Everyone's a Critic by Rachel Wise Page B

Hailey’s. Mom gave a little beep and Hailey came running out. She had just showered, and her hair was still wet and spiky and her cheeks all rosy. She’d even dressed up a bit, which Hailey hardly ever did. She wore a pretty turquoise sweater and her good jeans. She looked great. I waved from the car and smiled, and she waved and smiled back. Good sign. She climbed into the backseat.
    â€œHow are you?” I said as Mom started to drive again.
    â€œGood,” she said. “Mrs. Martone, thanks for the ride.”
    â€œMy pleasure,” said Mom, and we drove for a minute in silence. Then Mom asked Hailey about soccer and they got into a big conversation about how some of the away games had been going and which other schools had the best teams and so forth. I was relieved Hailey and I didn’t have to make awkward conversation the whole time. I checked and made sure I had my notebook so I could jot down some notes during the play.
    When we go to the high school, lots of people were gathered outside the auditorium.
    â€œWow,” Mom said. “A great turnout!” The drama club plays are always a big deal, but it seemed like the entire town was here.
    â€œYeah!” Hailey said.
    We walked in, and my mom went to stand in line and pick up the tickets she had already ordered.
    I decided to just come out with it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
    â€œIt’s okay. I’m sorry if I overreacted. I guess I got carried away with the Michael stuff.”
    â€œNo, never,” I said, joking.
    â€œTo tell you the truth, I’ve been a little jealous.”
    â€œJealous? Jealous of what? My endless crush on Michael Lawrence that never seems to go anywhere?”
    â€œYeah, kind of. I mean, I’ve just never felt that way about a guy.”
    â€œWhat about Scott? What about Danny?” I asked, mentioning her past crushes.
    â€œI don’t even know what those were. And I’m not really friends with them anymore—I mean, not good friends. Even if you and Michael aren’t exactly dating, you have a real friendship. Other than me, he’s practically your best friend.” She looked down. I was afraid she might even start crying.
    â€œHailey, why didn’t you tell me you felt this way before?”
    â€œSometimes it’s hard to tell the truth,” she said, glancing up at me and looking guilty.
    â€œAh, yeah, just a little,” I said, and we both started laughing.
    â€œMichael and I may be friends, but you’re in a class by yourself!” I said, and we hugged.
    My mom walked back from the ticket line and saw us hugging.
    â€œWish I had my camera,” she said. “I got the tickets; let’s go.”
    We walked into the auditorium. It was going to be a full house. People were everywhere, and more people kept walking in. There was so much buzz and energy. I wondered what Allie was doing right now. Hopefully, she was taking a lot of deep breaths. Even though she had been hard to take lately, I couldn’t believe she had the guts to sing and dance in front of all these people. I could never do it. When Hailey slid past me to get to her seat, Mom touched me on the shoulder and smiled. “See, you guys just needed a little time,” she whispered. I nodded.
    We had great seats—third row, center. We arranged our coats and got comfortable. Then the lights went down. A hush fell over the crowd.
    The director came onstage and stood in front of the curtain. “Good evening,” he said. “Welcome to our drama club’s performance of West Side Story . Please shut off all cell phones, cameras, and videodevices. Most important, enjoy the show!”
    The lights went down again and the curtain went up. A big number for guys was first. The dancing was great and the outfits popped against the multicolored lighting. There was a huge backdrop of a New York cityscape behind them. The dancers