by A. Destiny
“I think I’d rather be on Planet Zombie,” I mutter. “Or better yet, I know someone who should go in my place.”
She sighs and wraps an arm around me. “Let me guess: Megan?”
I nod.
“You can’t let her get to you!” she says. “She’s just a bully. A contortionist bully at that, which everyone in the circus world knows is a hundred percent worse than your normal school bully.”
“She said Branden thinks of me as a little sister.” This just makes her hug me tighter.
“And how would she know?” she asks.
“She heard him say it. Also, apparently they dated.”
Riley shakes her head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and it is not like a sister, trust me. Megan’s just jealous because Branden’s spending all this time with you. Speaking of, we’ve got talent show practice right after dinner, so wipe that frown off your face before he sees it and thinks you’re unhappy about performing with him.”
I do my best to smile. It’s one of those smiles that looks like a grimace, but it does make Riley laugh and murmur, “Hopeless” before opening the door for me. I’ll take that as a slight victory.
• • •
“Okay, plan of attack,” Tyler says the moment I’m sitting down. For a moment I can’t tell if he has a plan or is asking for one, and it’s not until after he’s been silent for a few moments that I realize it’s the latter.
“Can’t a girl eat her dinner first?” I ask. It’s lasagna tonight, and the smell of garlic bread has my stomach growling like an untamed lion.
“A girl could,” Tyler says. “But then again, a girl could also get a big piece of pasta flung at her face if she leaves her boy hanging.”
I snort and take a big, slow bite of lasagna, making sure not to break eye contact with Tyler while I chew.
“So ladylike,” he says. Of course, that’s also the moment when Kevin sits down next to him. Kevin’s red hair is an even darker shade of orange—clearly, he just got out of the shower. The overpowering scent of body wash only confirms it. He nestles against Tyler’s shoulder for a second before picking up his fork.
“Everyone excited for tonight?” he asks, as though he’s oblivious to the interplay between Tyler and me.
“Totally,” Riley says.
“Definitely,” says Branden, who sits down beside me as he says it. I swallow my lasagna and nearly choke. He pats me on the back. “Careful. We can’t have you choking before you’re even onstage.”
“Thanks,” I manage. Once I get the coughing under control I look at him, looking at me. Is that how someone would look at a sister? I don’t think it is, but then again, I don’t have a sibling, so I guess I wouldn’t know. And how the heck do I ask him if he actually dated Megan without it being awkward? “We were just deciding the plan of attack for practice.”
“Well, first we need to settle on a song,” Tyler says.
“We did,” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Too slow,” Riley says. “Executive decision. You have backup dancers. So you’ll need to sing something they can actually dance to.”
I open my mouth to argue, but before I can get a word out, the guys are throwing different ideas back and forth. Not even a minute later they’ve settled on some pop song that’s been taking over the radio all school year. The only input I get is when they ask if I know the song. Which I do. Luckily, it’s in my range and luckily, I’ve sung it a few times. In my room. When no one was listening.
And just like that, it’s been decided. We have a song.
That’s when things go from bad to hilarious.
Because after the song’s been decided, Tyler stands and pulls Kevin and Branden to their feet. At first I think it’s to get more food, since they’ve already cleared their plates. It’s not. It’s to figure out choreography. It’s been a crazy few days, and the moment Tyler starts swaying his hips and doing complicated arm gestures—much to the bewilderment of Kevin and Branden, who quickly stop trying to follow along—I burst into laughter. Riley snorts so hard she nearly coughs up her garlic bread.
“Stop, stop!” she chuckles. Tyler drops his arms with a scowl on his face. Branden and Kevin look at her like she’s a saint. “Everyone’s looking. We can’t give away our secrets yet!”
“Fine, then,” Tyler grunts. “I’m getting more food. I’ll save the rest of my awesome for practice.”
Tyler stalks off to the cafeteria line for more lasagna, and Kevin and Branden sit back down. Branden settles so close to me our arms are practically brushing. I glance over at him, to his spiked brown hair and gorgeous eyes, and in that moment I really wish our arms were brushing.
Of course, that’s when Megan’s treacherous voice floats through my mind: He looks at you like you’re his little sister. I slouch away from him. Even when she’s not there, Megan’s good at ruining the moment.
Riley leaves a few jokes later, and Kevin’s not far behind. Riley makes sure to pat me on the shoulder before stepping away, pointedly reminding me that practice is in thirty minutes and I should definitely not be late. At first I’m not entirely certain why she feels the need to tell me that—I’m kind of the lead singer, so it’s my reputation on the line. Then Branden sighs heavily, and I realize it’s just us at the table. Just the two of us. And Megan’s nowhere to be seen.
“So,” he says. There’s an awkward tension in the air the moment I realize we’re alone, like suddenly everyone in the cafeteria is watching us, listening in on every word we say.
“So,” I respond, and poke at my lasagna.
“What were you and Megan talking about?”
Just hearing her name is enough to send a small jolt of fear and dread through me. I glance around; she’s nowhere to be seen. It’s almost like I’m worried that saying her name will magically summon her, like an evil genie or Bloody Mary.
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking back to him. He actually looks a little concerned. Wait, why is he looking concerned? Is there something she and I shouldn’t be talking about?
“I saw you earlier, out at the practice field. You two were talking about something. Either that or you were just creepily watching us practice in silence.”
I shrug.
“We don’t really talk. I think she’s set on us being mortal enemies.”
“Ah, so threats then?”
I don’t want to get into this, mainly because it would mean admitting that I have feelings for him. And that Megan’s trying to get in the way.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “I can handle it. She was just being herself. Anyway, how was the rest of practice?”
“You’re avoiding the question, but it was good.”
“Are you doing an act for the final show?” I push some lasagna around on my plate—not because I’m embarrassed to eat around him, but because the mention of Megan instantly made my appetite go away.
“Sort of. It’s kind of hard to do an individual act on flying trap, so we’re doing one big group number. Should be a lot of fun.”
“I bet,” I say. I can’t help but let my voice get a little disappointed.
“How about you? Riley says you two are working on a killer partner routine.”
“That’s the goal,” I say. Not as impressive as flying with you, but I suppose it could be worse.
He goes silent for a moment. I wonder if I should ask him about going to camp with Megan, but I honestly don’t want to say her name aloud any more than I absolutely have to. I don’t want him to confirm that they dated, or that they still kind of are dating, or that he’s not sure of anything right now. Him being uncertain might actually be worse than him just playing me. I’ve read enough books about love triangles to realize that being the “other” interest always puts you in the friend zone.
“So what do you do when you’re not here?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, when you’re just normal girl Jennifer and not circus star Jennifer. Do you play sports? Head t
he chess team? Solve local crime?”
I giggle in spite of myself, trying to pull my thoughts up from the deep. He’s grinning at me. The smile’s stupidly infectious.
“Something like that. Why?”
“I’m just trying to get to know you,” he says. He nudges me. “After all, this camp isn’t going to last forever. I’m trying to see if we’ll still be in touch when it’s done.”
I glance over at him. Does that mean what I think it means?
“Well,” I begin, looking back to my plate, “I’m in band. I’m not that good, but I just started, so I suppose that’s okay. Mostly, I just do homework and game with my friends.” I chuckle. “Totally cool, right?”
“Totally,” he says. “I mean, what else are you supposed to be doing with your time? This is suburbia. It’s not like you’re gonna be driving around in a limo every day. Unless you have a limo. Then you should totally be driving around in it. Do you have a limo?”
I laugh.
“No limo, sorry.”
“That’s okay. You’d probably be a snob then, and I don’t usually like snobs.”
My treacherous heart does a little dance. Did he just say he likes me? And if that’s true, why the heck did you date Megan!? Or was that just a lie? I wouldn’t put it past her, but I hate how easily she’s snaked into my brain. I want to trust Branden, really. But after what Josh did, it’s hard. Much easier to keep it light and simple and pretend we’re just friends.
“What about you?” I ask. “What do you do when you’re not defying death?”
“Well, when you put it like that . . . I dunno, I’m an average guy. I’m on the swim team, play video games with friends, try to finish my homework last minute. Besides the trapeze stuff, I’m not very exciting.”
“Sounds pretty cool to me.”
“Pretty cool. Great, she thinks I’m pretty cool.”
I nudge him and giggle.
“You know what I mean,” I say.
“Hah, yeah. And you’re pretty cool too.”
I bite my lip. Suddenly he feels really close. Like, if this was a movie, this is where he’d push aside our dinner trays and lean over and kiss me. And suddenly that’s all I can think about—him leaning over to kiss me. It’s like everyone else in the cafeteria has disappeared and it’s just him and me. So much for thinking of us just being friends; right now, I want us to be something more. Then something crashes and a bunch of kids laugh, and the moment is over before it even really began. He clears his throat and leans back—I hadn’t even noticed he was leaning toward me; was he really about to kiss me?
“Anyway,” he says, looking at his wrist—where he conveniently is missing a watch. “I better get going. Gotta call my parents before practice. And change. Apparently we’re wearing short shorts. So that’s exciting. Remind me never to let Tyler plan costumes again. He and Riley together are a powerhouse of embarrassingly bad ideas.”
“Tell me about it,” I say. “I’m just hoping it all pulls together by tonight.”
Branden smiles. “I’m sure it will. If nothing else, your singing will blow them all away.”
Then he stands and walks away, leaving me to sit there and wonder if that really was my first time honestly flirting with a boy.
Well, with a boy who flirted back.
Chapter Fifteen
I don’t stick around too long after Branden leaves. After heading back to my room to send my parents a quick update text, I leave and go straight to the practice area—just a small patch of grass behind the school where I’m pretty certain the college smokers go, given all the cigarette butts on the ground. I’m met there by Riley, who’s doing her usual juggling by herself. This time she’s not actually juggling, though apparently it’s still considered “object manipulation.” She’s playing with a diabolo, which is basically a spinning top she wraps and tosses from a string held between two sticks.
“Hey, slacker!” she calls when she sees me. She flings the diabolo high in the air, spins twice, and catches it on the string right before it hits the ground. “Wanna try?”
“That looks way too complicated,” I say. “Besides, I’m trying to keep my focus on not choking or losing my voice.”
“Yeah, that would bite,” she says. She sets the diabolo down, carefully folding the string around the sticks. “Can that even happen?”
“No clue. But I don’t want to find out.”
“What I do want to find out is how the boys look,” she says with a grin. “I had a feeling they’d all have short shorts, what with them being athletes and all.”
I shake my head. As much as I can’t believe I’m about to say it, I can’t actually get excited over the thought of Branden as a backup dancer; I’m too worried about making a fool of myself in front of the entire troupe. Again. I’m pretty certain it’s impossible to lose your voice in less than an hour, but it would be just my luck.
Thankfully, I’m not given much time to worry; the boys all arrive at the same time, chatting with one another as they make their way across the lawn. They’re each in lime-green T-shirts and bright-white shorts and sunglasses. I’m pleased to see that Branden’s even wearing the brown vest from the costume challenge—must mean he owns it, which is cool. He has a good fashion sense.
“How the heck did you guys have all that?” I ask. “I mean, you match pretty perfectly.”
Tyler shrugs. “Never question a circus boy’s wardrobe. We gotta come prepared for anything.”
“That and we talked to our RA about pulling from the costume shop,” Branden says.
Tyler slugs him on the shoulder. “Stop giving away our trade secrets!”
“Break it up, ladies,” Riley says with a laugh. “We’ve got work to do. Tyler, are you ready with the moves?”
Tyler nods, suddenly completely serious. Kevin smirks beside him—clearly, Tyler’s the only one who’s really getting into this. I wish I had half his enthusiasm. Or Riley’s.
“Okay!” she says, a huge grin on her face. “Tyler, I’m leaving you in charge. I’ve got the music whenever you want it. And Jennifer?” she asks, turning to me.
“Yeah?”
“Try to keep up. This boy’s choreo is killer.”
• • •
Practice goes way too fast.
Not that that keeps me from feeling completely overwhelmed in the little time we have. I’m sweating after only a few minutes of trying to follow Tyler’s complex dance moves, once more wishing I’d done something to prepare myself for all this. Why hadn’t I taken dance classes like my mom insisted? Or gymnastics? Or even track?
It’s quickly decided that I’ll stay in front and do only a minimal amount of moving—and always at well-cued points in the music, so there’s no chance of me messing up. Well, less of a chance of me messing up.
On the plus side, even though my moves are shaky, the boys more than make up for it. Tyler’s a natural teacher, and both Branden and Kevin are apt pupils. That said, they’re all sweating by the time Tyler’s done running them through the routine a half-dozen times. At least I’m not the only one who looks like I got rained on.
Riley is playing the director, since she wanted to focus solely on her juggling routine, which apparently consists of hula hooping while juggling fake knives. Seeing as she’s flinging blades—dull or not—by her face, I don’t pressure her into joining us. I’d rather not have to show her where the ER is in this town. It’s kind of a trek.
“Great job, guys,” she says. “This is going to be amazing! Tyler, you’re half a count ahead during the last thirty seconds. And Branden, if you could maybe try to smile so it doesn’t look like you’re dying onstage, that would be awesome too.”
“What about Kevin?” Tyler asks, sticking his tongue out at him.
“Kevin’s perfect just the way he is,” Riley says.
“Told you so,” Kevin says.
Tyler rolls his eyes, but he’s cut short by Kevin leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
�
�D’aww, you’re too cute,” Riley says.
Tyler responds by pulling Kevin into a dip and kissing him full on.
“Okay, okay!” Riley yells, giggling. “Get a room, you two.”
It’s adorable, but at that moment I look over to Branden. His eyes flick to catch mine, and something makes butterflies explode in my chest. Eventually, he looks away. I’m pretty certain his already flushed face goes a little redder.
This is exactly how I felt at the dinner table, only much stronger. And suddenly all I can think of is how perfect it would be if tonight, right after we were amazing onstage, he could sweep me into a kiss. He must feel it too. There’s an electricity running between us, even though we’re not making eye contact. A pull. Like magnets, I feel the desire to inch toward him. I mentally cross my fingers and hope that tonight’s the night I get my first kiss. Spotlights and all.
Screw Josh and those mental games. Tonight’s the night I get over him and move on to being with better guys.
“Earth to Jenn,” Riley says, nudging me on the shoulder. “You still in there?”
I shake my head. Crap. I was staring right at Branden. Thankfully, he was too busy practicing a turn with Kevin and Tyler to notice. I hope.
“Yeah, sorry.”
“Come on,” she says, following my gaze. “Let’s go get you changed. It’s your big night, after all.” Then she winks, and I have a funny feeling she knows exactly what I was daydreaming about.
That just makes me blush harder.
Chapter Sixteen
There’s really nothing more nerve-racking than being in a talent show. Let me rephrase that: There’s nothing more nerve-racking than being in a talent show and going last.
For some reason, Riley opted for us to take the final slot in the roster, which I think is a terrible idea but she seems to believe means we’ll make a lasting impression.
“Come on,” she coerces backstage, “this way you’ll be the last thing everyone’s thinking about.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?” I whisper. “I mean, if this was just to impress Branden, we’ve won—he’s already in the group!”
