a piece of raw carne. He shoots me a look like it’s all my fault before he moves away. It reminds me of Jacy barreling into the street and then turning on me after I yelled at him. Which seems like the start of all my problems with him. Or maybe his problems with me. My breath quickens. How could he not tell me he’s at that private school—
Quentin raps on the front mirror. I look up, startled. I’d completely forgotten where I was.
“All right, luvies. Eyes on me!”
As soon as I get out of Moving Arts, I call Clarissa.
“That dude on the bike sounds pretty cool,” she informs me.
“I don’t know. He’s a lot older.”
“But cute.”
“In a Hells Angels kind of way. Don’t you think it’s creepy? Hooking up with the choreography teacher and hitting on her student at the same time? Because he was definitely flirting, despite what Eva thinks. He’s seen dancergirl, too.”
Clarissa laughs. “Everyone’s seen dancergirl. A hundred thousand views and that’s before Charlie uploaded the new one. First Day of School. I’ll send it to your cell.”
“That many hits? They’re not that good.”
“Sure they are! They’re going to get you from the back row to center stage, and Charlie into USC film school—or beyond.” Clarissa speaks quickly, which she does whenever she gets excited. “But the stuff that Blake kid said means we have to move before people catch on. You need a permanent stylist. I’ll talk to Charlie and see what kind of look he wants. I’m thinking kind of retro—” She takes a breath. “Are you stoked?”
“I guess.”
I’ve reached the curve in the street and look up. Like a lighthouse beacon that either beckons—or warns—Jacy’s bedroom lamp is on.
I can hear them argue, even though I’m in the living room and Jacy’s mom is in his bedroom with the door closed. I tiptoe closer.
“I don’t want to see her,” Jacy says. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
“Jacy, don’t do this.”
When the doorknob turns, I jump back to examine the photos on the wall. Mrs. Strode walks into the room.
“Go on in, Ali,” she says cheerily. “He’s happy you’re here.”
Even if she was an Oscar-winning actress, and I wasn’t an eavesdropping sneak, the lie wouldn’t fly. But I do the same thing she does. Pretend.
“Cool.”
Jacy’s bedroom is brightly lit. Although his hair is as wild as ever, something is different. It takes a moment before it sinks in.
The room. Jacy’s bedroom is always a zoo. Dirty clothes mixed with clean in heaps across the floor. Overflowing garbage can. Stacks of DVDs, notebooks. All kinds of crap piled on the dresser, the desk.
Now everything is neat. Nothing on the floor. Books organized on his shelf. At least two extra lamps.
“I had to clean my room,” he mumbles.
“Looks good.”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“What’s up? I almost went to the FBI to ask them to organize a search party like they did for that Montana teenager. Where’ve you been for ten days? You never told me you were going on vacation. Plus, Charlie said you left WiHi for a private school.” I plop onto his bed. “Is that true?”
He moves to the window and stares at the street. “My dad. He’s never liked public schools.”
I wait but Jacy doesn’t volunteer anything else.
That’s it? Dad never liked public schools?
Before I can explode again, a pair of old-school, amber-tinted sunglasses catch my eye. Jacy probably got them at the Shore, not exactly a hotbed of fashion innovation. Or a particularly pleasant place to be when you spend the entire week being pissed off at your father for making you leave high school during junior year.
“Do you hate it?” I ask softly. “Maybe you can convince your dad to let you come back.” I put on the sunglasses, hoping to make him laugh. “We all miss you, Jace—”
“School’s fantastic. I met a lot of new people, so don’t expect a call or anything.” When he turns, his cheeks pink up. “And put those glasses down. Who do you think you are?”
“Sorry!” I drop the sunglasses onto the desk.
“I’ve got homework—so you should go.”
“Yeah. Sure,” I say.
My eyes sting with tears as I stumble out the door.
Chapter 10
“How could I lose her before I even know her? To this dope! This intellectual pea brain! He’ll never care about her the way I do. He will never understand her. But here I am, destined to be, forever, shyboy101.”
The footage is beautiful—Charlie found the first tree in the park to turn completely yellow—and the anguished voice-over is totally believable. Despite his outwardly geeky appearance, he’s a much better actor than I realized.
Too bad I can’t say the same for Josh. The kissing scene felt so awkward. Of course, with Clarissa standing around fixing our hair, and Sonya enlisted to keep people out of the way, it’s not like we were in a romantic situation. When we finally moved toward each other for the big smooch, Josh stuck his tongue into my mouth.
“Uggh! What are you doing?” I turned to Charlie standing in the bushes forty feet away. “Sorry.”
“Just try again,” he shouted.
I gave Josh my sternest look. “Actors don’t actually kiss. They brush lips.”
“Okay, okay. I get it,” Josh mumbled.
“Action!” Charlie called.
Josh moved toward me and we “kissed”—but then I cracked up.
“What now?” Charlie yelled.
“It tickled.”
“You told me to brush your lips,” Josh said.
“Brush, not sweep with a broom!”
We did the scene several more times. The more we “kissed,” the grumpier Sonya got.
“What’s wrong with that last one, Charlie? It looked fine!”
Now, as I watch Park Date in my bedroom, I wonder if I should talk about Sonya to Josh when she’s not around. See what he says. Although honestly, hurt’s written all over that one in capital letters. The dude is way too into himself to be a decent boyfriend to anyone. I’d hate to see Sonya’s heart permanently tattooed.
I click over to the newest comments on the site. It’s hard to get used to complete strangers discussing me.
She’s hot
Not. check out the fat ass.
So sick of boring girls tryin to get publicity. she cnat even dance.
dreamed she was my lab partner
Sleep on, chem turd. She’s mine.
Weirdest of all, though, are the grown men. I picture Cisco staring at his screen.
forgot how god h.s. chicks r
Chapter 11
I hear the name first. Behind me,