Quinn laughed again. He glanced down at Greg and ruffled his hair like he was a puppy. “Keep an eye on her,” he grinned. “You’ve got your work cut out for you with that one.”
“Quinn,” Courtney waved. “Come sit next to me.”
Quinn stuck his lip out in an exaggerated pout and flopped down a row over from me, as far away from Courtney as it was possible to be. He started chatting up a girl named Erika, who Greg had informed me was the daughter of a shipping magnate who Quinn had slept with last year.
Greg looked at me with a mixture of awe and fear. “How’d you do that?” he asked, gripping the edge of his desk as if it was the only thing preventing him from melting into a puddle on the floor.
“At my old school, two kids from rival gangs got into a knife fight in the cafeteria, and one stabbed out the other’seye.” I hid my trembling hands under my desk so Greg couldn’t deduce the lie that was about to escape my lips. “I’m not afraid of Quinn Delacorte.”
* * *
Thanks to a pop quiz in English Lit – which I aced. English was easy – I was up 15 merit points by the end of the day. I stopped in the atrium on the way to meet Greg for practice and studied the charts. I needed to see who to beat.
Loretta had the highest score of all the scholarship students, but Greg and Andre were only 7 and 11 points behind her. I’d started at -13 because of my hair infraction and talking back to Headmistress West. I was now at 2. Surprisingly, I wasn’t at the bottom of the table. Several rich prep kids were firmly in the minuses, including Quinn Delacorte.
Interesting.
At practice, Greg and I firmed up the musical arrangement of our medley, and he grew confident enough to add a bit of choreography. As we reached the crescendo, I kicked out the piano stool and stood up to belt out the final line.
“Yes, honey!” Greg threw his arms around me when we were done. “That was marvelous, and I’m not just saying that. We’re going to knock their socks off.”
I wanted to knock off more than just socks. I wanted to knock Trey Bloomberg and Courtney Hayes off their pedestals. Winning the audition was only the first step.
The next day, Greg and I rushed to the auditorium as soon as the bell rang, not even stopping to put our books in our lockers. We were the first to arrive, surprising Dr. Halsey as she set up the room.
“You two certainly are enthusiastic,” she smiled as we scribbled our names down on the audition list. “I’m excited to hear you perform. We don’t often have scholarship students audition. Many of our students have come from years of training in top-rated music and drama programs, but don’t let that intimidate you. Today is all about having fun.”
Right. Yes. Not intimidated at all. Thanks for that, lady.
Greg and I took seats in the back of the auditorium and watched the other kids file in. Courtney sprawled out in the front row as though she was Cleopatra reclining on her sofa while her courtiers brought her water and snacks. Trey and Ayaz sauntered in with some of the guys from Trey’s lacrosse team and took seats behind Courtney. As soon as Tillie saw Trey, she rushed to his seat and draped herself over him. They started making out, Trey’s hands sliding under her blazer, his thumb visibly brushing over her breast. He was stroking her nipple, right here in the auditorium where everyone could see. It was gross, but an ache rose up between my legs, and I pressed my knees together.
I’m not jealous. I’m not going to waste any of my precious pre-show energy wishing it was me Trey Bloomberg was touching.
Tillie stopped devouring Trey’s lips only long enough to glare up at me in triumph.
You don’t have anything to worry about,I wanted to yell at her.I have no interest in Trey Bloomberg whatsoever.And yet, my eyes kept trailing over to where he and Ayaz sat. Tillie straddled Trey’s chair, grinding her hips against his.
It’s like a sex show.
Greg must have noticed too. He elbowed me in the ribs. “Keep your eyes on the prize, honey. You’re trying to dethrone a King, not bed him.”
I snapped my head back, heat flaring in my cheeks. “That’s not—”
Dr. Halsey clapped her hands. “All right, if I could have your attention. Ms. Fairchild, if you could stop dry-humping Mr. Bloomberg for a moment, we can get these auditions started. Each person will perform one spoken piece and one song. You may perform in pairs or groups, but you’ll be judged separately. At the end of the audition, I’ll announce the lead roles, with supporting cast and backstage crew to be announced on a sheet outside my office tomorrow.”
“I’m first.” Courtney leaped to her feet and stalked on stage.
“Of course you are,” I muttered. Greg squeezed my hand.
Courtney performed Lady Macbeth’s famous speech, dropping dramatically to one knee as she delivered her final line. Her voice was clear, musical, and full of power and emotion. She was good, dammit.
Then she sat down behind the piano and sung. She’d chosen a Taylor Swift song, and she performed beautifully, her angelic voice soaring the full height of the auditorium. The way she batted her eyelashes and lifted her hands as she played made her look like she belonged on stage.
My heart leaped in my chest. “She’s good,” I whispered to Greg.
“Duh. Of course she is, honey. She’s been acting in commercials since she was three. But you’re better.”
After Courtney took her bow, Trey and Ayaz got up with three other guys and performed a scene fromBugsy Malone. They’d even nabbed some bowler hats to use as props. Their accents had everyone in hysterics. Everyone except me.
