Kasey Screws Up the World (33 page)

“No. Keep it on.” I raised my eyebrows a few times in succession.

He dropped the guitar back onto his shoulders, ran a hand through his hair, and brushed past me. He loped a few steps before amping his pace toward the group of girls Denise stood with. The girls lifted their heads to him as he tapped Denise on the back. The biggest smile creased her face and she held up a finger indicating one second to the other girls before following Lonnie back toward the band’s set up. I scurried over to the bleachers to give them privacy. The two of them chatted for a few minutes, and though I couldn’t hear what they said, I knew their conversation would be punctuated with a lot of smiles, jokes, and the spark of something brewing between them.

Lara stopped explaining the routine to one of the girls who lagged behind and headed over to me. She rested her crutches against the tiers of the bleachers. With one hand on her hip, she lowered herself next to me, and I knew from the expression on her face that this must hurt.

My pulse raced. If she was voluntarily coming to sit with me, maybe she didn’t hate me anymore after reading the blog.

“Jeez, how long does it take the band to set up?”

Ignoring the blog subject was probably a bad sign. I swallowed hard. “Give them a few more minutes.” Lonnie’s other band members were standing around, adjusting their instruments, while Lonnie and Denise chatted.

She waited ten more seconds before clapping her hands together. “We’re not going to be better than Ali’s group unless we practice, people!”

Everyone groaned. Denise waved goodbye to Lonnie and joined the other girls. Lonnie’s drummer smashed a cymbal that cued his band to start. Lonnie whaled on his guitar. He really did look good in pink.

I glanced over at my sister. She kept her eyes on the performance, obviously wanting to make sure no one slacked off. I shifted in my seat to try to get her attention. She scooted an inch away from me. The air felt thick and claustrophobic despite the giant ceilings. My brain screamed the obvious next step:
ask her about the blog!
My mouth took the opportunity to stall with flattery. “You’re doing a great job. The college recruiters are going to be so impressed.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “I think so too,” she said before yelling at Nikki to keep pace with the other girls.

I searched my nails for something to bite. I’d regaled the whole school with the truth. This was just a simple question. Even simpler than the mysterious one Finn wanted from me. I knew what I had to ask. Before I could chicken out again, I swiveled to face my sister. “So…um…the blog?”

“Kasey, I don’t know if I’ll ever be over what happened.” She rested her elbows on her knees. “But I feel like I haven’t lost everything now.”

“I hope you know how sorry I am. I shouldn’t have embarrassed you or said such mean things. I was jealous, and I messed up. But I never imagined you’d get hurt.” I touched her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to ruin your life.”

“I know.” She met my eyes. “I get that now.”

All the atoms in my body were dancing. And for now, this kind of dancing felt right. “So are we good, then?”

Lara didn’t answer right away, and I started to feel like she wasn’t going to. “We’re getting there.”

“YOU EXCITED?” I ASKED my sister. She was still wearing sweats, and we had to leave for the fundraiser in an hour. She usually needed two hours to get ready.

She made a whiny noise, which I took for a no.

I sat down next to Lara on the couch. She didn’t shoo me away. She only did that to our parents nowadays. “Lara, I know you wish it was you up there, but your choreography is amazing.”

She pushed herself upright using the arm of the couch as leverage. “Of course it is. That’s not what I’m upset about.”

“Then what?”

She pulled at the bottom of my light blue dress, the same one I wore to formal night on the cruise. “You’re wearing that?”

“You don’t think this is cute?” I spun around like a dog trying to chase his tail, wondering what was wrong with my outfit. “Hey!” I pointed a finger at her when what she said caught up with me. “Way to change the subject.”

She leaned forward and grabbed her phone, scrolling through it as she spoke. “I think you should match the other girls. They wouldn’t be performing if it weren’t for you. I’m going to match them too.” She held up the phone to show me the outfit she’d picked out with Denise for the team to wear instead of their usual dance uniforms. They were afraid Ali’s group would wear those too. They decided to wear black skirts of the dancer’s choice, a blue top in any shade for school spirit, and tights. Matching without being matchy matchy.

“I don’t have any tights.”

“Wait here.” She limped toward the stairs, using only one crutch for support. She healed fast when she stayed away from dancing.

I didn’t hold my breath for her to come back, but when she returned ten minutes later, an armful of clothes and makeup jostled in her arms. She dumped the pile of cosmetics onto the couch and plucked a pair of turquoise tights with a slight run in the toe off the pile. “You have something that matches this, right?”

I nodded. It wouldn’t be a perfect match, but close enough.

Lara pressed a finger to her lips as she studied the make up. “Okay, for the turquoise, I’m thinking soft silvers.”

She tilted my head back and made me close my eyes. I didn’t fight it or question it. I made myself stay as still as a statue, afraid even the slightest movement would pop the dream bubble. My lungs strained as I held my breath, only allowing oxygen to escape through my nose while Lara turned to dip her brush into another colorful pot.

She squinted one eye and studied my face. It was the perfect moment for me to ruin everything. “I miss hanging out like this, you making me over. Remember?”

She fiddled with the cap to her mascara. “Here, put some more of this on. I have to get ready myself.” She hurried out of the room before I could say anything else.

Lara and I arrived at ManPrep early for the fundraiser. Her leg rattled through the entire cab ride, as did mine. I paid both our entrance fees and even a little something extra. Anything to help Denise’s team out.

The red canvas seats didn’t look nearly as plush as the velvet ones from Lara’s Broadway audition, and the wooden stage showcased years of scuff marks and paint splatters. It wasn’t the same, but nothing would ever be again.

Lara and I set our stuff down in the front row on top of the ballot sheets already resting on the seats for the audience vote for the winner. She wanted to be close to the action in case anyone needed help with the choreography, like a stage manager calls out lines from backstage during a play. I stood up to watch the audience stream in.

Lonnie walked in hand in hand with Denise. He wore a pink shirt and boy did he look good in pink. He nodded hello to me and I waved back. Denise pointed at their joined hands and I gave them both a thumbs up. My former best friend and my current one. They were perfect together.

I looked down at my own empty hand. Some day it would be full again.

“See Mom and Dad?” Lara asked, craning her neck behind her.

I bit my lip. “Not yet.” I didn’t want to add, “Why would we?” They weren’t coming. We both knew that. In another life, my heart would have ached at that thought, but not anymore. I had no more room in my chest to allow that kind of pain back in.

“See any agents? Famous Broadway directors? Anyone I should try to introduce myself to?”

I doubted they would wear signs advertising their chosen careers. They looked just like us, except they held hidden power to turn us from high school students with talent into stars.

“I see people in suits, does that count?” I kicked her shin lightly with my foot. “And you won’t need to introduce yourself after this. Everyone will know your name.”

She straightened her shoulders and nodded.

The lights dimmed and I took my seat. Only about seventy five-percent of chairs had been filled. I shouldn’t have left most of the advertising up to the fundraiser committee the guidance counselor had set up. A few measly posters hung around the school and a morning announcement every day this week. I should have cornered every single student and threatened to ruin their life if they didn’t attend. With my past, that would have been a pretty scary threat.

Principal Somers walked up the stage steps into the center. The production was as rinky dink as the cruise. “Welcome everyone to Manhattan Preparatory’s first annual School Group Talent Competition and College Recruitment Fundraiser.”

The audience clapped on cue.

“Please make sure to check out the art gallery and visit the college admissions tables and talent agency booths set up in the cafeteria across the hallway.”

That earned even more cheers.

“Before we begin, there’s one person I must thank for coming up with the idea. Please join me in gratitude to Kasey Fishbein.” She searched the audience, pressing her glasses up her nose to aid her vision. “Kasey, can you stand up?”

My knees threatened to buckle as I pushed myself out of the seat and turned around to face the audience. A giant spotlight shone in my eyes and I had to squint, covering my forehead with my hand. The applause was deafening but I could still hear my sister whisper, “Own it,” for my ears only.

When I sunk back into the seat, my heart was pumping at record speeds. Even in the darkness of the auditorium, I was sure the smile on my face glowed.

We sat through performances by the orchestra, the marching band, the acapella group, the choir, the steppers, and several other teams. Each one was more talented than the next. I’d forgotten this wasn’t just a competition between Ali’s JV dance team and the Varsity one.

I’d thought Ali’s team would take the stage wearing our usual sparkly blue dance team uniforms. They must have decided those uniforms utilized too much fabric because instead they came out in their underwear. Literally. They wore skimpy boy shorts and opaque bras that earned equal amounts of gasps and hoots from the audience.

Lara leaned into me. “We should have thought of that.”

But I just shook my head. “We’re going to win on talent, not shock effect.”

The music started pumping through the speakers and from the first beat, Lara and I turned to each other. It was the Katy Perry song from the cruise. Ali wore a devilish smirk on her face, directed right at us.

This song was getting old. And the groans coming from the audience said the feeling was mutual.

The girls on the JV team formed a V formation with Ali at the center. In the second row stood Lara’s friend Jules, who had graduated the year before, but that didn’t seem to stop her. She poked out of the formation just enough so that she was still in line but the audience had a better view of her. Her trademark headband bow flopped to the side of her face and covered her eyes as she gyrated. Lara used to be that desperate, hijacking anything she could to get noticed.

They swayed their hips and dipped their heads in unison. Their hands performed a mime routine with the air. On the beats they popped and locked in various camera poses. Each swivel of their hips and step of their feet was familiar. The entire routine was recycled from various other routines we’d performed over the years. And all of them had been ones that Lara had choreographed herself.

Ali probably thought she was some ingénue with the way she edited it all together, but she was only a performer, not an inventor. However, the college recruiters wouldn’t know that. They’d see the nice lines her body made, the way her arms locked in position, the way she smashed every beat with a shake of her hips. She could dance, all right.

Just as her group twirled in succession, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see Denise and Lonnie standing in the aisle, silhouetted by the overhead stage lights. Ali narrowed her eyes at them for daring to do anything but watch her performance.

Denise bent down and whispered in my ear. “Come on, we have to get backstage. We’re on next.”

Lonnie wore a goofy smile on his face.

A pang formed deep within my gut. “You guys don’t need me anymore. You know the routine. You’re going to be awesome.”

“You’re an idiot.” Lara squeezed my arm. “That whole time people haven’t been reading the blog for me. They were reading it for you.”