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He leaned to say something to Jessica, and then they both turned to look at me. I quickly averted my gaze.
“Relax,” Angie said. “Why would anyone think you auditioned just to follow Isaac? By that logic, so could Justin.” She grinned. “Anyone who asks, tell ‘em you did it for Mr. Paulson’s extra credit.”
The blood drained from my face. “Mr. Paulson…”
Who was at the front of the class now, beaming a smile right at me.
“Happy Monday, folks. Some announcements; so happy to report that our very own Justin Baker and Willow Holloway have both landed roles in the HCT production of Hamlet.”
He started clapping his hands, encouraging the others to do the same. Half-hearted applause went around but for Angie who slapped her palms together and let out a whoop.
I gritted my teeth. “For real, Angie?”
Mr. Paulson beamed. “You will both be awarded extra credit toward our Poetry and Drama unit this spring.” His smile fell. “And if you could please extend congratulations to Mr. Pearce on our behalf, I would appreciate it.”
He was looking right at me, and the class saw it. I wanted to slink under my desk, my cheeks burning.
You don’t give a shit what anyone thinks, remember?
Only I did. A little. I blamed the thaw in my detachment on Angie. The girl was impossible to dislike and oddly, she’d made me feel normal by doing nothing at all.
I sat up and nodded faintly at Mr. Paulson. Justin craned around and gave me a friendly smile and an inquisitive look, his brows raised. He was gorgeous—nice eyes, strong jaw.
And while he didn’t have the meathead douchebag aura of Ted Bowers, something about him made my stomach tighten instead of tingle with butterflies.
At lunch, I sat with The Greatest People You Will Ever Meet, and they crowed over my casting news.
“Congrats,” Jocelyn said, sitting beside Caroline. Their hands were on the table next to each other, not touching but as close as they dared. “Your first time onstage?”
“Shakespeare, straight out the gate,” Caroline said when I nodded. “That’s not going to be easy.”
“Especially on stage with Isaac,” Nash said, and winced as Angie elbowed him. “What? I’m just telling the truth. The entire cast is going to have to up their game.”
“But Mr. Ford won’t let me fail, right?” I asked. “He’ll put me out of my misery if I’m in over my head.” I looked around. “Right?”
“You’re not goi
ng to fail, you’re going to do great,” Angie said. “Won’t she?”
The others agreed with enthusiasm, and then we all fell silent as Jessica Royce approached our table with two of the Plastics. She flipped a lock of silky dark hair over her shoulder.
“Hey, Willow. Please pass on to Mr. Pearce our sincerest congratulations,” she said, echoing Mr. Paulson almost word for word. “And congrats to you too, on getting a part.”
“Thanks,” I said, trying to channel Isaac’s stony expression.
Jessica’s smile was wide, but it didn’t come anywhere near her eyes. “You have to hand it to her, ladies,” she said to her friends. “Some girls would just ask for a guy’s phone number. Willow takes it to a whole new level.”
The girls tittered and moved on, Jessica twiddling her fingers at me in farewell.
“I thought you said your mean girls weren’t so mean,” I said.
“We’re stale and boring,” Nash said. “You’re fresh blood.”
“I still don’t get why my being in the play has anything to do with Isaac.”
“Jealousy,” Angie said. “The only reason they go see the plays is because of him. He never gave anyone here the time of day, but you just scored yourself a front row seat to the Isaac Show.”
I rolled my eyes. “For fuck’s sake, he’s just a guy. Jesus, even my dad gave me an earful.”
