A Little Crushed by Viviane Brentanos Page B

get.”
    “You don’t like her?” Leaning against Tom’s desk, Mr. Hurst folded his arms, his heavy eyebrows in danger of overlapping. “I’ve always found her a pleasure to work with. Of course, I’ve never given her the starring role before, but now, she has matured—”
    “She has?” Max scoffed. “When? Still…” He stared into his mug, cerebral cogs clicking over. “This could be a way of— Mmm, yes.”
    “Mmm, yes, as in you’ll do it?” Tom prompted him. “Come on, man. Put me out of my misery. I promise I’ll get Fiona to make you a curry every week.”
    “You never did fight fair.” Max grunted. “So much for the public schoolboy code of honour.”
    “I went to grammar school. I’ll tell her to throw in her apple pie?”
    “Will you stop?” Max laughed. “I must be mad, but okay, I’ll do it.”
    “Excellent!”
    Max stepped back. Tom looked as if he wanted to kiss him. “Hey, no New Age man touchy-feely stuff, thank you.”
    “Welcome aboard.” Jim Hurst slapped him on the back. “Let’s set up our first meeting and take it from there. Thank you, Tom, for your time.”
    “Don’t say it.” Tom closed the door after he left. “I know. I dropped you in it, but it will be fun. Honest.”
    “‘…said the spider to the fly.’”
     

Chapter Ten
     
    “Hurry up.” Rebecca held Emma’s wrist in a vice-like grip. “A sloth moves faster than you.” She pulled her along the corridor. “It won’t look too good if we’re late on the first day.”
    “First time you’ve bothered about being late,” Emma grumbled. “Why are you making me do this? It’s four o’ clock, and I want to go home.”
    “It will be fun. Mr. Hurst is great, and he does the most incredible impressions. His Yul Brynner is amazing.”
    “I can’t wait.”
    “Think of it as therapeutic. It just might take your mind off Andy Stone.”
    Pushing open the Assembly Hall doors, Emma sent her a wounded stare. “Must you bring that up?”
    Emma’s love-life forgotten, Rebecca stared at the crowd gathered in front of the stage. “Wow, where have all these people come from? Vicky? What are you doing here? It’s not X-Factor , you know.”
    Her sister met her sarcasm with the finger.
    Emma let out a squeal of horror. “Oh God, there’s Andy. I’m off.”
    “No you don’t.” Rebecca dragged her into a seat. “Be strong. Too late anyway. Mr. Hurst is already here.”
    Glancing at the clock on the wall, her favourite teacher mounted the stage, calling for attention. The hum of excited chatter ceased.
    “First of all, I’d like to thank all of you for taking the time to come along today, and I’m pleased to see so many new ‘recruits.’” He cleared his throat. “As you know, the school has successfully staged an excellent production for the last five years, and we hope that this year will be no exception. The most important thing I want you all to remember is that it will be a team effort. Everyone will play a part—whether it is on stage or behind the scenes.”
    “I am telling you now. I’m not shifting any bloody scenery.” Emma muttered.
    Rebecca said nothing, comfortable in the knowledge she was Mr. Hurst’s favourite. This year, she knew she would be given the lead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her sister giggle into her hand before nudging her entourage. Something was definitely going on with them. The only amateur dramatics Vicky showed interest in was feigning illness to bunk off school.
    “Hey,” Emma called out across the aisle. “What happened to the Viking blonde?”
    Vicky patted her new, dark brown tresses. “If I am to be leading lady, I need to be taken seriously. Duh!” She raised her eyes to the ceiling while her friends laughed like well-trained monkeys.
    “Oh, do excuse me,” Emma retorted. “Anyway what makes you think you stand a chance?”
    “Because,” Vicky flicked back her locks and pouted, “Mr. Hurst said so.”
    “He’s going to give you the