My ears are hot already, and my heart pounds. “Saiph?”
He scowls at the paper, not looking at me. Sarcasm drips from his voice as he says, “Gee, when you put it that way, how can I resist?”
“I didn’t mean that you…” I don’t know what I meant. I guess it sounded kind of harsh, like I didn’t think he was good enough. But him, not good enough to go with me? Is he crazy? “We’d have fun.”
“You’d have more fun with someone else, you mean. Thanks but no thanks, princess. I’m nobody’s backup date.” Then he takes a deep breath, blinking at me and letting out a wistful sigh. “Not even for you.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Thursday after school, I think Mrs. Wagner’s going to actually tear her hair out. This is only day four of rehearsals, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she snapped and started eating the curtains and then crawled into a fetal position on the floor. Let’s just say rehearsals are not going well.
Of course Mrs. Wagner knows about Nichole plastering those posters all over school about me. I just hope she doesn’t know about me asking Jason out and getting shot down. I wouldn’t think you could step five feet into this school and not hear about it, but teachers can be oblivious sometimes. Or else she’s pretending she doesn’t know so she doesn’t seem insensitive when she orders me to stand closer to him.
I take a tiny step in Jason’s direction. This is supposed to be a touching scene between Will and Victoria, two people in love, but we look like we can’t stand each other. Every time I glance over at Jason, he’s giving me looks of pure loathing and disgust, with his lip curled up in a sneer. It’s not a good look for him—it makes him look less like a cute guy I ever thought I’d want to hang out with, and more… ugly. And mean. So I hold my script in front of my face at all times so I can’t see him. He might think this is somehow for his benefit, so he doesn’t have to see me, but that’s where he’s wrong.
Nichole sees this as another opportunity to pounce. “Mrs. Wagner,” she says in a whiny, nasal voice that I’m getting really sick of, “I think we all need to admit to ourselves that Adrienne just doesn’t have what it takes for this part.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Don’t you think it’s time to let someone else have a chance?”
I exchange a look with Charlotte. We both roll our eyes. Mrs. Wagner’s hair is frazzled, and you can hear her grinding her teeth from the other side of the stage. She glares at Nichole.
“Miss Hamilton,” she says, “if I hear one more word from you on this subject—”
“You know I’m right.”
Mrs. Wagner shakes her rolled up script at Nichole, like she’s scolding a bad puppy. “This kind of tactic might work on your mother, but it won’t work on me. Adrienne is our Victoria, and Jason is our Will, and it is going to work!”
I can’t help a little snicker at Nichole’s expense. Mrs. Wagner whips around and points her rolled up script at me. “And as for you, young lady, if you want this role, you’d do best to respect it. Part of being an actress is putting your own feelings aside and living the part. Now I don’t want to see any more fighting between you two.” She points to me and Nichole.
I wish Saiph had tried out for the play. I bet he’d be a good actor, and even if he just got a role as an extra, at least he’d be here. But Saiph can’t really do that kind of stuff, because a play takes commitment, and he’ll be leaving as soon as he finishes fulfilling my wishes, whenever that is.
“All right, one more time.” Mrs. Wagner signals for us to start the scene again.
I close my eyes and pretend to be Victoria. I’m Victoria, not Adrienne, and this jerk standing next to me isn’t the guy who called me a dog-loser. He’s Victoria’s boyfriend, an honorable and noble knight.
“Oh, Will!” I fling my arm across my forehead dramatically, being silly on purpose. I hear Charlotte and a couple of the other kids laugh. “I just can’t live without you.”
“Oh, Victoria,” Jason says, but he doesn’t even try to put any feeling into it. His voice sounds super bland, and I don’t even know how he got the part. He scans the next line, hesitant to go on. “I…” The next line is “I love you,” but Jason can’t bring himself to even pretend to say it to me. He throws his script on the ground and kicks it across the stage. “This is messed up!”
Mrs. Wagner does more hair pulling. “No, no, no!” she screams.
On TV, this would be the point where I offer up Saiph as a better guy to play Will, claiming this could actually work out if he was here. Nichole and Jason would be out of the play, Saiph and I would get to hang out during rehearsals, and he’d just have to put off granting one of my wishes until the play was over so he could stay. And, yes, I’d get to kiss Saiph in that one scene every time we rehearsed it. I think back now and I wish I hadn’t chickened out when we were practicing in my room. Maybe if I hadn’t I would have asked Saiph to the dance in the first place and he wouldn’t have turned me down.
But I didn’t, and it’s too late now. He’s not here, and Mrs. Wagner says we have to do it one more time, and God help her, if we don’t make a serious effort… She doesn’t say what she’ll do, but, personally, I think she’ll explode into little pieces all over the stage.
I make an effort. I hold my script down lower, so people can see my face. I look at Jason, in the eyes even, and he looks at me. It’s obvious we both hate each other, but I do my best to suppress it. I mean, the show must go on, even if your co-star doesn’t want to be within fifty feet of you.
“Oh, Will.” I don’t do the comedy thing this time. I say it in the best British accent I can muster, with as much real passion as I can put into it. I take all the feelings I have and make them be Victoria’s feelings. My acting skills could still use a lot of work, but Mrs. Wagner was nice enough to give me this part, and I put all I have into it for her. “I simply can’t live like this.”
“Oh, Victoria.” Jason sounds choked up. I’m impressed that he’s taking this seriously, and then I see that he’s only choked up because he’s trying not to laugh.
I wonder what’s so funny, and then I hear Nichole giggle behind me, right before something frozen and wet shimmies down my back. I scream in shock before I can stop myself, my voice high and shrill and ear splitting. I catch a glimpse of Mrs. Wagner putting her hands over her ears to block out my noise. The cold thing—which I’m pretty sure is an ice cube—catches in my bra strap for a second, then slides the rest of the way down my back and into the top of my pants. I’m dancing around, trying to grab at my back and failing to stop it. I probably look like a deranged monkey trying out for the circus. The ice cube slips out the bottom of my pant leg and clatters on the floor. When I get a hold of myself enough to survey the damage, everyone’s staring at me, trying not to laugh.
Nichole’s trying especially hard not to, because Mrs. Wagner’s watching, but it just comes out as a snort instead. Jason doesn’t even try to hide how funny he thinks this is, and he and Nichole share a fist bump as he says, “Nice one.”
“That’s it!” Mrs. Wagner stomps her foot and draws in a deep breath. “I don’t know why I even bother! If none of you kids can take this seriously…” She purses her lips and narrows her eyes at me. “And you, Adrienne Speck—I expected so much more from you.”
From me? I’m not the one who dumped an ice cube down my back.
“I guess she’s not up to being Victoria,” Nichole says, shrugging. “I know someone who could take her place.”
“I’ll bet you do,” I mutter.
Mrs. Wagner glares at both of us. “Girls! I don’t get paid enough to work like this! If nobody can get along, then nobody’s playing Victoria because this play is canceled!” She throws down her script and storms off, leaving us all standing around in shock.
“Wow,” Nichole says. “Try taking a chill pill sometime.”
I fold my arms and glare at her. “Thanks a lot. I can’t believe you did that.”
Nichole gasps with fake innocence. “It was an accident!
You don’t think I’d do that on purpose, do you? To you?” She laughs, and then she and Jason stroll out of the theater like nothing happened.
She doesn’t seem to care that she’s ruined the play for both of us, as long as I didn’t get the part she wanted. That’s how petty and mean she is. I think Kindergarten must have been when she first became really popular, because she must have decided everything she was doing then was working out for her and hasn’t changed her ways since. That’s why she acts like a brat to get her way all the time. It must be.
Chapter Twenty-three
I skip school the next day. It’s Friday, so that gives me three days before I have to face people for my part in ruining the play. Even if it wasn’t completely my fault, I still feel kind of guilty. I could have tried harder to not let Nichole and Jason get to me. And I’m not ready to face the wrath of Charlotte and all the others who I know were looking forward to the production, so I’m at home, with Saiph. We’re giving my room a unicorn-ectomy.
Saiph drags the bedspread into the middle of the room to start the pile. I pull off the pillowcases and toss them in.
“You know,” I say, taking the lampshades off and flinching when the light’s too bright, “you’re probably going to have a lot of trouble granting that wish now.”
He looks up at me. “Which one?”
Either, but there’s no way I’m bringing up the subject of the dance again with him. Though at this point, with the dance only being next weekend, I’m a little worried about that one, too. “Me, being popular. I just got the play canceled. It’s a big deal. A lot of kids were in it, and they’re all going to hate me now. Plus, Nichole and Jason are pretty pissed, and that means all their friends are going to be mad, too. So that’s… all the popular kids, and all the dorky kids, and they’re all mad at me.”
“You’ll just have to do something else crazy enough to take their minds off of it.” He picks up a couple of little ceramic unicorns off my dresser, touching them with as few fingers as possible, like they’re diseased. He throws them in the pile, not caring when a horn breaks off one of them.
My mom gave me those, just like she gave me all this unicorn stuff. But maybe gave isn’t the right word. Forced on me is more like it. I appreciate her only wanting the best for me, but my perception of “me” and her perception of “me” are completely different, and my room is way overdue for some redecorating.
“I could get the dance canceled, too.” I forgot I wasn’t going to mention the dance. It’s too late now, and I try to smile, like it’s no big deal.
“Then you really wouldn’t get your wish granted.” Saiph opens the top drawer of my dresser and rifles through it.
“Hey! I thought we talked about this?!”
“There could be unicorns in here—how am I supposed to know?” He reaches into the drawer and grins. I don’t know how, but he’s managed to find the one pair of unicorn undies still floating around in there from when I was six. They’re very small and pink with white unicorns printed all over them.
“Give me those!” I snatch them from him and hide them in the pile under the pillowcases.
I hear something crash behind me. Something heavy and breakable. I spin around and see my glass trophy from the spelling bee when I was ten, the one that was on my dresser, now on the floor in a million shattered pieces.
Saiph has that deer-in-the-headlights look, like he knows he’s going to die but doesn’t know what to do. “I hardly bumped it. It just fell and…”
I crouch down next to it. My only accomplishment. My heart feels all achy and empty. I take deep breaths and stand up. “It’s okay.”
“Wait, I can fix it!” Saiph holds his hands out, motioning for me to stay calm. “I, your hero, will right this horrible wrong and put everything back how it was.” He points a finger at the mess.
I grab his hand to stop him. “Leave it.”
“But—”
“No, really. I don’t need it anymore.” After all, there’s the framed poster of the play on the wall, commemorating the brief moment in time when I actually had the star role in the school production. Not like I’d ever forget, even without the poster.
I’m still holding Saiph’s hand. He doesn’t seem to notice, and I don’t really want to let go. It’s one thing to let go of an old trophy I clung to because I thought it represented my only worthwhile accomplishment in life. It’s another to let go of someone I really care about.
Saiph gives the room a once over, then nods. “Looks unicorn-free to me. Let’s go.”
He means to the store, to replace all this stuff. I figure redecorating, and actually having this feel like my room for the first time ever, is worth splurging on. Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t get that dress. Then I’d have the most beautiful dress in the world, but I’d still be stuck with all the unicorns.
I tug on Saiph’s hand, not letting him go just yet. “Saiph, are you… after you grant my wishes, are you really leaving?” I stare at my feet. I can feel tears springing to my eyes. “Do you really have to go?”
“I’m afraid I do, dirt princess. It’s just how it works.” He says everything so calmly, but I feel him squeeze my hand.
“What happens if you don’t? Grant all my wishes? What if something happens, and you can’t?”
But Saiph pretends like he doesn’t hear me. He drops my hand and hurries into the hall, glancing over his shoulder to ask, “Aren’t you coming?”
I don’t like that he didn’t answer me. It gives me this cold, shrinking feeling in my stomach. I think about Starstruck, about the star turning into stardust in the end. But that was different. The problem was the boy didn’t tell her he loved her in time. There weren’t any wishes involved.
A star unloved cannot survive outside of the sky—that was the number one rule. The rule that would turn her into stardust if she remained unloved much longer.
It was just a story, just something someone made up. Maybe a star really did come down to Earth for me, but that was a coincidence. He probably didn’t have any choice in it, right? And, even if my story and that story were similar, there’s one thing I know for sure is different. In the book, the boy fell in love with the star, and she loved him back. Even if I might feel that way about Saiph, he’s made it very clear that he doesn’t feel that way about me.
***
I’m afraid to look at anyone at lunch on Monday. I’m afraid to even sit with them, in case Charlotte and Toby’s group have decided they made a mistake in befriending me. Maybe they were too hasty. They’d somehow missed out on hearing about all the stupid things I’ve done. They didn’t realize they were taking in such a loser.
Saiph has no qualms about sitting down at the table. He’s been eating lunch here with me ever since we started talking again, and I guess he has nothing to fear. After all, he wasn’t the one who ruined the play. Though he did get me the lead role, so in a way you could say he was partly responsible for what happened.
I sit down, keeping my eyes on my lunch tray, waiting for someone to tell me to get lost.
“You weren’t here on Friday,” Charlotte says. She sounds disappointed.
“Yeah,” Toby says, “you missed out. Oh, and we had a ton of homework in math. I’ll lend you my notes.”
Lend me his notes? And what did I miss out on? I risk a glance at him and Charlotte, then at the rest of the table. I stand up. I can’t let this go on. I keep eye contact with them, doing my best to be brave. “It was my fault the play was canceled.” There. I admitted it. I slump back down in my seat, waiting for them to sentence me to exile.
Everybody gives me worried looks.
“Um, yeah,” Charlotte says. “We know. I was there, remember?”
“Adrienne, you should have been here!” Toby leans across the table, his glasses almost falling off. “Everyone heard about what Nichole did to you. There were rumors that you got suspended for beating her up—”
“But I knew you hadn’t,” Charlotte adds. Her eyes keep darting
over to Toby. She seems disappointed about something. Probably about the play. “Because I was there.”
“There wasn’t any fighting.” Though it’s great that they think I’d actually win in a brawl with Nichole. I exchange a glance with Saiph. “But isn’t everyone mad? I mean, I sort of ruined the play.”
“Why would we be mad?” Charlotte says, but her teeth are clenched, and it’s hard to believe she’s not angry about something. “It was just a play. There’ll be others.”
“Yeah,” Toby adds. “You’re sure to get the lead for that one, too. Maybe I’ll try out next time.”
Charlotte glares at him. “You said you didn’t like acting, remember? That’s why you wouldn’t come to auditions with me.”
Toby shrugs and grins at me, not even glancing at Charlotte. “Well, that was before.”
“Before what?” she asks.
“Before it got interesting.”
***
“I can’t wait until tomorrow, can you?” Charlotte asks as we leave the lunchroom and head to our next classes. Hers is a couple doors down the hall from mine.
I look at Saiph, but he just shrugs. He doesn’t know what she’s talking about either.
Charlotte’s smiling, and right now I can believe that she doesn’t have any hard feelings about the play. But at lunch? Not that I’m an expert at reading people, but she seemed kind of upset.
“What’s tomorrow?” I ask.
Charlotte stops in the hall, and two people almost smack into her. “Tomorrow is only the regional poetry contest! You know, Janet’s entry got in.” Janet’s one of the girls who sits at our table, the one with the pink headband with fake jewels all over it. “Hers rhymed. I entered, but…” Charlotte holds out her hands in a “life sucks, but what can you do about it?” gesture.
“I sort of got in, too,” I tell her. “But I think it was a mistake. Mine wasn’t that good.” Just like me getting the lead role in the play wasn’t exactly based on any real talent, I’m still not convinced the judges of the poetry contest didn’t feel sorry for me. Me and Charlotte should be in the same boat together, but I keep mistakenly getting ahead.
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