Born to Perform

Chapter 8

It's the day after the not-a-date and now my anger has melted away and I just feel empty again. Why does reputation have to mean so much to people? Musical theatre dictates my life - I've never cared what other people thought of me as long as I can still perform.

It's so weird not talking to Sam. We had two lessons together where we just sat next to each other in silence. It feels like I've lost a friend, possibly forever. By now, I would usually have at least one text from him telling me where the West Side Story rehearsal would be with a cute joke. Wait, what are we going to do in West Side Story? We can hardly play Tony and Maria when we're barely on speaking terms with each other. And of course, Elisha will be trying to rub it in my face as much as possible that she is the one that he chose and not me.

I put my books in my locker, so deep in thought that I don't notice Cassie and Sienna sneak up behind me.

"How's our little love bug?" Sienna chirps, obviously expecting good news. How wrong she is.

"Did he break up with Elisha and ask you out? When's the wedding?" Cassie giggles.

"There's not going to be a wedding," I sigh, shutting my locker and walking to class with my friends. "He said he can't be with me because it would ruin his reputation." Just the thought of it makes me want to cry again.

"What a jerk!" Sienna shrieks, outraged.

"He's probably just scared of dating the most talented girl in the school," Cassie says, squeezing my hand for reassurance.

"How dare he lead you on like that, though! He needs teaching a lesson!" she threatens, getting that crazy look in her eye that usually means she's going to hit someone and scream swear words in Spanish.

"Calm down, Sienna, you don't need to teach anyone anything," I sigh in defeat. "I just wish he could see that, even though it won't make him popular, being with me would make him happy."

We all sigh in unison. Why do guys have to be so complicated? Suddenly, Cassie gasps and swings round to stand in front of us.

"I know what we need!" she starts flapping her hands like she's banging on an invisible drum. She always does that when she's excited about something. "We need a sleepover!"

I look at Sienna. We're both thinking the same thing.

"YES!" we all squeal together, jumping and hugging. We are so girly sometimes.

*******

That Friday, we all meet outside school with our bags. We pick up milkshakes from a cafe and walk back to Cassie's house, giggling at each other's jokes. Cassie lives about ten minutes away from my house in a gorgeous neighbourhood of towering houses with luscious green lawns. Her house is the largest of them all, built out of glowing limestone and decorated with beautiful hanging baskets overflowing with colourful flowers. I look at Sienna with wide eyes.

"I know," she replies with an amused nod.

Cassie swings the door open and dumps her school bag as soon as she enters.

"Hey Mom! Hey Dad!" she calls out into the depths of the house. Two faint voices call back their greetings. I just cannot get over the size of this house. It is colossal.

Cassie leads us up a marble staircase into her bedroom. It is the size of my living room. And my house isn't exactly small. The room is painted in deep red and cream and she has an enormous king size bed with an huge assortment of cushions piled on top of it. The walls are hung with canvases of flowers and in one corner there is a massive flat screen TV and three bean bags.

"Wow. Just wow," I breathe as I examine the room and wonder if I am dreaming.

"What do you think?" Cassie asks, smiling. I am lost for words.

"Well, I love it!" Sienna says as she flops down into the pool of cushions, "But I've been here millions of times before!" Her voice is muffled by the stack of pillows. Cassie beckons me over to a chest of drawers.

"What's inside?" I ask, puzzled. She leans in conspiratorially.

"Are you ready?" she says. I nod. She opens the top drawer to reveal a huge stash of sweets, chocolates and biscuits. Am I dreaming? Are you sure I'm not dreaming?

"Do you think it's enough?" she asks jokingly. I could slap her. Actually I do slap her but only a little bit on the arm. It's only half past four and I can already tell that this is going to be the best sleepover ever.