to him. “Anyway, too bad your brilliant plan to get popular backfired. Looks like no one gives a fuck about you. No one even commented on the last two posts!”
“I didn’t start the blog to get popular. It’s for you guys, not me.”
Denise stood ramrod straight, perfecting her victory at the silent treatment. She looked everywhere except the guitar case in Lonnie’s hands.
“And everyone else is only reading to watch you fail.” Ali gave me one more exaggerated roll of her eyes before she stalked past me, her swagger accentuated in the swing of her hips.
Denise hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and took a step in Ali’s direction—in my direction—but I grabbed the hem of her shirtsleeve. “Did you read it?”
She stopped despite the flimsy hold I had on her. Minutes passed. Hours. The crowd that had gathered started to disperse. Finally, Denise sighed and turned to me. The happy carefree expression she always wore melted into droopy lips and sad eyes. “Yes, I read it.” Her eyes flicked to Lonnie, who remained there like a silent English guard. “But I’m starting to regret it.”
“Lonnie, can you give us a minute?” I said.
“See you in History, Denise.” He lifted the guitar case and waved it in the air, walking backward through the hallway as he did so, heading toward the music room.
Denise whipped her head to me, her sad eyes suddenly angry. “Kasey, I can’t believe you.”
I dropped my hand from her sleeve. “I can explain.”
“That’s entirely the problem!” Denise cupped her temples with her palms. She lowered her voice as several onlookers turned their attention back to us. Though I knew she was just trying to avoid being overheard, the way she leaned in close to me, conspiratorially, reminded me so much of the two of us sitting in the back of Pre-Calc last year, trading answers and gossip whenever our teacher turned to face the board. “When you said you were going to reveal secrets, I didn’t think you’d reveal mine!”
Sweat beaded in the crooks of my armpits. “I didn’t!” Her annoyed expression begged to differ. “At least, I tried not to. I didn’t post any names.”
“You posted enough.”
She was right. After all, Lonnie had figured it out.
“Just do me a favor and leave me out of your blog entirely from now on.” As if to punctuate her statement, the warning bell blared in the hallway. She used that as her opportunity to twist away from me—and in her mind, out of my life.
“I’m going to make it up to you,” I gave her a head start to lunch, but called after her. “I swear!”
At least I hoped I would.
SO YOU THINK YOU CAN TRANCE
Posted by Kasey at 7:48 P.M.
Thursday, September 4
Past Mood: Shy
SAT Word Of The Day: Muster. Definition: not the boat drill kind, the courage kind
Deleting this blog entirely will not erase my actions. That’s the thought that pesters at me as I type out more of this story.
The auditorium filled up fast. I couldn’t believe how many people were trying out for the ship’s talent show. Or maybe, like me, they came to watch the hopefuls. I was only here to support my sister. Lara needed this—wanted this—more than I did. To me it was just a cheesy cruise ship competition. To her it was the first step in her career.
Lara’s leg bounced up and down, shaking the entire row of seats. I touched her shoulder, stopping just short of massaging it in a pep-talk pump like coaches always do in movies before a big game. “You’re better than everyone else here. You’re the reason the dance team is going to Nationals in the fall. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Lara rolled her eyes at me.
Hayden whispered in her ear, a little too-loudly. “And I don’t think that skirt is going to hurt your chances.”
She had changed into a short skirt and glitzy top she thought would be more appropriate for the try-out than her bikini. I, personally, didn’t see a difference.
Finn leaned over
“I didn’t start the blog to get popular. It’s for you guys, not me.”
Denise stood ramrod straight, perfecting her victory at the silent treatment. She looked everywhere except the guitar case in Lonnie’s hands.
“And everyone else is only reading to watch you fail.” Ali gave me one more exaggerated roll of her eyes before she stalked past me, her swagger accentuated in the swing of her hips.
Denise hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder and took a step in Ali’s direction—in my direction—but I grabbed the hem of her shirtsleeve. “Did you read it?”
She stopped despite the flimsy hold I had on her. Minutes passed. Hours. The crowd that had gathered started to disperse. Finally, Denise sighed and turned to me. The happy carefree expression she always wore melted into droopy lips and sad eyes. “Yes, I read it.” Her eyes flicked to Lonnie, who remained there like a silent English guard. “But I’m starting to regret it.”
“Lonnie, can you give us a minute?” I said.
“See you in History, Denise.” He lifted the guitar case and waved it in the air, walking backward through the hallway as he did so, heading toward the music room.
Denise whipped her head to me, her sad eyes suddenly angry. “Kasey, I can’t believe you.”
I dropped my hand from her sleeve. “I can explain.”
“That’s entirely the problem!” Denise cupped her temples with her palms. She lowered her voice as several onlookers turned their attention back to us. Though I knew she was just trying to avoid being overheard, the way she leaned in close to me, conspiratorially, reminded me so much of the two of us sitting in the back of Pre-Calc last year, trading answers and gossip whenever our teacher turned to face the board. “When you said you were going to reveal secrets, I didn’t think you’d reveal mine!”
Sweat beaded in the crooks of my armpits. “I didn’t!” Her annoyed expression begged to differ. “At least, I tried not to. I didn’t post any names.”
“You posted enough.”
She was right. After all, Lonnie had figured it out.
“Just do me a favor and leave me out of your blog entirely from now on.” As if to punctuate her statement, the warning bell blared in the hallway. She used that as her opportunity to twist away from me—and in her mind, out of my life.
“I’m going to make it up to you,” I gave her a head start to lunch, but called after her. “I swear!”
At least I hoped I would.
SO YOU THINK YOU CAN TRANCE
Posted by Kasey at 7:48 P.M.
Thursday, September 4
Past Mood: Shy
SAT Word Of The Day: Muster. Definition: not the boat drill kind, the courage kind
Deleting this blog entirely will not erase my actions. That’s the thought that pesters at me as I type out more of this story.
The auditorium filled up fast. I couldn’t believe how many people were trying out for the ship’s talent show. Or maybe, like me, they came to watch the hopefuls. I was only here to support my sister. Lara needed this—wanted this—more than I did. To me it was just a cheesy cruise ship competition. To her it was the first step in her career.
Lara’s leg bounced up and down, shaking the entire row of seats. I touched her shoulder, stopping just short of massaging it in a pep-talk pump like coaches always do in movies before a big game. “You’re better than everyone else here. You’re the reason the dance team is going to Nationals in the fall. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Lara rolled her eyes at me.
Hayden whispered in her ear, a little too-loudly. “And I don’t think that skirt is going to hurt your chances.”
She had changed into a short skirt and glitzy top she thought would be more appropriate for the try-out than her bikini. I, personally, didn’t see a difference.
Finn leaned over
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