The air was suddenly very thin. It made sense. Perfect sense. But somehow—
“I don’t believe you,” said AJ, shaking her head. “Backstage, you said—”
“I know what I said,” snapped Eudora. “And I did us both a disservice. You’re perfectly fine. Average. But the truth is, we can’t all be touched by the hand of greatness, and frankly, dear…”
She brushed her fingers across the marble entrance table, examined them, and found—nothing remarkable. AJ couldn’t breathe. The squares of her new path were flickering out.
She dug her heels into the floor, ignoring the smarting in her eyes.
“What about my recommendation?” she asked flatly. If Eudora was going to couch their entire relationship in terms of usefulness, so was she.
Eudora gave her a simpering look. “Oh, that.” She sighed. “If you send the forms up to the house, I’m sure I’ll be able to think of something.”
Without sparing AJ another glance, she sauntered into the drawing room.
“Hortense, come.” Eudora’s voice drifted over her shoulder.
For a moment, AJ stood immobilized. Then, mechanically, she rerouted toward the door.
AJ didn’t remember driving back into Gladstone. All at once, she found herself inside Reel World Video, Storm looking up from the counter with the most serious expression AJ had ever seen on her face. Slowly, she removed her rhinestone glasses.
“Noah quit,” she said.
“When,” said AJ, looking around the store as if she might catch him on his way out.
“He called this morning,” said Storm.
“He called.” AJ could barely say the words. She realized then that she still had hope. Even after speaking to Eudora. Eudora was complex. Eudora might belying.
But this was Storm. And as she looked at AJ with regret in her eyes, AJ felt the last of her hope give way. He’d called Storm.Twice.This wasn’t a mistake—he was not calling AJon purpose.
He meant to ditch her.
The room was suddenly too hot, the walls too close. “Did he say where—”
Storm shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
AJ nodded. Then, she walked into the back, shut herself inside the bathroom, and burst into tears.
That week, an auditionsheet went up for Gladstone High’s fall drama:Uncle Vanya.
AJ was in such a rage when she signed her name to the roster she broke the pen.
She would show them howaverageshe was.
She read the play that night and warmed herself up right before going on. She coulddothis.
But as she waited in the wings with the other Tuesday four-thirties, the darkness tugged at her memory, pulling her back to that night, to Noah, the way he’d kissed her, like she was his dying wish.
We should talk.
The vision blipped and dissolved, and now AJ was hot. Really hot. She was so hot the air wouldn’t go into her lungs. No matter how hard she breathed, she couldn’t get any oxygen.
You’re perfectly fine. Average.
Now her hands were needling, tingling, and she was rubbing them, trying to get them to stop vibrating. Now the other kids were asking if she was okay.
You’re perfectly fine. Average.
