Flip stands and whistles with his fingers. His proud smile makes my silly heart clench. He probably thinks of me like a little sister. Embarrassment hits when I’m in the wings. I can’t enjoy the high of our performance because I’m a giant bag ofwhat-did-I-do?all over again. For the past week, I’ve buried that conversation under practice and coursework. But he’s here tonight and I can’t hide from the sting of his rejection. I don’t know how I’ll recover from the mortification: the look on his face, his disbelief, his definitive no, all play on an endless loop in my head. As if Flip Madden would ever want more from me than friendship.
And yet, he showed up for me. I don’t even know what to do with that.
“The Terror are in the audience!” Charles grabs my shoulders. He has a thing for hockey players. I get it, truly. “What I wouldn’t give to be in the middle of a Madden and Stiles sandwich.”
“Stiles is married,” I remind him. I avoid commenting on Flip, because I don’t trust my voice.
“Yeah, but in my fantasy world he’s not, and they’re both into me.” Charles’s grin is downright lascivious.
Flip’s previous reputation isn’t a secret. For a while his exploits were splashed across the internet. But it’s been years since Flip has lived up to his fuckboy status.
“I would take Quinn Romero home any night of the week,” Arya adds dreamily.
“He does have that strong, silent type vibe,” I agree. Of allthe guys, he tends to be the quietest. Also, I’m happy to indulge infatuations that don’t involve Flip.
“And those freckles.” Arya sighs.
This incites an entire whispered conversation about which Terror player everyone would like to take home for a night while we touch up our makeup for the post-performance reception. We’re still in full costume as we traipse out to greet our families and friends. I’m reeling with nerves. Will Flip still be here? Did he leave as soon as the show ended?
My dad is the first to find me. He’s beaming with pride, and that settles my nerves a fraction. “What an incredible performance! You were wonderful up there.” He pulls me in for a hug. “I’m so glad I could be here for this.” He presents me with an excessively large bouquet of roses.
I bring them to my nose and inhale their soft scent. “Thanks, Dad. These are beautiful.”
He tucks a hand in his pocket, his smile sheepish. “Your mom picked them out.”
“I just suggested the color, the rest was all your dad. You were perfect as usual.” Mom’s smile wavers a little, like she’s on the edge of emotion. “I’m so proud of you. You’ve come so far.”
“Thank you for always supporting me and being my cheerleader.”
“Always and forever, sweetie.” She squeezes me tightly, and I return the embrace.
My mom and I have always been close. With my dad on the road three quarters of the year, it was often her and me looking after Ties and Fenna.
Eventually Mom releases me and I look to my siblings. Ties is on his phone, and Fenna is picking at a loose thread on her cuff.
I tap my sister on the shoulder, and she pulls out one of her noise-cancelling earplugs. She’s sensitive to noise in large crowds. “Do you have your scissors in your purse?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you get them out and I’ll fix that?” I nod to the loose thread. Usually, Mom would be on top of that.
“Okay.” She retrieves them for me. Her face brightens as I trim the thread and pass the scissors back.
“Thanks.” Fenna has some sensory issues, and that thread has likely been frustrating her for as long as it’s been loose.
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice that, honey,” Mom apologizes.
“It’s okay. Tallulah fixed it for me.” She turns to me. “I liked the song choice.”
I grin. “I thought you might.”
Fenna’s in grade nine, plays the cello, and basically lives and breathes classical music.
Ties, who is in his final year of high school, drags his eyes away from his phone long enough to give me a thumbs-up. “Good job.” He has a robotics competition next week and being here is probably cutting into his preparation time.
“Once this is all wrapped up, we’ll go for dinner.” Dad glances at Mom before refocusing on me. “Does that sound good?”
“That sounds amazing.” It’s rare enough that my dad can make it to a performance, let alone stick around to celebrate after. I haven’t seen much of him over the past few months because of school and his schedule, so I can’t pass up the opportunity.
