“Jess, you don’t know that,” Livvy says.
“Why else would she possibly be here? We’ve seen zero proof that she can actually sing or act or dance. She couldn’t even get a part as a freaking spear-carrier.”
“It’s not her fault she didn’t get cast,” Zoe says. “Plus, she’s an amazing pianist. You should seriously hear her play.”
The sink goes on, and Livvy says, “What is up with my hair today?”
Jessa ignores her. “If she’s so good at music, she belongs at Interlochen! Allerdale is for actors, and she is not an actor. Her own mom didn’t even want to watch her perform. Didn’t you see how she called on everyone but her?”
“Brady and Adam didn’t go, either,” Livvy says.
“Jess, I really think we just ran out of time,” Zoe says.
“Why are you sticking up for her? Don’t you know she’s using you?”
“How is she using me? She’s my friend.”
“She wants people to see her with the Juilliard girl, obviously. She follows you around like a lost puppy.”
Livvy giggles. “God, Jessa, you’re kind of being a huge bitch right now.”
“It’s not bitchy if it’s true.”
“I want her to hang out with me,” Zoe says. “What do you not understand about ‘we’re friends’?”
I can almost hear Jessa rolling her eyes. “Girl, you do what you want. But I wouldn’t want some amateur hanging on to my coattails. Hey, Liv and I are going to Target later. You want to come?”
“I can’t,” Zoe says. “Brooklyn and Lana and I are having dinner.”
“Ohhhhh.” Jessa says the word like it has about five syllables. “Okay. I get it now.”
“Jessa, it’s not like that.”
“Whatever. I say good on you. If she’s gonna use you, use her right back.” And then the door swings open and bangs shut, and everything is quiet.
So I guess that’s it; my days of being part of the group are over. No more raucous dining hall meals, arguing over which is the worst musical ever written. No more crowding around someone’s laptop and watching dumb YouTube videos. No more late nights on the lawn. When those things were actually happening, I was always waiting for them to be over so I could be alone with Zoe. But now that they’re not an option anymore, I realize how much I’ll miss being invited.
Or maybe I was never really invited at all. Maybe I was just following Zoe around like a lost puppy.
At least she stood up for me. She didn’t know I was here, so she didn’t have to say the things she said. She really does like me, and it’s not because I can bring her closer to my mom. And it’s a good thing, too. If I don’t have any shows or any friends, Zoe’s pretty much the only thing I have left going for me at Allerdale. I better cling to her with everything I’ve got.
I spend the rest of the afternoon holed up in a practice room, playing overly dramatic sad songs. When I come back to the room to change for dinner, Zoe’s waiting for me. She looks gorgeous in a strappy red dress and sparkly shoes. “Where were you?” she asks. “I texted you a million times.”
Part of me wants to tell her I overheard her conversation with Jessa in the bathroom, but that would be embarrassing for both of us. “Sorry. I was in a practice room,” I say. “There’s no reception down there. Let me change, and we can go, okay?”
“Okay.” Zoe smiles, a totally genuine smile, and it calms me down to see how excited she is for tonight. Honestly, even if she were using me to get closer to my mom, I’d probably let her.
We walk the five minutes to Main Street and find Spindrift, which is one of the three restaurants in town. The bistro turns out to be beautiful, all rough-hewn wood tables and tiny votive candles and chairs with swirly wrought-iron backs that are nicer to look at than lean on. Mom’s already there when we arrive, halfway into her first glass of wine. “My girls,” she says when she spots us. “Sit down. Get anything you want—appetizers, desserts, my treat.”
“Thank you so much for inviting me,” Zoe says as she settles into her chair, and my mom says, “Of course, my darling,” even though it was my idea.
“How were the non-eqs?” I ask.
“Oh, they were wonderful. No one topped you, though, Zoe. I was floored by what you did in class today.”
Zoe turns pink. “Wow, really? I mean, wow. Thank you.”
“When you get to New York, Brookie will give you my number, and we’ll arrange a little audition, okay? No promises, but if I end up having space for another student, I’d love to teach you. If that’s something you think you might want, of course.”
“Oh my God, yes. I can’t even—I mean—yes. Thank you. Thank you so much.” Zoe beams at me, and I smile back, but it almost hurts to do it. I can’t even tell if I’m more jealous that she has captured my mom’s heart so thoroughly or that my mom has captured hers.