--- AMY ---
“What was all that about?” said Jadine, as she tucked into her lunch.
“No idea,” said Amy, sipping her Diet Coke. So far today she’d been ignored by Derren, yelled at by Derren, and humiliated by Derren. This was not how she’d imagined her 21st Birthday!
Not that she’d actually told anyone it was her birthday. She didn’t want anyone to know she was turning the grand old age of 21. She’d managed to niftily avoid revealing her age when the topic had come up with the girls the other day. She had no intention of revealing that she was actually five years older than the youngest in the group – Rhian.
She’d even told her mum and dad not to send any birthday cards or presents to the house. Her mum had taken some persuading, as she didn’t think it was right that Amy shouldn’t get any presents on her birthday, but Amy had promised to visit them at the weekend to make up for it. She’d just have to prepare herself for the inevitable disappointed looks from her dad whenever she talked about the band.
“You’ve worked with Derren before right?” asked Molly.
“Yes,” said Amy.
“And was he a total dickhead then, too?” asked Jadine.
“I think he’s alright,” said Rhian.
“Rhian, you think he’s a bit of alright,” laughed Jadine. “That’s very different.”
Amy and Molly chuckled.
“It’s his job to tell us what to do,” snipped Olivia.
The other girls shared a look and carried on eating. Amy was surprised that Olivia had joined them for lunch. She’d headed off on her own for the past three days. Amy suspected Molly might have had a word with her and gently suggested that she come along and be part of the group.
Molly had also asked Amy and Jadine to make a special effort and at least try to be nice to Olivia. Not that it was easy. Olivia seemed to do everything within her power to annoy and irritate everyone she came into contact with. After four days of rehearsals, Amy could at least appreciate part of the reason Sherri had chosen Olivia to be in the group – she was an amazing dancer (not that Amy would ever tell her that), her singing voice was decent, and her ‘look’ really complemented the rest of the group – she was the classy, sophisticated one. (Although Amy still preferred to think of her as the stuck-up one.)
Amy glanced at her watch – they had ten minutes until they had to be back for more torture from Derren.
“I’m going to head back and brush up on my moves,” she said.
“There’s no need,” sighed Molly. “You were perfect. I don’t know why he’s giving you such a hard time.”
“Maybe it’s because he knows I can take it,” shrugged Amy.
“It’ll be different when we start doing our own material,” said Jadine. “We’ll have more input then.”
“Fingers crossed,” said Amy, as she swung her bag over her shoulder and headed back to the Dance Studios. She didn’t have any intention of practicing anything - she wanted to find Derren and ask why the hell he was on her case! They’d agreed to cool their relationship for a while, so that no one would suspect anything, but this was getting too much.
She peered through the window in the rehearsal room door and saw him on his phone. Bingo! As she breezed in, she saw Derren imperceptibly flinch.
“Yeah, Sherri, they’re doing pretty well,” said Derren. “Don’t worry. They’ll be ready. Okay, I’ll keep you up to date. Bye darling.” Derren hung up.
“You sound pretty pleased with us,” smiled Amy.
“Well, got to keep the boss happy,” said Derren.
“I thought you’d tell her that I was…what was it? Oh yes…half-heartedly shambling around?
Derren at least had the decency to look bashful. “Was that too much?”
“A little,” said Amy.
“Look, you were off the beat…”
Amy started to protest.
“…but I apologise for how I said it,” he said softly. “I just don’t want anyone to think I’m giving you any special treatment.”
“Trust me,” smiled Amy. “No one thinks that. If anything, everyone wonders why you’re being such a dickhead!”
“Fine. I’ll tone it down,” said Derren. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll give you an easy ride. Any of you. I’ve got a job to do and I always deliver the best.”
“Fair enough,” said Amy. “But maybe there’s something else you could tone down.” She didn’t know how Derren would take this, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“Oh yeah?” he asked.
She waivered for a moment, then finally blurted it out. “Your little crush on Molly.”
Derren laughed. “What are you talking about?”
“I can tell you like her.”
“I like all of you.
“So are you saying you don’t fancy Molly?”
“I bawled her out this morning didn’t I?”
“That doesn’t fill me with confidence,” said Amy. “You’ve been bawling me out all week!”
“Hey,” said Derren. “You know we need to keep it strictly professional until we know where this is going?”
“Where what’s going? The group?” Amy hesitated. “Or us?”
She hadn’t meant to pressure Derren into talking about their relationship. She knew that would make him back off in a flash, but she couldn’t help it.
There was a long silence as they held each other’s gaze - Amy willing him to reassure her that he still wanted her; Derren at a loss for what to say. Finally he broke away and started fiddling with his phone.
“Amy, I thought we were on the same page…”
Without him having to say another word, Amy had got an answer – just not the one she wanted.
“We are on the same page,” said Amy, determined not to come over as a pining lovelorn wreck. “We had fun and now…we’re done!”
“Maybe in a couple of months we could…”
“Maybe,” said Amy, pushing back her shoulders and nonchalantly flicking her hair.
Just then, the rest of the girls bustled in. Amy hurried to the back of the room and pretended to rifle through her bag. She could feel Derren’s eyes on her but she couldn’t trust herself to look up.
“So ladies,” announced Derren. “Ready for more?”
“Definitely,” enthused Rhian, making Jadine and Molly chuckle.
“And don’t worry,” said Derren. “I’ll go easy on you this afternoon.”
“Don’t do us any favours,” joked Molly.
As Amy looked up, she couldn’t help notice that as Molly turned away, Derren carried on staring at her. It was only for a second. A nano-second. But he did it all the same and Amy knew. No matter what Derren said, he did fancy Molly and his line about keeping it strictly professional was just an excuse.
“Amy, are you ready?” asked Derren.
“Of course,” she snapped.
“Cos if you need a bit longer,” he said without a hint of sarcasm, “I’m happy to wait.”
Great! Now Derren was going to talk to her like she was a five year old. She’d prefer it if he went back to yelling. At least she could handle that. His pity, just made her feel worse.
“I’m fine,” she said curtly.
As they launched into the routine, Amy’s heart sank – she’d finally made it into a bone fide pop group and this should be her happiest birthday ever. But it wasn’t. She felt old, passed over and pitied. Surely no one could be having a worse birthday than her?