“Little Shop of Horrors,”he replies, his eyes animated with excitement. “Mrs. Henson announced that’s going to be our musical this year, so everyone’s pretty excited about it.”
I’ve never even heard of it, but his enthusiasm is infectious. “That’s awesome.”
We fall into step as we walk inside. Students have already gotten a jump-start on decorating the hallways for Spirit Week. Bright posters plaster nearly every inch of free space stating things likeDEFEAT THE JAGUARSandWILDBOARS WILL WIN.
I turn to Alex. “Are you going to homecoming?”
Alex fumbles to keep a grasp on the toolbox for a moment before it slips through his grasp and onto the linoleum floor with a loudsmack.He quickly picks it up. When he looks back at me, I notice his face is flushed.
Oh. Oh CRAP.
From the uncomfortable look on his face, I can tell he thinks I’m dropping a hint about the dance. Which,no.
Well, not that it would be a bad thing. Going with Alex, I mean.
Wait. Do I want to go to homecoming with Alex?
I can tell he’s searching for a way to try and let me down easy. “Uh—”
I think fast, trying to backtrack. “It’s just that, you know, Raegan was wondering about the head count at the pep rally. She, uh, doesn’t think too many people will show up this year. Which is crazy. Everyone loves homecoming. Well, maybe not everyone. That’s kind of a blanket statement, but… well. Yeah.”
Wow, what a spectacular speech. Where’s my Oscar?
“Oh.” Does Alex look… relieved? He could at least try and hide it. Do I come off like I’d bethatterrible of a date? “Yeah, sure. Are you performing?”
“With the Wavettes?” As soon as I ask it, I realize it’s a silly question.No, Kira, he’s wondering if you’ll be performing WITH THE CIRCUS.
Alex laughs. “Yeah.”
I nod. “Mandatory.”
His brown eyes linger on mine a moment. “Okay, sure. Count me in.”
“Cool.” I’m having trouble returning eye contact. “Raegan will be happy.”
Alex gives me a strange look, like that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.
“Well, I better get those nails so we can finish the replica of Audrey II.”
“Aubrey who?”
He grins. “You were never a fan of musicals.”
I lift my hands in the air. “Guilty.”
“It’s the talking monster plant inLittle Shop,” he explains. “I’m in charge of creating it, actually.” His face lights up. “I can show you once it’s finished, if you want. Mrs. Henson thinks we can spruce it up even more and use it in the show.”
I nod, and mean it when I say, “I’d love to.”
He lifts the toolbox, glancing down toward the theater wing. “I’d better—”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling my face flush. God, what is wrong with me? “I’ll see you later.”
He smiles, then heads to the woodshop classroom. My heart pounds as I make my way toward the vending machine. I put my dollar in and retrieve a water bottle, but the thumping doesn’t cease. I don’t even realize Whitney’s pushing through the double doors until I nearly run into her.
“Whoa.” She stares at me for a moment. “Uh, you okay?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly.
