All the Way (9 page)

Oh, well. I was starved, and there wasn't really anything else for me to do, so I gathered up my stuff and started to head out. On the way out of the auditorium, Tyler caught my arm and stopped me.

“Are you going to be in the chorus?” he asked.

“No, Mr. Richards asked me to do costumes instead.”

“Even better. I like the idea of you picking out my clothes,” he said, flirting. “So we should hang out or something. Maybe you can help me run lines.”

“Definitely!” I said, shooting him my most willing smile.

“Good.” He grinned back, then reached out and picked up the tail end of my navy hoodie that I was about to drop again.

“Thanks,” I said, then spun around and bounced out the door, happier than I'd been all year.

Forget Joey Perrone, his stupid lies, and his outrageous blog, I decided.

Tyler North liked me! And I was going to run the costume department for the musical! It looked like the last part of my senior year wasn't going to suck after all.

 

 

 

It's not like all my problems suddenly went away when I got the job on the musical. I was subjected to a few lecherous laughs in the hall outside of English class, another sticky on my locker with another phone number (only this one was a fake, because no real phone number has that many sixty-nines in it), and Ryan Marciolla (Joey's best friend) following me around between every class, begging me to go out with him.

But the good news was that I just didn't care that much. I wasn't going to let them get to me. All I wanted to do was make it through the day and show up for the first musical rehearsal after school—because that's where my life would be really happening from now on.

When I finally walked into the auditorium, Emily Pendleton was waiting for me off in a corner, all excited.

“Look what I found!” she said. She held up an old Salvation Army-style drum. “Won't this be great for Sergeant Sarah Brown? I spent the whole weekend prowling through junk shops in Akron.”

“Cool.” I nodded approvingly. I loved how excited she was. Her whole face lit up when she talked about things that interested her.

“I hope you don't mind, I got this hat, too,” she said meekly. “I know costumes are your thing, but I couldn't resist it.”

She thrust a bright blue satin pillbox hat at me. It had a veil, and the most amazing pale blue silk flower on one side.

“I love it,” I said.

“Sorry if I'm stepping on your toes or anything.” She was so apologetic.

“Don't be silly,” I said. “It's fabulous! You did the right thing.”

I swear to God, I think this girl would apologize to plants. Most of the cast members had straggled in and were milling around, talking, waiting for Mr. Richards to get things rolling. He clapped his hands to quiet everyone down.

“Chorus girls onstage,” he called. “Everyone else, work on your lines.”

“Let's go sit in the back,” I whispered, motioning to Emily. “I want to watch the rehearsal, scope out some ideas.”

“Okay,” she said, slightly reluctantly. From the look on her face, I could tell she was calculating whether or not she would be invisible enough in the back row.

I could feel her relaxing as soon as we slouched down in the seats. The auditorium was dark, and we could whisper about everyone without being heard.

Onstage, Mr. Richards was having Stella Macaffrey work out some choreography for the Hot Box girls. Off to the side, Tyler and Natalie were working on their first scene.

“She's pretty,” Emily said, watching Natalie with envy. “I can see why Mr. Richards picked her.”

“Yeah,” I agreed halfheartedly.

“Oh, wait!” Emily was all flustered. “Did you want that part? I mean, I thought you went out for Miss Adelaide. I mean, I wasn't saying she was prettier than you or anything.”

“It's okay,” I said. “It's not so much that I wanted her part. I wanted what she's got.”

“You mean her voice?”

“I mean her leading man,” I admitted. I felt safe telling Emily things. She wasn't the gossipy type.

“Ohhhh. Yeah. He's definitely cute.”

“He's way hot,” I muttered, letting my real feelings show. “And funny. He's hilarious in Mrs. Raymer's class.”

Wow,
I thought. I suddenly realized something: Emily wasn't treating me like she thought I was a slut. Was that because she hadn't read Joey's blog? Was she just too out of the loop to have heard the rumors?

Or was she taking me at face value, without assuming all the gossip was true?

“You should go after him,” she said, still watching Tyler.

“I'm working on it,” I admitted. For some reason, I suddenly wanted to pour my heart out to Emily. “I'm hoping I'll get to hang out with him during rehearsals, and then maybe we'll go out or something, and then . . .”

Did I dare say it out loud?

“What?”

“I've been secretly fantasizing that he'll ask me to the prom,” I whispered, leaning close to her to make sure no one else would hear.

“That would definitely be cool,” she said. “He seems like your type.”

I turned to eye her. “Just what do you think my type is?”

“Nice,” she said. “And confident, like you.”

“What about you?” I said. “Are you going to the prom?”

“Oh God, I'd love to,” she whispered. “I've never gone. But I'm not counting on it.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged. “Guys aren't into me,” she said matter-offactly.

“They
should
be,” I said, and I meant it. “You're really pretty, and you look amazing when your face lights up. Guys just need to get to know you. You should . . . I don't know . . . work on it. Maybe highlight your hair or something?”

I was trying to be tactful.
Totally change your hair, try wearing some makeup, and do a massive makeover on that baggy wardrobe
was what I was really thinking.

She had tons of potential. She just needed someone to help her pull it out.

“Do you think?” Her voice was really tiny. She looked over at me in the dark, waiting for my pronouncement. “I mean, would highlights make that much of a difference?”

“Let's go shopping sometime and see what we can do,” I said. “I'll help you pick out a killer outfit and show you what color highlights would work. But the real question is: who are you going to use it on? I mean, if you could pick any guy to go to the prom with—other than Tyler, of course, don't even think about going after him—who would it be?”

“I can't think of anyone,” she said.

Just then, David poked his head through the stage curtains. I guess he was trying to see what was going on out front.

“What about him?” I said, pleased as punch with my big bright idea.

“Who?” She had no idea who I was talking about.

“David.” I pointed in the dark toward the stage. “He's nice . . .”

“He's obviously in love with you,” she cut me off. “I saw him on Friday, stalking you backstage. He's been in love with you since economics.”

This girl notices everything.

“Okay, well, anyway. We'll have to think of someone.” She didn't answer. I think she figured that getting a date for the prom was pretty much hopeless.

On the stage, Stella Macaffrey was doing some really cool stuff with the Hot Box girls, but the rest of the auditorium was in chaos. Most of the cast members were just hanging out, goofing off, or having fun with it. I saw Jacob and Becca read through a few lines from the script and then laugh and start playing around, making up their own dialogue.

Tyler and Natalie were off in their own corner, too far away for me to hear. From the looks of it, though, they weren't really working on lines. More like having a private conversation. She had her megawatt smile turned on and was staring up at him like he was a rock star or something. I couldn't see his face, as he had his back to me.
Damn.

“You realize we've been talking so much, I haven't heard a word of the rehearsal or gotten a single idea for costumes,” I said.

“So what? That just gives you an excuse to hang out at rehearsal again tomorrow,” Emily said, shooting me a knowing grin.

Yeah. More Tyler time. Was I complaining?

Finally Mr. Richards called it quits. “Okay, people, we aren't making much progress here. Main cast, I want you all to learn your first scene by heart for tomorrow, so you can go off book for at least one scene. Chorus girls, come in here ready to sing ‘Bushel and a Peck' without lead sheets. Chorus boys, I want you ready to sing ‘Guys and Dolls.' Okay—that's it for today, but tomorrow we've got to buckle down and really get to work.”

I stood up and tried to think of some excuse to walk past Tyler, who was still up front talking to Natalie.

“Um, you want me to put that hat in the costume trunk?” I offered, picking up the blue pillbox hat Emily had bought.

“Oh, I can do it,” she said.

“I don't mind.” I practically grabbed it from her. “I want to see what else is in those trunks anyway.”

“Whatever,” she said. “I'll put the drum in the props closet.”

She got up and took the most unobtrusive path she could find, slipping down the side aisle toward the door that led backstage. I marched straight down the center aisle so I'd have to cross in front of Tyler on my way.

“Hey,” he said as soon as he saw me, turning away from Natalie, who didn't budge. He noticed the tiny hat in my hands. “Nice hat.”

“It's for you,” I joked. “I thought Sky Masterson could use a nice little pillbox to bring out his softer side.”

Tyler laughed, but I glanced at Natalie, and the chill coming off her glare was so cold, it could have given me frostbite. “So you want to go out for coffee?” he said. “I mean, maybe we need to discuss my costume in a little more detail.”

“Sure!” I jumped at the invitation. “But don't think I'm going to change my mind about the hat,” I teased. “My costume design integrity is worth a lot more than a mocha latte.”

“Not even if I throw in whipped cream?” he flirted.

Natalie put her foot down at that. “Tyler, I hope you're not talking about going out
now
. I thought we were going to keep working and run lines together.”

Tyler looked trapped, like he didn't know what to say. “Um, I think Mr. Richards is kicking us out of here,” he said, meaning the school would be closing up. What were they supposed to do?

“Yeah, but
we
could go out for coffee. We could work on our scene at Murphy's,” she said, naming the best coffee place in town. She softened her voice a little, so she wouldn't sound like such a demanding bitch. “I mean, I just don't want to make a fool of myself in front of everyone tomorrow . . .”

What could he say? He wasn't going to let his costar down.

“Okay.” He turned to me. “Rain check?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged.

“Promise?” He reached out and tugged on my sleeve. “Tomorrow after rehearsal, okay? We'll get coffee?”

I smiled. “Okay.”

He looked at the blue pillbox hat in my hands again. “And don't make any hasty decisions about my costume until I have a chance to ply you with a double mocha, extra whipped cream, and all the scones you can eat.”

“Okay,” I laughed.

Natalie glared at me, and I had to work very, very hard to suppress a triumphant smile.

I should get three Oscars. I mean, seriously.

 

 

 

“So you want your usual?” the girl behind the counter at Murphy's asked Tyler when he and I showed up for coffee the next afternoon.

She raised an eyebrow, her eyes darting back and forth from him to me.

“Yeah.” Tyler laughed at her, like she couldn't push his buttons no matter how hard she tried. “Call me crazy, but I can actually drink a straight black house blend two days in a row.”

I tossed my hair over my shoulders and stood extra tall—which for me was just barely tall enough to be seen over the counter. I wanted this evil spawn barista to see how hot I looked in my tight little gray V-neck sweater and burgundy corduroy pants.

“Same for me,” I said.

“Whoa! What about the whipped cream I promised you?” Tyler said.

“I'm immune to your bribes,” I said. “Or let's say you're going to have to do better than that.”

At least I hadn't forgotten how to flirt.

“Hmmm,” he said, pretending to consider my offer. He stroked his chin dramatically. “I wonder what, exactly, Carmen Salgado would succumb to? No—don't tell me! Let me guess.”

“Your coffee's ready,” the barista interrupted.

We grabbed our coffees and found a place to sit in one of the old, overstuffed sofas that filled the corners of Murphy's. I loved the place, I had to admit. There were bookshelves all around the walls filled with books you could read if you wanted to but no one ever did and tons of board games: checkers, Scrabble, Candyland, Parcheesi. I had always wanted to sit on one of the comfy couches, drinking coffee with someone and taking a game of Candyland way too seriously. Someone other than Rachel or Ariel, I mean.

But right now, I was having too much fun just talking to Tyler. I didn't even glance at the board game shelf.