Maybe his reaction was a sign that I shouldn’t tell him anything. The thought of telling him the truth was crazy anyway. What did I imagine would happen? Why should he even have to know? Whatever happened between us is in the past, and telling him what happened on that terrible night isn’t going to help us get it back.
Worst-case scenario, he’ll pity me, and that’s the last thing I want.
“Why are you so pissed off?” Mae’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. We’re on the way to the theater, just like on our first day. Mr.Pearson has summoned the entire student body, but we still don’t know why. The older students are acting like they have an idea, but they’re keeping their mouths shut.
“I’m not pissed off,” I lie, but Mae just snorts.
“Sure. Of course you aren’t. There’s such an aura of anger around you that I can almost see it. Even your walk sounds pissed off.”
I automatically adjust my steps, realizing she’s right. “Oh, it’s just... Jase is acting like a jerk.” The answer sounds so childish that I’m embarrassed. Jeez, I really need to get a grip.
“Okay, somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Doesn’t surprise me either,” I say, which is a big fat lie.
“I thought the extra practice went well.” She looks at me doubtfully.
“It did, at least the one time that we did it. But afterward, he avoided me, and now he won’t talk to me anymore. It’s really frustrating.” I grimace, thinking about what an idiot I am.
I told Mae about the extra practice, but not that it consisted of Jase holding my hand rather than doing the actual exercises.
We enter the New England Theater and follow the other students into the auditorium.
“Maybe it went too well.”
I lose my train of thought for a moment as the beauty of the theater almost overwhelms me again, the sight of the stage filling me with yearning. Then I register what Mae said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well... I don’t know, maybe he still likes you, and the closeness is too much for him...” She stops and shakes her head witha soft laugh. “Oh, don’t listen to me. I’m a hopeless romantic. I read too much.”
I have to laugh in spite of everything. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the reason.”
“It would be nice if it was, though.” Mae sighs theatrically, then grins at me. “But hey, at least you don’t seem angry anymore.”
I smile wanly. “At least there’s that.”
We sit down in two empty seats next to Katie and Susannah, and I have to stop myself from looking around for Jase. We’d be in our next practice session right now if Pearson hadn’t called us in, and I’m secretly relieved that it was canceled. I have to sort out this mess in my head first.
I’ve been too busy with Jase in the last few weeks. I should concentrate on myself and my own problems. I already have enough on my plate without having Jase in my head all the time.
Our dancing is awful. I still panic when he touches me in class. If I don’t get it under control, I can forget my dream of being on stage, and then everything will be for nothing.
I just want to be normal again, to have a normal life.
I look up as Principal Pearson steps onto the stage, smiling just like he was on our first day almost three weeks ago. Three weeks. It feels like a lot more time has passed since I’ve been here.
“Thanks for coming,” he says, his gaze wandering around the audience, as though he’s counting to see if all eighty students are really here. “Most of you already know that the seniors get a chance to shine on this stage every winter.” He makes a sweeping gesture that includes all of us. If everything goes well, I’ll be on this stage in three years’ time. I want it so much that it hurts.
“Of course, the senior class has a special role to play in thisperformance, but it’s still important for you all to be involved. You’re here to learn and surpass yourselves, yes. But there’s much more to it than that. You’re a team, a family, as long as you’re at this school together. That’s why you will each be given a job. Some of you will help with preparations. An event like this requires not only dancers but also costumes and stage sets. I know, I know,” he says, interrupting himself as a soft murmur is audible in the room. “You’re not here to paint and sew, but you will be part of this performance, and I want you to make an effort. I want you to be proud of what you have achieved when the ballet we’ve chosen for this year is performed. Mr.Conrad will divide you into groups and give you your assignments. Any questions before we continue?”
“Which ballet will it be this year?” a girl in the next row asks.
Mr.Pearson smiles. “The Sleeping Beauty.”
My heart accelerates. I’ve always loved that ballet. It’s been ages since the last time it was performed in Boston. Of course, not counting last year’s performance at my old ballet school, when Charlotte stole the part of Aurora from me.
A quiet murmuring spreads through the room, and you can literally see the excitement leap from one person to the next.
