‘It was hard,’ I admit. ‘I’m afraid I’ve kind of lost myself over the last few months. Or that’s what it feels like. And the auditions . . . Maybe next year.’
‘That sounds like a plan.’ Mr Acevedo smiles at me. ‘I get the impression you’re rediscovering yourself. Am I right?’
I remember why he’s one of my favourite teachers. He takes a genuine interest in our concerns and picks up on way more than some of his colleagues.
‘Yes, I . . . It really does feel that way,’ I admit. ‘A few things have happened recently, and fallen into place.’
‘I’m very glad to hear that, Victoria.’ Mr Acevedo smiles conspiratorially. We turn simultaneously as the door opens above us. To my surprise, it’s Olive.
‘Am I early?’ she asks uncertainly, ducking back, but Mr Acevedo shakes his head.
‘No, not at all. I’m sure the others will start to trickle in soon. Come down, please.’
Olive does what he says, but only reluctantly. My nerves increase as she approaches. Luckily, the door flies open again. The tense silence is broken by voices as the rest of the cast arrives.
Charlie looks surprised to see Olive, who’s standing a little apart from the group, arms crossed. She joins Grace, who’s just walked in with Gideon.
‘Olive?’ he murmurs in amazement, as he comes to my side.
Before I can reply, Mr Acevedo claps his hands. ‘Good, let’s get started. First of all, I’d like to introduce our new team members. From now on, we will have the help of Olive, Marian and Nathan when it comes to costumes and make-up. I’ll be sending groups of you to join them in the storeroom while the others rehearse. Victoria will go with you to make a note of the costumes. OK?’ He looks from me to the others and I nod, although my stomach knots slightly. With Olive, in the costume store . . . She looks like she can think of better ways to spend her time too.
I force myself to put my negative thoughts to the side as Mr Acevedo sends Olive, Marian, Nathan and me to the dressing rooms. We’re joined by Gideon, Grace and Terry, who aren’t needed on stage just yet.
I’ve never set foot in the backstage area before, where there are mountains of costumes and props. It smells of mothballs and magic as we dig through the clothes. Half an hour later, Benvolio, the Nurse and Tybalt are dressed to our satisfaction, and I snap photos of their outfits on my phone. I’ve barely said two words to Olive, and she’s still trying not to meet my eyes, but I know she’s struggling. She keeps staring into space, seeming out of focus and closed. I don’t get a chance to speak to her, though, because now it’s Charlie and Eleanor’s turn.
Olive’s eyes flit over to us as Charlie takes my hand, and ducks behind the clothes rails to kiss me. I see a smile on her face.
‘Missed you,’ he murmurs into my ear, letting go of me again.
‘It was thirty minutes, Charlie . . .’
‘Exactly, and they were incredibly long minutes,’ he says, looking around. ‘OK, let’s go.’
24
SINCLAIR
‘I don’t know,’ says Eleanor, studying herself in the mirror. She’s wearing a pastel-coloured, floor-length dress. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit much?’
‘It’s perfect for Juliet,’ says Nathan, twitching at Eleanor’s corset slightly.
‘You look amazing,’ Marian assures her, and she’s right, but I can see that Eleanor doesn’t feel comfortable.
‘You don’t like it,’ Olive says shortly. She’s sitting on a stool, next to the dressing room and, until now, she’s been watching in silence. She’s changed out of the pleated skirt she had on earlier and is now wearing her hoodie with black gym leggings. Olive’s always one of the first to get out of her school clothes at the end of classes and into her own things – usually sportswear, which she lives in when she’s not down at the pool.
Eleanor turns to her. ‘No, I do. It’s really elegant.’
‘But you don’t feel right,’ Tori adds quietly.
Eleanor nods slowly. ‘It doesn’t feel like me. It feels like a costume.’
‘It is a costume,’ Nathan points out.
Eleanor shrugs. ‘But it shouldn’t feel like one.’
‘It doesn’t fit with Sinclair’s outfit either,’ Marian admits. ‘If you wore that, he’d have to put the ruffled shirt back on.’
I groan. ‘Please, no. That was so itchy.’
