On the Loose by Jenny B Jones

with his scenes for the first forty-five minutes. He wants to be the king. The male roles are pretty limited in this play. It’s either the prince, king, or guys who blow bugles.
    “Now it’s your turn. We’ve practiced so much I have the king’s lines memorized.”
    “Memorized already? That’s really good, Jeremy.”
    His face falls. “There are only five lines.”
    “But you get to wear a crown.”
    His smile returns.
    I give Cinderella my best for the next thirty minutes. Jeremy and I are waltzing (more like swaying with an occasional leg spasm movement), and I’m practicing my “Oh, no it’s midnight” face, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.
    “May I cut in?”
    I know that voice. I hear it in my dreams.
    I swallow hard. And turn around.
    Nodding weakly, I am swept into the arms of Trevor Jackson, the fairest guy in all the land.
    At my look of dismay Trevor laughs. “I thought you might want to learn how to waltz.” His eyes meet mine. “The right way.”
    I plaster a smile on my face, trying to buy some time until I can find my tongue.
    “How . . . how do you know how to waltz?” Is this just a pre-req for guys at In Between?
    His grin reveals brilliantly white teeth. Mmm  . . . and fresh, minty breath too. “Drama II. You’ll learn it next year.” He pulls me closer. “But why wait ’til then when you can learn now?”
    Sighhh.
    Only Trevor Jackson can make words like “one, two, three” sound romantic as he teaches me the waltz. Tucked close to his chest, the rest of the class period flies. By the time the bell rings I’ve stepped on his feet six times, tripped myself twice, actually achieved witty banter three times, and been tempted to hand him my heart about one hundred times.
    I look at the clock just to make sure it’s really three. It is.
    Trevor lifts my hand. “As an Elizabethan gentleman, this is where I bow over your hand.” And he does. He really does. “And you curtsy.” His smile sends butterflies rappelling off my stomach. “But remember . . . Cinderella is totally captured by Prince Charming. So when she curtsies, her eyes never leave his.”
    At Trevor’s nod, I sweep into a low curtsey. Just like I saw on Pride and Prejudice last weekend. Yes, okay, I was watching public television with Maxine.
    When my hand is released, I cradle it to my chest.
    “Take care, Katie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    He’ll see me tomorrow? Trevor plans to see me? When? Why? I need to get my hair done!
    He winks. At me. “At auditions.”
    Oh, right. I knew that. Auditions.
    I didn’t think he was asking me out or anything. Noooo.
    Well.
    Maybe for a second.

Chapter 11

    M eet at my house after school. CU there.
    This was the text message Frances and I got from Charlie during eighth period.
    After a call to Millie, in which I assured her of my safety and promised not to do anything stupid, I hopped in the car with Frances. Frances drives a station wagon. And aside from the fact she calls it Sally Ann (for no apparent reason), there is nothing cool about it. Her mom says if Frances is gonna drive, it’s going to be something that can haul all three of her siblings. This wagon could probably carry all the siblings in the state of Texas.
    My car door creaks shut, and Sally Ann sputters to life.
    “What’s our strategy?” Frances’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
    “Does it matter?” I fasten my seatbelt. “You’ve totally ignored every strategic plan we’ve had.”
    “No! Don’t give up on me. I need more strategy. Strategy is the only way.”
    “Fine,” I say on a sigh. “Here’s what I think we should do. We’ll all have some small talk for a few minutes. I assume Charlie will probably get us something to drink or eat. This will probably take about fifteen minutes. You can handle that. Charlie and I will be there for interference. Then I’ll suggest we break up into our respective partners so we can work on our projects.”
    “Uh-huh, okay,