Finally, he shook his head, clearly disgusted. “We’re done for the day,” he said. “I have to figure out what to do with you. Go away.”
“I mean, it’s you, clearly,” Alex said that night. We were sitting face-to-face on the sofa in the apartment he shared with Trevor, knees bent and bare feet brushing. Dinner with Charla and the girls had been a miserable, silent affair, the tension in the kitchen as thick and starchy as the vegetarian chili Charla had made. I’d dashed out the front door as soon as I could, telling myself I didn’t care about the nasty looks the rest of them were undoubtedly shooting me behind my back. “You’re the star.”
I waved my hand like his words could be batted away. “You have to say that.”
“I don’t, actually,” Alex pointed out. He wrapped one big hand around my ankle and tugged until I scooted down closer to him; he pressed his thumb against my bare instep, and I shivered.
“That feels nice.”
“It’s supposed to,” Alex said, running his palm up over my calf and squeezing. “I’m distracting you.”
“You’re not, actually, but I appreciate the effort.” I sighed, but let him kiss me, closing my eyes and tilting my chin up, breathing in his clean boy smell. It occurred to me again that our relationship would probably only last as long as we were in this place together—that if I got cut from Daisy Chain, the odds were that Alex and I would never see each other again. After all, we’d barely known each other a month. It had been an intense month, sure—we’d seen each other every day, and he knew more about me than arguably anyone else on the planet besides Olivia—but still. It scared me, how much I cared about him. It felt dangerous, like I was asking to get hurt.
“What about now?” Alex murmured after a moment, as my knee came up to hug the side of his body. “Am I distracting you now?”
I swallowed hard. “That’s a little better,” I allowed.
Alex smiled against my jawline. “It’s going to be fine,” he promised. “I know it.”
I sat up then, gently pushing him off me. “Can you stop saying that?” I asked. “That everything is going to be fine? I mean, I appreciate that you’re trying to help me, but you have no reason to think that’s true.”
“How talented you are is the reason,” Alex said, frowning. “How much I like watching you when you’re onstage.”
I laughed at that, the edge in my voice betraying a frustration I hadn’t even realized I was feeling. It seemed like nothing ever went wrong for Alex. So of course he had no reason to think anything ever would. “We’re fooling around, Alex! Of course you like looking at me when I’m onstage.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “And you said yourself Tulsa basically told you you’re the star of Daisy Chain,” he reminded me. “So don’t throw some false modesty around like—”
“That’s not what he told me,” I countered. “And it’s not false modesty! I don’t get to be sure of myself because one dude gave me a compliment, Alex, even if it was Tulsa MacCreadie. I haven’t spent my entire life being a golden child and having everybody tell me I’m God’s gift to the performing arts.”
Right away, I knew I’d gone too far; Alex looked like I’d slapped him in his face. “Is that what you think of me?” he asked. “That people just hand me stuff and tell me how great I am all day long?”
“No,” I said, “that’s not—” I broke off, shrugged a little. Told the truth. “I think your life is easier than most people’s lives, yes.”
“Okay,” Alex said, standing up. “You know what—”
“It’s true!” I protested. “I’m not saying it as a value judgment, I’m just . . . saying it.”
“You are saying it as a value judgment, actually.”
I huffed a breath out. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t want to fight.”
Alex made a face. “Don’t you?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. Until now, I’d mostly been able to ignore how different Alex and I were—like the fact that we were here in this bubble together meant it didn’t matter that we came from completely opposite places, had completely opposite experiences of the world. But the thing about bubbles was that, inevitably, they popped. I didn’t know if what we had when we were together was any match for who each of us was on our own.
“I should go,” I told him finally. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m tired. I’m being a jerk.”
Alex looked at me, his expression hurt and baffled. I felt my stomach clench. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I echoed quietly. I headed out into the twilight toward home.
TWENTY-TWO
“Well, ladies,” Guy said the next morning, sitting behind the desk in his cramped, windowless office, “we tried this. And I’m sorry to say it didn’t work.”
Here it was. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, struggling to keep my gaze steady as I planted my feet far apart and pushed my shoulders back: I wanted to take up space. I’m not afraid of you, I wanted to tell him, although obviously that was a giant lie. Guy held my entire future in his pocket, the same way he’d carry a handkerchief or a pack of gum.
“It wasn’t just that abysmal performance a couple of weeks ago,” Guy continued, “although—make no mistake—it was abysmal. Still, I’ve seen worse. We could have fixed that if the four of you had developed any kind of chemistry as a group. Dance moves we can teach. Voices I can remix. But that special thing, that lightning in a bottle, you all just—you don’t have it.” Guy shook his head. “So in the interest of getting this over with as quickly as possible and not leaving you hanging in suspense, I’m just going to lay it out for you girls. You’re leaving me no choice. I’m disbanding Daisy Chain. Ashley, Kristin,” he said, “you’re out.”
What? Ashley and Kristin? For a moment I honestly thought I’d heard him wrong. Next to me, Olivia let out a sound that wasn’t quite a whimper, but other than that nobody said anything; the four of us stared at him, shocked and cowlike.
“I mean it,” Guy said, sounding puzzled by our stunned reaction, addressing Ash and Kristin directly now. “Go talk to Juliet. She’s going to book your flights home. You’re both lovely young ladies, and it’s been a pleasure for me to get to know you, but you’ve had your opportunity, and now it’s over.”
“Are you kidding me?” Kristin demanded, puncturing the silence. She looked furious and simultaneously like she’d been gut punched. “You’re cutting us?” Ashley had begun crying openly, tears rolling down her face. Kristin turned around to gesture at me incredulously. “And she’s what, she’s staying? You’re keeping her over us?”