Donut Go Breaking My Heart

by Suzanne Nelson

  “Mine, too,” the guide said. “Do you know it’s made of foam? The whole thing weighs less than forty pounds.”

  “That’s amazing.” I stared at it, awestruck by the magic of the illusion it created. That was why I loved set design so much. You could take simple materials and make something incredible to capture an audience’s imagination.

  I followed the tour guide to where the giant gold “floating head” sat in the darkness at the corner of the stage. “Go ahead. Take a look.” He pointed me toward the complicated backdrop of wires and metal behind the head. “Can you guess how the prop hand might operate it?”

  I stepped up to the panel and saw an odd foot pedal at its bottom and a hole in the center of the panel with a familiar-looking handle protruding from it. “Is that a … a bike brake handlebar?”

  The tour guide smiled, nodding. “That’s how you control the head, along with the bass drum pedal here.” He gestured to the pedal on the floor. “Try it out.”

  My heart hammered with excitement as I experimented with pushing the pedal and squeezing the handlebars, making the gold head open and close its mouth and lift its eyebrows.

  “I’m not really supposed to do this, but …” The tour guide flipped a few switches, and the head’s eyes lit up and smoke poured from its nostrils.

  “So cool!” I laughed. “Kiri, do you see this?”

  I looked over my shoulder, waiting for her to respond. But I was met with only silence and the tour guide’s worried gaze. “I thought they were right here. I hope they didn’t wander too far,” the guide said, turning the head off and walking toward the wings. “They’re supposed to stay with me.”

  I followed the guide through a series of narrow hallways. When we neared a dressing room, we heard a commotion. We peered into the open door and found Cabe and Kiri surrounded by half a dozen Wicked performers, all still in costume. Kiri was seated in an armchair with her leg propped up on a stool. The cast members were offering her ice packs and fussing over her like she was mortally wounded. Cabe was seated on the arm of Kiri’s chair, concern creasing his face.

  “What did I tell you about those cables?” a costumed monkey was saying to the scarecrow. “Didn’t I say someone was going to break a leg?”

  “It’s not broken,” Kiri said, offering up a weak smile.

  I squeezed into the huddle. “What happened?” I asked Kiri.

  Her eyes turned glassy. “I feel like such a klutz. I tripped over a wire.” She wiggled her right foot and winced. “I think I sprained my ankle.”

  A chorus of “poor thing” followed, along with a renewed offer from someone to fetch more ice. Kiri waved them away as she wrapped her ankle in a bandage someone had unearthed from a first aid kit. “Please, you all have done enough already. I’ll be fine.”

  “We should get you back home,” I said. “Your mom might want to take you for an X-ray.”

  “No,” she groaned. “I don’t want to cut our tour short.” She tried to stand but sank back into the chair, grimacing. “Okay,” she said meekly. “I give. You’re right.”

  “I already called Ben for the car,” Cabe said. “He’s waiting outside the side exit.”

  Cabe slipped his arm around Kiri’s waist to help her out of the chair. A path parted in the dressing room, and we slowly made our way to the exit, with Kiri apologizing all the way for causing so much trouble.

  I opened the door a crack and a wave of deafening screams and chants of “Cabe! Cabe! Cabe!” hit me. Just before I slammed the door shut, I saw the flashes fire on about a hundred phones. “Um, you guys?” I pressed my back against the door. “We have a problem. There’s a ton of reporters and fans out there.”

  Cabe frowned, but his expression was resolved. “It’s okay. The only thing that matters right now is getting Kiri home safe.”

  Kiri squeezed his arm. “You’re too sweet for words.”

  My stomach lurched as Cabe smiled down at her. Get a grip, I scolded myself. Here was my best friend, injured, and I was jealous of a little smile? I needed to be supportive, not possessive. I took a deep breath and when Cabe nodded, I opened the door again.

  We stepped out into blinding flashes and cheers, and I instantly had to fight the urge to run back inside. How did Cabe deal with this? I took Kiri’s other arm, trying to hurry her as much as was possible toward the curb and Cabe’s waiting car. We took a few staggering steps, and then Kiri stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

  She didn’t respond, but slipped her arm from mine and stepped closer to Cabe. Then she offered up a fragile wave to the crowd. “Tonight, Cabe Sadler’s my real hero!” she called. She beamed up at him, and then kissed him on the cheek.

  My heart dropped to my toes as the fans exploded into whistles and applause. Kiri’s smile widened, while Cabe’s expression was a turnstile of emotions. First embarrassment, next confusion, and then panic crossed his face. He double-timed it to the open car door with Kiri, and I did my best to keep up, clumsily spilling into the car after the two of them. Fans swarmed the limo, but Ben pulled away from the curb and into the stream of traffic in Times Square.

  The multicolored lights beaming in from the windows showed Cabe tight-lipped and silent, staring into his lap, while Kiri sat back with a tired sigh.

  “I hope I didn’t ruin your night,” she said to Cabe. “This is all so embarrassing.” She gestured toward her ankle.

  “Don’t worry about it.” He gave her a small smile.

  I stared at Kiri. All I could think about was her kiss. Their kiss. How could she have done that in front of all those cameras, when she knew full well how closely Cabe was scrutinized?

  When Cabe’s cell rang, all three of us jumped.

  “Hello?” Cabe’s voice was tense, and within seconds, I’d guessed from all the “uh-huhs” and “oh nos” that this was not good news. After he hung up, he collapsed against the seat, pressing his fingers to his temples. “That was my manager. There’s a photo of … of us.” He glanced at Kiri, and I could see pink rising to his cheeks even in the dim light of the car. “Trending on Instagram. It’s gotten ten thousand likes in five minutes.” He swiped his thumb across his phone’s screen, then handed it to me and Kiri.

  There it was—a picture of Kiri kissing Cabe, her eyes gleaming in adoration as she gazed up at him. I could barely breathe as I looked at it. They were a beautiful couple, no doubt about it. Kiri hit the back arrow on the screen and a montage of photos of her and Cabe, all from various angles popped into view. Then there was another photo, showing Kiri and me, side by side. The caption screaming under the photo read: CABE TOO YOUNG FOR TWO CRUSHES?

  I shut my eyes and turned away from the phone, feeling nauseous.

  “I had no idea this would happen,” Kiri said softly. “I only wanted to say thank you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Cabe sounded resigned. “It’ll blow over.” He tossed his phone onto the empty seat beside him.

  We spent the rest of the ride sitting in stilted silence, and I was relieved when the car finally pulled up to Kiri’s front stoop. Ben jumped from the car to help Kiri while I made sure I had Kiri’s purse and coat, which I’d offered to bring inside.

  I was about to climb out of the car but hesitated, turning back to Cabe. The shadows in the car turned his eyes into a midnight sky. He was trying hard to hide his frustration, but the effort was only making the muscles along his jawline clench even tighter. It made him look angsty, and—sigh—ridiculously cute.

  “Will this be a huge problem?” I asked.

  His phone started ringing again, but he turned it off. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I spent all day walking around town, and not a single person asked me for my autograph. You were right about that. New Yorkers really just leave each other be. I liked that. A lot.”

  “But the paparazzi? The fans who won’t leave you alone?” I asked.

  “They might always be around, but I’m done letting them get to me. Rumors aren�
��t real, so why should I care? If I ever want to have a life outside of the spotlight, I need to learn to act like it doesn’t exist.” He looked at me, his expression serious. “But I’m sorry about how things ended tonight. I wanted it to be fun for you.”

  “I did have fun.” I smiled. “It was amazing seeing the set and props. It was probably one of the coolest things I’ve ever done in the city.”

  He brightened. “Really?”

  I nodded. “So … thanks.” I set one foot out of the car, but Cabe touched my hand. “Sheyda. Wait.” His hand was still over mine, and heat shot through my fingers. “I wanted to tell you—”

  “Ready, miss?” a voice said, and I glanced up to see Ben extending his hand to help me out of the car. I glanced back at Cabe. “What?” I asked weakly, as all sorts of imaginings flitted through my mind. What was he going to say? That he liked Kiri, probably. But maybe … what if he liked me? What if he was about to say it out loud? My heart ached with hope, but I told it to chill. There was Kiri, first of all, and the impossibility of ever doing anything to hurt her. And then there was Cabe, a boy completely out of my league, practically out of my universe. It couldn’t be.

  Cabe sat back against the seat, the determination in his face fading. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

  My heart sank. Good, I told it. Get used to it, because this is how things are. “Yup,” I said, my voice reaching for a lightness I didn’t feel. “Tomorrow.”

  * * *

  “Can I get you some more ice?” I asked as Kiri settled back onto her bed, her ankle resting on a mountain of pillows. She was already streaming her favorite Cabe Sadler movie on her tablet and sipping some hot chocolate Mrs. Seng had made for us.

  “I’m good, thanks,” Kiri said distractedly as she stared at the tablet’s screen. She lifted it up to me for a glimpse. “He looks even better now than he did here, don’t you think? Can you imagine how cute he’ll be in high school?” She smiled, without a trace of the discomfort she’d had back at the theater.

  “Does it still hurt?”

  She glanced down at the ice pack encasing her foot. “Sure it hurts … Ooooh! This is the best part of the whole movie!”

  Her cell phone buzzed. I spotted it on her desk just as Kiri jumped off the bed. “I’ve got it.”

  For a second, all I could do was stare. Kiri had a sprained ankle, but I’d just seen her leap out of bed with the enthusiasm of a gymnast, and now she was standing with her full weight on both feet, ogling her phone.

  “Oh. My. God.” Kiri hopped up and down. “Val just texted. She said the entire school’s seen the photo of me and Cabe. And someone wrote a song about the two of us and posted it on YouTube.”

  “Kiri.” It took all my effort to keep my voice calm. “Your ankle.”

  “Huh?” She glanced up, and then an instant later was hobbling back toward the bed. “Ow, ow, ow,” she mumbled, her face twisting in pain. “I forgot.”

  I wanted to believe her. I needed to believe her. She’d been in tears at the theater. And pale, even. The pain had seemed so real! If she’d faked that … she was a good actress. Good enough to have fooled me. And Cabe.

  I sat down on the bed and stared out the window, snapshots from our friendship flowing through my mind. Kiri picking my outfits for the first day of school; Kiri choosing where we sat in the cafeteria. Had I ever made a single decision on my own when the two of us were together? A slow burn started in my chest, and I felt words building up at the back of my throat that I’d never imagined saying. Like, What are you doing? And, How could you?

  “Kiri,” I started.

  “Hmmm?” Kiri mumbled. She flopped forward to give me a spontaneous, sideways hug. “Hey, thank you so much for tonight.” Her eyes were full of gratitude, but I wondered what it was gratitude for. Taking care of her after she hurt her ankle, or letting her stake a claim with Cabe? She squeezed my hand. “I couldn’t ask for a better bestie.”

  The burning in my chest fizzled.

  “You’re welcome,” I finally mumbled as Mrs. Seng walked into the room.

  “Sheyda, I should walk you home,” she said. “It’s late.”

  I nodded and stood, checking the time. “Ugh. And I still have work to do on my model.”

  “Tonight?” Kiri asked in surprise. “It’s almost eleven!”

  “The Donut filming’s been taking so much time, and the application’s due in five days.” I yawned. “It’s going to be a late night.”

  Kiri shook her head. “You’ll finish it on time. You’ve never turned anything in late in your life.”

  My anger flared again. I was getting sick of comments like that. From Kiri, Mina, my parents, my teachers. Just once, it might feel good for someone to be worried about me, instead of expecting me to handle everything the way I always did.

  A few minutes later, as I walked through the quieting streets with Mrs. Seng, disappointment settled into my skin. Maybe Kiri was playing pretend, but wasn’t I pretending, too? I hadn’t had the courage to confront Kiri, and now I was doing what I’d done for as long as I could remember: pretending everything was okay.

  I was letting myself down, and somehow, that made me feel even worse than the photo of Kiri and Cabe’s kiss.

  “I can’t believe you told them!” Mina yelled as she barreled into our room Monday morning. I jerked upright in bed, startled out of a dreamless sleep. I’d stayed up until two in the morning working on my model, and now the whole world was taking on the fuzzy cast that came with exhaustion.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You told them I snuck out on Saturday! And now I’m grounded for a whole month. You went behind my back. Unbelievable!”

  “Mina, I don’t know how they found out. I didn’t say a word.” I stood up groggily. I’d gone to bed still angry over holding my tongue with Kiri, and now I felt everything building up inside me again.

  Mina glared at me. “Yeah right. You just had to be Miss Perfect, didn’t you?”

  “Shut up!” I shouted. It came out so loudly that I shrank from the sound of my own voice. Mina’s eyes saucered in shock, but I didn’t care anymore. “Blame me if you want. You’re the one who broke the rules, so … so just get over it!”

  “Sheyda?” My mom came into the room wide-eyed and worried. “Was that you yelling? That’s not like you.”

  “Aaaaaagh!” I cried in frustration. Not like me. “You don’t know what’s like me and what isn’t! None of you have a clue.” These days, I didn’t even know!

  I stormed into the bathroom to wash up, then got dressed quickly, throwing on a sweater over my leggings. As I grabbed my bag, I remembered there was a math test today. I’d been planning to study over the weekend, but with the filming and everything else, I’d completely forgotten.

  “I’m going to school,” I said. If I left now, maybe I could study at school before class started. I blew past Mina and Mom, who were still standing, frozen, in the center of the room. I vaguely registered the astonishment on their faces but ignored it. “Fight all you want. I’m so, so sick of it, and I don’t have to stay here and listen.”

  If they said anything after that, I was out the door before I could hear it. I must’ve looked as volcanic as I felt, because when the paparazzi stationed outside saw me, they instinctively took a step back.

  One brave reporter snapped a photo and blurted, “Sheyda, how do you feel about your best friend kissing Cabe Sadler?”

  Ugh. If I’d had a rotten tomato, I would’ve launched it at his face. Instead, I took off at a jog down the street. The sky was heavy and the cold air felt good against my blazing skin, but that was the only thing that felt good today so far. A couple of minutes later, when I flew past Kiri’s apartment, my step didn’t falter. Today, I was going to school alone.

  * * *

  My mood didn’t improve when I spotted more paparazzi hovering around the school. Before they saw me, I skirted around to the entrance that led into the theater. Once inside, I climbed the st
airs to my hiding spot on the catwalk, trying to calm down. I wished I could hang out in the quiet darkness for the rest of the day. The idea of seeing Kiri, of having to pretend like I was okay, made me queasy. I pulled out my math textbook and, using my phone’s flashlight, made a sorry attempt at studying. There wasn’t a chance I could prepare for this test in an hour. I’d have to wing it, something I’d never done before, and hope I could at least pass.

  I didn’t know how much time had gone by before I heard a voice from below call out, “Sheyda?” I peered over the catwalk to see Ms. Feld on the stage, shaking a light dusting of snow from her lavender coat. “Is that you up there, bubala? The bell’s set to ring in a couple minutes.”

  I made my way down the stairs as Ms. Feld flipped light switches, illuminating her office.

  “There’s quite a stir out front. A crowd of reporters waiting for our Mr. Sadler.” She peered at me with curiosity, and I wondered if the rumors about Cabe and me and Kiri had managed to reach even her ears. I dropped my eyes, not sure what I’d do if she started asking questions. Ever since I’d left my apartment, I’d felt so close to tears that I was afraid even the littlest thing might start them falling. “It’s just started snowing, and the forecast is predicting it will get heavier midmorning. There might be an early dismissal.”

  Not early enough, I thought, dreading my math test.

  “So. Your model. You’ll bring it in for me to see on Friday?” I nodded, and she smiled. “Feel free to bring it in earlier if it’s finished. I can’t wait to see it!”

  My stomach flip-flopped. “You’ll have it by Friday,” I managed weakly, and then added, “I’d better get to class.”

  I hurried out into the bustling hallway, keeping my head down as I made my way to my locker. In my rush, I ended up smacking right into someone’s shoulder.

  I glanced up and a pair of ocean eyes met mine. “Oh. Hey, Cabe,” I started, but then I stepped back, taking in the rest of the picture. Kiri, whose ankle was still wrapped in the bandage, had one arm around Cabe and the other holding a glittery hot-pink cane. Cabe was dressed up as Charlie Chaplin, and Kiri was wearing an old-fashioned twenties-style dress. Their costumes didn’t make any sense to me until I remembered the history project they’d been working on together. Today must’ve been their day to present to the class.