‘You’ve gotta stop taking yourself so seriously, man,’ Avery declared. ‘What’s life without a little risk? And you lucked out today. You got to read with Josephine.’ He dropped his arm around my shoulder. ‘What about that?’
I shrugged him off. ‘So?’
‘Oh, come on. She’s pretty hot.’
‘Definitely,’ agreed Mitchell.
‘And with that whole carnival girl vibe she’s got going on…’
‘That’s enough,’ I snapped.
Avery looked stunned. ‘Excuse me?’
I felt a rush of heat as a frightening surge of anger blazed through me; the kind that made me want to hit something. I paused, shocked at my own emotion. I didn’t get like this. Indignant, sure. Even ticked off, on occasion. But nothing like this.
This was raw, barely controllable, anger.
I took a deep breath. It had to be leftover nerves from the audition, that’s all. I took a few more breaths and pressed my fist against my leg. Something inside me finally released, and the harsh emotion disappeared as quickly as it had come.
‘Sorry,’ I said, putting on an easy smile and playing down my reaction. ‘Listen, I’ve got to go home and, you know, recover from this audition thing. Maybe get a little therapy. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay?’ I ignored their stares as I pushed open the lobby doors and rushed out.
What was wrong with me?
I considered skipping school the next day, but there was no point. I’d already seen Josephine Romany – and thoroughly embarrassed myself in the process – so that was over. Things could go back to normal now.
But I found myself constantly thinking about her, and the more I tried not to think about her, the more it happened. I wanted to see her, to somehow make up for my awkward reaction – which made even less sense to me than it did the day before – but then I’d feel mortified at the thought of seeing her – and I realized it was because I didn’t want to see her, which made absolutely no sense.
Feelings like this couldn’t be normal.
I transferred my lunch tray to one hand so I could massage my aching shoulders. Much to my dismay, and despite aspirin and a tube of muscle cream, they hadn’t loosened at all. If anything, the cramping tightness had gotten worse. Avery shifted closer as we walked through the courtyard.
‘Did somebody go to the gym last night?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Sorry, Avery,’ I replied, covering my irritation with a smirk. ‘I’m not going to join your fitness club, even if they do have really good smoothies.’ He tried to look wounded, but I wasn’t buying it. ‘I’m just a little stiff today,’ I added. ‘The weather, I guess.’
Avery glanced at the sky and cocked an eyebrow. ‘The weather?’ It was a perfect autumn day – one that begged for football and bonfires – not aching joints and muscles. ‘Look, Sebastian, I know you’ve got a full year on me, but that’s old people talk, man.’
‘I said it’s the weather, okay?’ I grinned under my hood. ‘Now shut up or I’ll beat you with my cane.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The gang was assembled in the courtyard, but with one addition: Josephine sat atop the table, chatting with the others. I instantly put on the brakes, my blood pounding in my ears. All attempts at normalcy crumbled. Avery pushed ahead, oblivious to my reaction.
‘I was so excited when my parents said we were staying in Sixes,’ she said to Katie. Her face lit up as she talked. ‘I really like it here.’
‘Well, it’s cool to have the Circe back in town,’ Mitchell squirted a packet of ketchup on his hot dog. ‘It’s been pretty boring around here.’
‘I’m glad you got switched into drama, Josie,’ said Katie. ‘I barely see you all day.’
I grimaced as Katie called her Josie. It seemed too plain for someone like her.
She was sunlight reflected on a pond.
‘Speaking of hiding out,’ said Avery from across the table, ‘where’s Francis? Did he register for drama, too?’
Josephine laughed. ‘My brother wouldn’t be caught dead in a drama class. You know what a big jock he is.’
Avery straightened, bowing out his broad chest. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean? You can’t be a jock and participate in the theatrical arts?’ He flexed his broad arms for emphasis. ‘Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Of course you can,’ Josephine replied, clearly entertained. ‘But trust me, you don’t want Francis anywhere near the stage. He claims he’s too much of a tech-head for the artsy stuff.’
‘Yeah?’ Brandon set down his soda and leaned forward. ‘So what does that make us?’
Katie smiled. ‘Well-rounded.’
Josephine propped her chin in her hand. ‘So, my birthday’s on Monday.’ She was met with a chorus of well wishes and she laughed. The sound gave me a pleasant rush. ‘Thanks, guys,’ she continued, ‘but my parents are insisting on throwing me a party…turning eighteen and all that. I have to humor them, but spending a whole evening with my troupe is not exactly what I’d call a party. I mean, honestly, I see them every day.’ Everyone was listening and, like a seasoned performer, Josephine milked every moment of their attentive silence. ‘I asked my parents if I could bring some friends from school, that is, if anyone is interested.’ She tilted her chin, looking around the table innocently. ‘I’d love it if you all could come. It’s at the Circe, of course. Monday night at seven. What do you say?’
It wasn’t really much of a decision. An invitation to a party at the Circe de Romany on a weeknight easily topped the most exciting weekend plans in Sixes. Everyone talked, and Josephine seemed pleased, and I found myself smiling at her. Then I realized I was still standing there, frozen, stupidly holding my tray. Josephine saw me.
‘What about you, Sebastian?’ she asked. ‘Can you come?’
The dancing girl whirls. Green eyes meet mine.
Blinding pain. A shriek in the dark…
Everything snapped into focus. I barely kept my tray from crashing to the ground. I took a step back, clutching the plastic handles, trying to breathe again. All this time, all those zone outs. The image of the Gypsy girl. It wasn’t from the painting in the tattoo shop. It was her.
It was Josephine.
My mouth dropped open before I had the good sense to clamp it shut. All eyes were on me now, and Katie’s were so large that I thought they might pop out of her head. Josephine blinked at me, waiting for my answer. I concentrated all my energies on declining her invitation. There was no way I could attend her party. Not when just looking at her made me freak out.
‘Sure.’
The word escaped my lips completely against my will, and the sensation felt like plunging down a long flight of stairs. Josephine’s expression turned strangely solemn as she stared at me.
‘Good.’
After another dinner of Chinese takeout, I collected the Gypsy Ink trash and prepared to make my nightly pilgrimage to the garbage bin.
‘Don’t be long,’ said Vincent, tossing me another bag from his workroom. ‘There’s another load waiting for you by the counter.’
‘Some Friday night,’