needs to try to suck less,” Sarah said, dismissing her freshman stagehand with one final glare before she turned back to Rachel. “Are y’all ready? I need to head out.”
“Just a couple more seconds,” Rachel said in her talking-to-someone-who-matters voice. Ever since the fashion show girls found out Sarah was a “professional” actress, they’d been a lot friendlier. “Sorry, we’re almost finished. We’re just deciding on the dresses for the finale. I think I’ve picked mine.” She gestured down at the skintight red dress she wore. It looked like something my gran would have worn to a 1960s cocktail party. It was really different. Interesting.
And not at all what she’d worn before.
I peeked into the room, swallowing hard as I took in the rhinestone pins and cat-eye glasses, the taffeta and chiffon and strings of pearls. All ten girls were decked out in period costume. It was like they’d stepped out of Leave It to Beaver . Or maybe Stepford Wives would be a better analogy.
More changes. More and more and more until I felt like I was going to lose what was left of my mind.
“Is something wrong, Katie?” Rachel asked.
“Um. No.” I shook my head a little too long. I could feel myself shaking like an idiot, but I couldn’t seem to stop. It was starting to feel like this wasn’t even my life anymore.
Who had dreamed mundane details were so important? That the color of a door or the arrangement of a classroom or the expected Wednesday chili dog buffet line could mean so much?
Rachel reached out, plucking a dust ball from the end of my hair and flicking it onto the ground. “Listen, Isaac and I talked.” She made the word “talked” sound like a bona fide betrayal. “I know you were upset that I didn’t ask you to be part of the show.”
I was going to kill him. How dare he talk to Rachel about me behind my back? And tell her things I’d never even said, no less? I tried to smile. “No, I wasn’t upset at all. I mean, I’m not upset. Now, or ever.”
“It’s okay. I really would have asked you if it wasn’t a conflict of interest.”
A conflict of interest? What was she talking about?
She swiped an invisible bit of lipstick off the corner of her lips. “I mean, I really wanted this show to have all the hottest senior girls at BHH in it. I told Isaac that, but he still didn’t get it. He just can’t see clearly where you’re concerned. But you understand, right?”
“Oh, yeah. No worries.” I understood completely. She’d thrown the “senior” part in there so it wouldn’t seem like she was being mean, but she was. She knew it, and I knew it. Once again, she was making it clear I wasn’t good enough for Isaac and that he was the only one who hadn’t gotten the memo.
Sarah took a deep breath and discreetly grabbed the strap of my backpack. “Okay, Rachel, I have to go. You can have the keys.” She tossed the keys in a wide arc. For the first time in my life I witnessed Rachel Pruitt suffering from awkward as she snatched them from the air. It was only a second, but it was enough to make me silently pledge my eternal friendship to Sarah Needles. “Lock up the dressing room and the front and back doors to the theater. I’m telling Mr. Geery you’re in charge, so if anything gets stolen, it’s your fault.”
“Thanks, Sarah,” Rachel said, so sweet she’d make sugar taste artificial. “You’ve been a big help. You’re such a good friend to our little Katie. And her boyfriend.”
“Whatever, Rachel.” Sarah spun away, pulling me with her. When she was in stage manager mode, Sarah was confident enough to treat a senior goddess like an equal.
I, however, turned over my shoulder and gave a little wave.
I wasn’t confident enough to snub Rachel. For some stupid reason, I couldn’t bring myself to be rude to the girl who had inferred I was an ugly troll more times than I could remember.
“Don’t let her get to you. You’re gorgeous, way prettier than she
“Just a couple more seconds,” Rachel said in her talking-to-someone-who-matters voice. Ever since the fashion show girls found out Sarah was a “professional” actress, they’d been a lot friendlier. “Sorry, we’re almost finished. We’re just deciding on the dresses for the finale. I think I’ve picked mine.” She gestured down at the skintight red dress she wore. It looked like something my gran would have worn to a 1960s cocktail party. It was really different. Interesting.
And not at all what she’d worn before.
I peeked into the room, swallowing hard as I took in the rhinestone pins and cat-eye glasses, the taffeta and chiffon and strings of pearls. All ten girls were decked out in period costume. It was like they’d stepped out of Leave It to Beaver . Or maybe Stepford Wives would be a better analogy.
More changes. More and more and more until I felt like I was going to lose what was left of my mind.
“Is something wrong, Katie?” Rachel asked.
“Um. No.” I shook my head a little too long. I could feel myself shaking like an idiot, but I couldn’t seem to stop. It was starting to feel like this wasn’t even my life anymore.
Who had dreamed mundane details were so important? That the color of a door or the arrangement of a classroom or the expected Wednesday chili dog buffet line could mean so much?
Rachel reached out, plucking a dust ball from the end of my hair and flicking it onto the ground. “Listen, Isaac and I talked.” She made the word “talked” sound like a bona fide betrayal. “I know you were upset that I didn’t ask you to be part of the show.”
I was going to kill him. How dare he talk to Rachel about me behind my back? And tell her things I’d never even said, no less? I tried to smile. “No, I wasn’t upset at all. I mean, I’m not upset. Now, or ever.”
“It’s okay. I really would have asked you if it wasn’t a conflict of interest.”
A conflict of interest? What was she talking about?
She swiped an invisible bit of lipstick off the corner of her lips. “I mean, I really wanted this show to have all the hottest senior girls at BHH in it. I told Isaac that, but he still didn’t get it. He just can’t see clearly where you’re concerned. But you understand, right?”
“Oh, yeah. No worries.” I understood completely. She’d thrown the “senior” part in there so it wouldn’t seem like she was being mean, but she was. She knew it, and I knew it. Once again, she was making it clear I wasn’t good enough for Isaac and that he was the only one who hadn’t gotten the memo.
Sarah took a deep breath and discreetly grabbed the strap of my backpack. “Okay, Rachel, I have to go. You can have the keys.” She tossed the keys in a wide arc. For the first time in my life I witnessed Rachel Pruitt suffering from awkward as she snatched them from the air. It was only a second, but it was enough to make me silently pledge my eternal friendship to Sarah Needles. “Lock up the dressing room and the front and back doors to the theater. I’m telling Mr. Geery you’re in charge, so if anything gets stolen, it’s your fault.”
“Thanks, Sarah,” Rachel said, so sweet she’d make sugar taste artificial. “You’ve been a big help. You’re such a good friend to our little Katie. And her boyfriend.”
“Whatever, Rachel.” Sarah spun away, pulling me with her. When she was in stage manager mode, Sarah was confident enough to treat a senior goddess like an equal.
I, however, turned over my shoulder and gave a little wave.
I wasn’t confident enough to snub Rachel. For some stupid reason, I couldn’t bring myself to be rude to the girl who had inferred I was an ugly troll more times than I could remember.
“Don’t let her get to you. You’re gorgeous, way prettier than she
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