldn’t let you and the others down if I had any choice. But I don’t.’
‘Is this to do with a certain person in the upper sixth?’
I hadn’t expected Mr Acevedo to ask so directly. I slowly shake my head, even though I’m not quite sure whether he means Eleanor or Val. Whatever. Either way, it’s got nothing to do with either of them. ‘No.’
‘Good, because I would find that very depressing. It’s undoubtedly true that not everyone at this school is mature enough to understand that theatre is an art form which requires you to face up to your emotions. It demands more courage to make yourself so vulnerable to an audience than to sit up in the crowd, mocking others.’
‘I know.’ I’d been aware that Mr Acevedo wasn’t too impressed by Valentine Ward and his hangers-on, but I’m surprised he thinks that little of them, and that he’d tell me so. ‘But it’s for personal reasons.’
‘Does that mean I’ll soon be having to do without my assistant director too?’
My blood runs cold. ‘I hope not.’ Because that’s the whole point. If Tori doesn’t have to watch me standing on that stage with Eleanor, then hopefully she’ll be able to get back to enjoying the rehearsals and working on the script.
‘So do I.’ Mr Acevedo leans back. ‘It would be just as painful as losing you. But I’m afraid there’s no changing your mind.’
‘No, I’m afraid not too.’ I gulp. ‘Louis would make a good Romeo. He and Eleanor get on. Ephraim or Tom could be Mercutio.’
‘We’ll see,’ says Mr Acevedo. ‘Is that all?’
I just nod.
‘Good. Or not good, whichever you prefer. I hope you know what you’re doing, my dear Charles.’
I definitely don’t, but with a bit of luck, this will be the first decision in ages that I don’t end up regretting.
Or maybe not. I’m uncertain again as I leave his office and head to my room for study hour.
TORI
Headache. Tired. Dizzy.
My throat hurts, everything hurts. Why is it so freezing cold?
‘Hey, kiddo.’
