“Join the party!” Kyle added.
“I'm not in a party mood. Really. Keep going.” Brianna backed away, pantomiming a phone. “I'll callâ”
“Butâ” Before Casey could say another word, Brianna was gone.
Casey felt her adrenaline flow out of her body and down through her toes into the carpet.
Brianna was mad.
But
how
could she be mad? Did she honestly think . . . Casey and Kyle? Okay, the hug must have looked a little cozy. But even if it
were
possibleâabout as likely as the sun and moon deciding to switch placesâdid she really think Casey would try to steal him away in a
practice room
?
“That was weird,” Kyle said, reaching over to flip the song back to the beginning. “Oh, well, let's do it again.”
Casey forced herself to concentrate on the notes. It was ridiculous. She and Brianna were
not
in competition. The idea was absurd. She played through the song and then hit his chord. Kyle got his entrance perfectly and whooped with delight. But as she continued to the next page, he suddenly slapped his forehead. “Oh, damn.”
Casey stopped. “What?”
“I promised Brianna a ride home,” Kyle said. “
That's
why she was acting so strange.”
“Uh-oh.” Casey went out the room and ran out into the hallway. The practice rooms were in the music section, across the hall from the side door of the auditorium. She threw the door open and looked inside, but only Mr. Levin and Mr. Ippolito were there. Mr. Ippolito was grinning.
Mr. Levin gave her a thumbs-up. “Guess what? Mr. Ippolito straightened things out. We're getting a brand-
new
Cyclone fence, compliments of the PTA!”
“Great!” Casey said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “Um, have you two seen Brianna?”
“She left a few minutes ago,” Mr. Levin replied. “She was looking for Kyle.”
“Thanks.”
Casey shut the door and backed into the hallway, where Kyle was waiting. “I am a real ass,” he said.
“Do you think Brianna's mad at
me
?” Casey asked. “Maybe she thinks . . . you and me . . . ?”
“Brianna is cooler than that,” Kyle said with a reassuring kind of chuckle, although the statement did not make Casey feel particularly tingly inside. “Don't worry, Casey. It's totally my fault. A broken promise to ride in a T-Bird? Yo, that's tough to recover from. I'll call her.”
“You will?”
“Yup.” Kyle looked at his watch. “Well, as long as the passenger seat's empty . . . you want a ride?”
It was getting dark out, and tonight her mom was working night shift at the hospital. Casey had her usual qualms about getting into a car. Then again, the temperature had dropped sharply today, and she hadn't been looking forward to the lonely walk home.
He held out his arm. With a smile, Casey took it.
And as they walked toward the door, Kyle pressing her close to his side, she had the funniest feeling. It hit her hard, sort of like discovering, after all these years, that the world actually is banana-shaped.
Was Brianna picking up something that Casey wasn't? Was
Kyle
actually interested in . . .
No. It wasn't possible. Not Kyle. Not her.
Don't flatter yourself, Chang.
As he opened the door, his eyes were wide and unflinching. “You will love this,” he said.
She let in the thoughtâjust for the briefest of moments, she entertained the idea that he might, just might be attracted to her.
And then she let it go.
Some things were just too wild to be true. The world was round. The sun and the moon were where they always were. That's all there was to it.
16
From:
To:
Subject: i can't sleep
October 6, 3:07 A.M.
Â
rachel
Â
weeee yes it's 3 a.m. and i am buzzing buzzing buzzing but thinking clearly and i made the BIG mistake of calling someone last night & waking them up & don't want to do the same to you (someone i actually LOVE and RESPECT) so im sending this e-mail hope you don't mind. you were right, rachel. about kt. i have turned into the kind of girl i hate and don't say i told you so, i can't take that. i shouldn't care about this, ok he's a good singer and oh is he HOTT but lets face it he's flaky and his fingers are full of grease plus his best friends act like they just emerged from caves. so now he and casey are hooking up in the practice rooms and i want to scream. how do i know they were hooking up? because that's what practice rooms are for, i know it from, um, personal experience and admit it, you do too as i recall from those steamy windows when you and bruce greenberg were “practicing.” ok, so kt likes cc. why shouldn't he? what's the big deal? she tries hard, she's smart, and she can play piano for him. okay, i can play piano too but he didn't ask me, besides i'm a lousy sight-reader, but hey, if she wants to show off, that's her choice. what do i care? what bothers me isn't so much THAT. it's the shape-shifting. pretending to be your best friend and then stabbing you in the back. i never trusted her. she sings but doesn't sing, she's shy but bosses people around, she falls apart at a criticism but runs rehearsals. what bothers me is that just when you think you know her she slips through your hands like water. who is she? she is hiding something, i can feel it.
ok, don't yell at me but i searched google for “casey chang” westfield connecticut & came up with nothing. just plain “casey chang”? nada. blog search, myspace, facebook, xanga, waybackmachine, big fat zeroes. well, it's not totally true. i did find a chang in a cast list for fiddler on the roof at westfield high, with a different first name, not casey. but chang is like smith, so that's not too shocking. no one ever friended her? mentioned her? this is the girl kyle is hot forâa person with no identity?
i should call alex duboff, that's it. she knows him. he'd know. the only problem is, i'd have to talk to alex duboff.
oh god, i can't even read this. i feel like a stalker.
burn this e-mail.
Â
B
Â
“Excellent!” Ms. Gunderson called out to Lori, who had not only made a full recovery from the flu but was sounding more and more magnificent. “Take a rest, sweetie. You deserve it.”
As Lori left the stage, Casey unwrapped a big, cakey brownie and took a big bite. Thank God for the Bayview Avenue food truck, this week's best discovery. It had taken until October 9, but better late than never. She glanced at her schedule sheet. A big purple-red blotch covered the second act, the remnant of a spilled Diet Coke. It obliterated a line or two, but she had memorized most of this by now. Swallowing carefully, she called out, “Um, places for âAll Good Gifts'!”
Kyle looked up from his stretching exercises on the stage. “Okay, chief!”
Casey smiled at him and immediately turned away. Her first instinct was to check for Brianna. Brianna hadn't said a word to her since last week. She hadn't been at her locker lately, and during the rehearsals she was always either studying the script or looking in the other direction whenever Casey passed by.
A hundred times Casey had meant to talk to her, but the day-to-day schedule was grueling for the stage manager. The few times she had started to approach Brianna, she'd gotten cold feet.
Kyle didn't seem to have a clue about the friction he was causing. Or maybe he did, but he just didn't care. Either way, she envied him. Of course, envy was the least complicated of the feelings she had for Kyle. Surprisingly, the ride home had been fun, rolling down the roof and singing at the top of their lungs. It hadn't gone any further than that, but she hadn't expected it to, really.
Surely she must have come to her senses by now. Just a moment's thought about the absurdity of it all . . .
Hmmm, let's see: Kyle and the fat, dumpy, insecure girl . . . or Kyle and the talented, beautiful, brilliant one who discovered his talent and changed his life?
Tough call.
Casey took another bite.
“A styrachosaurus,” Charles said, staring over her shoulder.
“Nope, just a brownie,” Casey said.
Charles gave her a look. “That shape on your cue sheet. It's like a Rorschach test, right? Identify the blot? Well, I see a styrachosaurus. You know, the one with all those horns around its crown, the most colorful and stylish of reptiles? The Tommy Hilfiger of the Mesozoic age?”
Casey laughed, pulling flecks of brownie up into her nasal passages. She began coughing violently.
Charles patted her on the back. “Don't do this to me, Casey, I've seen all those posters for the Heimlich maneuver, but I can't remember how to do it!”
“Don'tâ”
Cough, cough.
“Make meâ”
Cough.
“Laugh!”
“QUIET BACKSTAGE!” Brianna's voice shouted from the auditorium.
“Shh, Miss Diva is in a bad mood,” Charles whispered, ushering Casey farther into the wings.
Some of the Charlettes, seeing Casey's condition, dragged a chair over so she could sit. Vijay brought her some bottled water. She sipped it carefully, clearing her throat as quietly as possible, and angling her chair so she could see the stage.
Jamil was singing “All Good Gifts,” one of her favorites. He was a freshman, and his voice hadn't changed yet. It had a pure, sweet quality. He was inexperienced and a little unsure at times, but he was getting stronger by the day.
“Can we stop, please?” Brianna's voice rang out from the house. “Okay, that wasn't bad.”
“Can she curb her enthusiasm?” Charles murmured.
Casey stood up and walked to the edge of the stage, glancing at her schedule. “Let's set up for sceneâ”
“Excuse me.” Brianna was walking purposefully down the aisle. “Can we go back to the top of that last song?”
Jamil cocked his head, baffled. “What'd I do?”
“Your tone is good, Jamil. Really, really sweet. I'd just like to hear it one more time, for pitch.” Brianna pointed to her ear. “I think you're singing a teeny bit flat.”
Mr. Levin glanced at Ms. Gunderson, who replied with an unreadable look of her own.
“I didn't hear anything wrong,” Casey murmured to Charles.
“I could try it again,” Jamil said gamely. “No problem.”
“Brianna,” Mr. Levin said, climbing down from the stage apron, “do you have any
dramatic
notes? Because, in the interest of time, when it comes to musical matters, maybe Ms. Gunderson should make these kinds of callsâ”
“Well, it just seemed pretty obvious,” Brianna said, lowering her voice. “Besides, this is supposed to be a collaborative effort, right? We all help out. Sometimes we see things others don't. Or hear things.”
Ms. Gunderson smiled. “True. Good point. But we're not after perfection, sweetie. The audience isn't that picky about pitch.”
“Fine,” Brianna said with a shrug. “If you feel you can be proud of that performance, fine.” Calmly she turned and walked up the aisle.
“What has gotten into her?” Harrison muttered, jumping off the stage.
Casey followed him. They chased after Brianna and cornered her behind the last row of seats.
“Hello,” Brianna said, flashing them a fake smile. “I have to pee. Would you two like to join me?”
“Brianna, what's up?” Casey asked.
“Nothing's up,” Brianna said. “I just wasn't aware we were relaxing our standards, okay?”
“What are you talking about?” Harrison asked.
“I guess since it's a small musical, since the
New York Times
won't be there on opening night, it's fine to settle for mediocrity . . . ”
“Look, Jamil is a freshman,” Harrison said. “He has a beautiful voice that needs a little coaching, and he's very sensitive. He's also getting more and more confident. We want to make him feel at home with us. What's the point in humiliating him?”
“I didn't humiliate him,” Brianna said. “I was respectful and professional. Which is more than I can say for some of you. You want to make him comfortable? Then don't lie to him! Don't tell him he's perfect when he's singing flat! You did that to Kyle and now you're doing it to Jamil. You want him to find out the truth from the audience? He has potential, and our job is to help him live up to it.”
“Brianna, this isn't such a big deal,” Harrison said. “Sometimes it's best to give a performer some time. Let them find their way. It worked with Kyleâhis singing improved, right?”
“He didn't find his way all by himself,” Brianna said, pointedly looking at Casey. “Now excuse me.”
She wiggled between them, toward the door. Harrison began following her, then gave a disgusted wave and came back.
Casey's legs locked.
Brianna
was
mad at her. Those comments had been meant for her. Brianna was pissed about the practice room.
“Don't worry,” Harrison said, placing his hand gently on Casey's arm. “She gets like this sometimes. It's usually in the middle of the rehearsal period, when she thinks the show is going to tank. Plus, she's probably frustrated
she
can't be onstage. She'll be okay in a few minutes. She'll apologize to you and Jamil.”
“I'm not so sure,” Casey said softly.
“I guarantee it,” Harrison said, heading back to the stage.
Casey slipped out into the hallway and eyed the girls' room. Brianna was still in there. The thought of confronting her made Casey's stomach hurt. She needed something in it. She darted down the hallway and around the corner to the cafeteria snack machine.