Love Is in the Air

by A. Destiny

  She pauses to let what she said sink in.

  “Lunch is in twenty minutes. The casting announcements will be posted near the end, so I’d recommend you try to make it. And by that, I mean you’re obligated to go to lunch.” She winks. “Can’t have you skipping out on meals—you need your strength.”

  “What’s the point?” I ask, once again failing at the whole not-whining thing. “It’s not like I made it into flying trapeze.”

  “You never know,” she says. “And there are plenty more skills to learn under the big top. Don’t discount them all just yet.”

  She pushes herself from the desk.

  “I’ll let you be. No doubt Riley will be back here soon to check on you. Do you need anything before I go?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay then. Well, I’ll see you at lunch.”

  Then she opens the door and steps out into the hall, leaving me with the empty room and the fragile hope that maybe the door hasn’t closed on my circus career just yet.

  • • •

  Leena was right about one thing. Not even two minutes have passed when Riley comes in, opening the door tentatively like it might set off a bomb. I wonder if she passed Leena on her way here.

  “Jennifer?” she asks, peering around the edge of the door.

  “Yeah,” I say, and she walks in. A small part of me is ashamed that Riley’s treating this like she’s intruding on my space when it’s her room as well. For some reason, it also makes me a little upset; I don’t want her to think she has to baby me. “It’s okay, I’m not going to snap at you.”

  “Oh, I don’t care about that,” Riley says, sitting down on her bed. “I just didn’t know if you were still throwing up all over the place.”

  “I didn’t throw up at all,” I say. I wanted to, but I didn’t.

  “Yeah, I figured as much. Megan was telling everyone you got really sick on the trapeze. And I mean, really sick, like projectile-vomiting-across-the-field sick.”

  I sit up a little straighter and push the blankets off me. Of course Megan was spreading rumors.

  “She wasn’t even there,” I say.

  “Don’t worry, no one else believes her either.”

  “Why would she say that?” I ask, even though I know precisely why. For some reason, that girl has it in for me.

  Riley shrugs. “Jealousy is an ugly monster,” she says. Then she looks at me, a little more serious. “How are you doing, anyway? Do you need anything?”

  I shake my head. “I just froze. I’m not sick or anything.”

  She nods. “Well, the offer still stands. Even if it means you need me to kick Megan’s blond butt.”

  I laugh, which admittedly feels strange; I didn’t think I’d have the capacity for that anymore today.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “That’s what friends are for—petty revenge.” She smiles, hops off her bed, and tries to pull me off mine. “Anyway, I’m glad you don’t need anything, because I actually just came here to drag you off to lunch.”

  I put up resistance, but that eyebrow raise of her speaks volumes.

  “Never get in between me and my food,” she says gravely. “Sandy learned that one the hard way. At least, that’s how I explained those hickeys to his parents.” To accentuate the point, she leans over and nibbles on my arm, making loud gnawing sounds.

  I giggle and let her pull me off the bed.

  “Okay, okay! I give. I need that arm.”

  Riley stands straighter and smiles, then takes me by the arm and skips me out the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Okay, I hadn’t honestly expected the entire lunchroom to stop talking and stare at me when I walked in, but the nagging fear was there as Riley half guided, half dragged me toward the cafeteria. So the fact that I’m able to not only walk in, but get my food and sit at a table without anyone so much as looking at me twice, kind of blows my mind. If this was high school, there’d be at least one group of girls snickering behind my back.

  That said, I don’t even bother trying to find Megan and her sisters in the crowd—I’ve no doubt that they’re definitely talking about me. Maybe they’re still trying to spread the rumor that I threw up all over the trapeze rig. Having Riley at my side honestly makes me not care so much.

  Riley and I sit next to Tyler and a couple of his acro buddies. They all give the cursory hello and then go back to chatting about the tricks they nailed or screwed up during auditions.

  “I heard what happened,” Tyler says to me, keeping his voice low. “You okay?”

  “I didn’t throw up.”

  “Shame,” he says with a wicked smile. “It would have made such a good story. So what happened? Vertigo?”

  I nod. “Turns out I don’t like heights.”

  “Join the club,” Riley says around a mouthful of her burger.

  “You are just the portrait of a lady,” Tyler says, staring at her.

  She grins and lets a few crumbs drop from her mouth. “Yep!” she says happily.

  Tyler shakes his head in mock disgust, then turns back to me. “Well, don’t worry about it. So long as you stay around this one, you’ll always appear to have more social grace.”

  “I’m going to pretend I don’t know what that means,” Riley says.

  “Please do. And chew with your mouth closed.”

  In response, Riley makes her gnawing noise again and buries her face in the burger.

  I laugh, then look across the cafeteria and spot Branden. My humor dies in my chest; he’s sitting beside Megan, her other sisters nearly blocking him from my view.

  “What is she doing with him?” I say, not meaning to utter it aloud.

  Tyler follows my stare.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “She doesn’t stand a chance.”

  But there’s a sick feeling in my gut as I watch them talk. He laughs at something she says, and I don’t miss the way her hand brushes against his as she reaches for a napkin. Suddenly all I can think of is Josh, the guy who stood me up, and the way he went for a cheerleader not a week after tormenting me.

  “You’re totally not listening, are you?” Tyler asks, nudging me with his elbow.

  I jerk and look back at him. Was I really just staring at Branden like a lovesick idiot?

  “Sorry,” I say. Because he’s right, I didn’t hear anything.

  He sighs.

  “I said, how was juggling? ” He asks the question unnecessarily slowly.

  “Good,” I respond.

  “Really good,” Riley says, wiping her mouth with a handful of napkins. “Jennifer’s picking it up real quick. I spoke with Jim after the audition, and I think we’re going to try to set up a partner ­routine.”

  I look at her, surprised.

  “What?” she asks. “I told him I wanted to work with you, and he agreed. So yeah. You’re definitely in.” She wraps an arm across my shoulders. “And you’re stuck with meeee!” she sings.

  “I feel so sorry for you,” Tyler says.

  “Could be worse,” I say. “I could be stuck in contortion with those three.”

  Riley snorts with laughter.

  “That would definitely be a worse fate.”

  “What about you?” I ask Tyler. “What did you audition for?”

  “Acro and rope,” he says. “Though I spoke with one of the coaches who works as a hand balancer professionally. I guess they don’t technically teach it during the camp, but he offered to train me on the side. Your boy Branden was there as well, auditioning for Cyr wheel. He’s good. Really good. Except at backflips—kid nearly broke his own nose. Too bad he plays for your team.”

  “I thought you had your eyes set on the acro boy. Kevin?” Riley asks.

  “Oh, I do,” he says. He grins at Kevin, who catches Tyler’s gaze, returns it, then blushes and goes back to talking with a ­couple of the girls from my hall. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t admire beauty. And Branden is pretty beautiful.”

  I sigh without meaning t
o and catch myself staring again at Branden, who’s still sitting with Megan and her sisters. Branden, who looks so much more at home surrounded by that much talent and beauty. Tyler says Megan doesn’t stand a chance, but I think he’s just trying to make me feel better. Branden’s cut out to be with someone immensely talented. I’ve already proven that’s not me.

  After that realization, it’s practically impossible to find my appetite. I pick at the fries on my plate and listen to everyone else talking around me. But I’m already drifting. They’re already moving faster than I ever will.

  • • •

  Near the end of lunch, right after they bring out a tray of what I thought were brownies but are actually chocolate-chip granola bars—a terrible misconception, albeit still tasty—Olga nonchalantly walks over to a bulletin board on the wall and pins up three sheets of paper. The casting announcements. She’s barely taken a step to the side before half the camp is jumping from their chairs to see them. I’m not among the first, that’s for sure; I already know I’m not getting into flying trapeze.

  Still, when I do make it up there, I’m a little disappointed to see that I was right. Riley stands at my side and congratulates me on getting into juggling with her, even though that was kind of a giveaway. I feel a little sick to see I was the only one who auditioned who didn’t get into flying trapeze. Branden’s name is at the top, a reminder that he and I are on completely different social levels. And seeing as how we won’t have any training together, I might as well get used to that fact now.

  “Such a shame,” comes a voice beside me. The drawl makes my skin crawl. “Here I was hoping we’d get to see more of your amazing aerial acrobatics.”

  I glare at Megan, who is staring at the announcements with a contented, malicious smile on her face, like a cat who just ate a large and tasty mouse. Every part of me wishes I had some sort of snappy comeback, but I’ve got nothing. Not that I have any time to respond. She looks at me, her grin widening.

  “It’s probably for the best. Can’t have you thinking you’re good enough for Branden, can we?” Then she winks and spins on her heel, walking off toward the exit, where the rest of her sisters are waiting.

  “I really, really hate her,” I mutter.

  “I think the feeling’s mutual,” Riley replies. I nearly jump—I’d forgotten she was even standing there. Just shows how much Megan gets to me, seeing as Riley’s hair makes her stand out in a crowd. I look around the cafeteria but Branden’s already gone, probably off to afternoon practice. “Come on,” Riley says, once more taking me by the arm. “Juggling will help. And if you’re really frustrated, we can just start throwing clubs at each other. That’s always helped me de-stress.”

  Chapter Ten

  The rest of the afternoon passes in a fairly contented blur. It’s hard to focus on not getting into flying trapeze when there are juggling pins being hurled at my head. Riley’s decided she and I are going to do a partner act for the final show. But she wasn’t happy with just a normal ground routine, no. She wanted to add “an extra level of danger.”

  Which, to her, meant doing the entire routine on top of rolling globes, which are exactly what they sound like—giant plastic balls I’m somehow supposed to balance on while throwing pins. Our coaches taught us how to stand and even walk a little bit, and although I only fell off a few times, I have a feeling it’s going to be nearly impossible to combine it with juggling. Still, Riley is relentless with her optimism, and when the first session of practice is over four hours later, she’s already discussing our music choices as we wander over to dinner.

  We pass by one of the smaller circus tents—the blue-and-gold one—and Tyler steps out with a couple of other acro kids. He’s covered in sweat and chatting animatedly with Kevin. When they walk, the backs of their hands brush.

  “Hey, boys,” Riley says, jumping over to walk beside Tyler. “How was practice?”

  “Awesome,” Tyler says. “I made it to nine chairs.”

  “It was really impressive,” Kevin replies.

  The four of us head to the dining room together. We don’t talk about TV shows or video games, not like my other friends. No, the entire way there we talk about practice and how sore we are and what we’re envisioning our routines will look like. Even though I’ve only been doing this a day, it’s easy to get swept up in it, to start dreaming of my life under the circus lights—albeit in a different act. I won’t lie, though—even with Riley’s excitement, I’m still a little ashamed I won’t be making my big debut on the trapeze rig. It’s one of those things I try not to think about, otherwise I just get sad. So I let myself fall into Riley’s dream of a fantastic partner act and try to mimic her enthusiasm.

  When we get to dinner, however, the exhilaration of practice quickly plummets. Branden is standing in line for food, and Megan’s right beside him, one arm looped through his like Riley’s doing with me. Only their pose is definitely not in friendship. Megan is leaning into Branden and giggling about something that’s probably stupid. He doesn’t really react, but he isn’t pushing her away, either.

  I stop dead. I can’t help it.

  “Crap,” Riley says, catching my glance. She takes a steady breath and looks at me. “Okay, maybe he was playing you.”

  “What a jerk,” Tyler says.

  “What’s going on?” Kevin asks, looking between us and Branden. I shake my head.

  “It’s nothing,” I respond. “It was never anything.”

  Then, before anyone can ask if I’m okay for the hundredth time today, I step forward into the dinner line and do my best to firmly push Branden and his new girlfriend from my mind.

  • • •

  Tyler and Kevin sit with us at dinner, and my friends fill Kevin in on everything that’s happened—or, in this case, that hasn’t happened—between Branden and me. For my part, I sit facing away from Megan and her new catch and try to ignore everything but my quinoa bake and sautéed greens. Branden is currently the last topic I want to be discussing. Mainly because I want to run over there and scream in his face for toying with me like that.

  “What do you think the game will be tonight?” Tyler asks.

  “No clue,” I say. “But I’m hoping it doesn’t involve dress-up.”

  “Oh, come on, you looked so cute as a fairy.”

  “I don’t care what it is so long as we don’t have to run,” Kevin admits. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ve worked out this much all year.”

  “This is just day one,” Tyler says. “If you think it hurts now . . .”

  “Easy for you to say,” Kevin retorts. “You were doing handstands all afternoon. So I’m going to cross my fingers for dodgeball.”

  “Or tennis,” Riley adds.

  “Or arm wrestling,” I say.

  “I hate you,” Tyler says. “All of you. But especially the redhead.”

  “Hey!” Riley and Kevin say at the exact same time. We all burst into laughter.

  • • •

  It turns out that none of our guesses are correct. Thankfully, the night’s game doesn’t actually involve running, either, so Kevin did partially get his wish. About half an hour after dinner, we all gather back in the gymnasium for the night’s game. The lights are low and the radio’s playing again. We all settle along the same wall; there are tables set up in the opposite corner, each one covered in a blanket hiding a lumpy mass. A few counselors are wandering back and forth over there, talking to themselves and holding up the blankets to one another so only they can see what’s underneath.

  “What do you think it is?” Riley whispers.

  “I almost don’t want to know,” I reply.

  The lights go up the moment Olga walks in. Once she appears, everyone goes quiet—we’re all waiting for her announcement.

  “Good evening, campers!” she says, smiling warmly. “I hope you all had a great first day. I’ve spoken with the coaches, and they agree that each and every one of you has brought a great deal of talent on board. We’re already ver
y excited for the final show, and we know you are as well! But we don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves, now do we?

  “Tonight’s game is to help us prepare for the show. You’re already doing so much to enhance your skills, so now we want to focus on a very important aspect of circus: stage presence. It’s not enough to be good at an act. You have to be able to perform. And often, that involves a lot of improvisation and a strong rapport with your fellow cast members. Obviously, we can’t just teach you to do this—you have to practice and discover the spark within yourself. To that end, allow us to introduce tonight’s game: Improv Superstar!”

  Epic music blares through the speakers. When it’s done, Olga continues.

  “You will be broken up into four teams at random. Each of you will then pick a table. Under each sheet is a set of props that you will need to integrate into a series of improv skits. Your fellow troupers and coaches will be the judges. And as usual, the winning team will get a special surprise.”

  “It better not be more granola,” Tyler whispers in my ear.

  One of the coaches comes around the group with a top hat then, and we each draw out a slip of paper with a letter on it. I pull an A, and am more than a little disappointed to realize that I’m the only one in our group to get it. Riley and Kevin both got B, and Tyler pulled C.

  There’s no time to get sentimental; we break up into our teams almost immediately. I head over to the juggling coach, Jim, who holds a large sign with A over his head. And then I get my next unfortunate surprise that night: Megan is on my team. At least she doesn’t look happy about this either.