Bras & Broomsticks (18 page)

By the time we get to our lockers, the whole school knows.

On the way to my next class, Doree throws her arms around me. “Congrats!” she squeals. “I’m so excited to have someone in class to talk to about the show! This is so awesome!”

“Congratulations, Rachel,” William Kosravi says.

The president of our high school just talked to me.
To me
. He knows who I am. Now I can call him just Will too! Suddenly, everyone knows who I am. People I’ve never even seen are congratulating me.

This is so much more effective than a math tournament.

Or even bowling.

“Je suis très excitée de te voir danser!”
Madame Diamon says as she passes me in the hallway.

“Enchantée,”
I murmur, sashaying past.

Tammy can’t stop smiling. “I’m so happy for you.” She gives me a thumbs-up. “Want to celebrate after school? We can go for pizza.”

“Yeah, great,” I say. We turn into the second-floor stairwell, and before I know it, I’m being suffocated by arms.

“Congratulations!” London and Mercedes scream. Two of the most popular girls in school are hugging me. Unbelievable.

“Practice starts today after school,” London says, ignoring Tammy. Today she’s in navy blue. Jeans, sweater, Yankees hat, boots, and eyeliner. “Plan on working your butt off. You have a ton of catching up to do. We expect you to be at practice every day after school except Wednesday for the next month.”

Like that’s a bad thing? I can’t think of a better way to spend my afternoons than with Jewel and Raf.

“What are we practicing today?” I ask, trying not to appear eager.

London whips out her clipboard. “Jewel volunteered to teach you the opening during lunch. It’s extremely vital that you know what you’re doing because the freshman girls start off the dance, which sets the tone for the entire show. All lunch practices are in the drama room.”

She offered to teach me? That’s so sweet. She is such a great friend. See? She still likes me! “After school, the cast is meeting in the caf to review the first dance,” London continues. “It’s a medley of music from
Chicago
.”

I knew there was a reason I bought Mom the DVD for her birthday. Besides her birthday, I mean.

“And tomorrow after school is the freshman and sophomore
Moulin Rouge
rehearsal. Raf Kosravi is your partner.”

I know! Hooray! Abracazam! He’ll fall in love with me and invite me to Spring Fling!

“And the girls will all be wearing Izzy Simpson.”

Yes! Yes! Yes! “Oh. Cool,” I say, shrugging.

“You have Wednesday off. Mercedes and I have Pilates. Thursday is the practice for the all-girl freshman and sophomore dance. It’s to Will Smith’s ‘Miami’ and I’m choreographing and it’s going to be incredible. You’ll be wearing Juicy. On Friday Mercedes will work with everyone on the closing, which is also the entire cast. It’s to a dance version of Frank Sinatra’s ‘New York, New York.’ Everyone will wear black Theory clothes.” She snaps the clipboard under her arm. “Those are all the numbers you’re in.”

Can you say overwhelming? That sounds like a lot of work. Not that I’m going to complain. London seems to take this show
very
seriously.

“Oh wait—there’s also the all-freshman Vegas dance. Melissa put together a stripper theme that was fantastic, but the administration heard about it and said it was inappropriate. So you didn’t miss anything because she’s redoing it. Later,” she concludes without ceremony, and they slink off.

Why is Melissa choreographing? And somehow I missed what label we’ll be wearing, but who cares? I’d wear something by Judy if I had to.

Well, maybe.

“Wow,” Tammy says. “Guess we’re not going for pizza after school today.”

“Guess not,” I say, vowing to do it as soon as the show is over.

Tammy and I start walking. “But how amazing is it that designers let you model their clothes?” she says.

“So amazing,” I say. “I guess they do it for the publicity. And rumor has it we get our hair and makeup done for free the day of the show,” I add, half guilty.

“Lucky,” she murmurs. All right, three-quarters guilty.

When we get to math, Jewel waves from the back. “I’ll see you later,” I say to Tammy.

“Hi, hon,” Jewel says. “I’m so excited for you!”

I can’t stop smiling.

“I was dying to call you this weekend.
Dying
. But London told me I had to keep it under lock and key.” She makes a zipping motion to her mouth. She should be making a locking motion, but I don’t want to call her on it. “Aren’t you thrilled?”

“Thrilled,” I repeat. “So how long do the practices last?”

“Not long. And then we go out for food.”

Is it possible I’ll be privy to the after-school hang-out? The bell rings, signifying the beginning of class. Ms. Hayward slams the door and starts to set up her books.

“So you have to tell me,” Jewel says, leaning over her desk toward me. “When did you learn to dance like that?”

“I must have picked it up.” Or bathed in it. Whatever.

“But how? I couldn’t get over you. No one could. You were all anyone could talk about at Mick’s.”

“At Mick’s?” Mick isn’t in the show. He definitely wasn’t at the tryouts.

“At his party on Friday. Honestly, we were all totally bowled over. Mercedes said she was glad that Laura Jenkins dropped out, because you’re ten times better than she is. She couldn’t understand why you didn’t try out in October.” Jewel shakes her ringlets. “Me either.”

Ms. Hayward bangs her ruler against the desk. “Rachel, do you think you and Juliana can stop talking long enough so that I can teach my class?”

I open my textbook, the smile still on my face. Even Hayward can’t ruin this perfect day.

“That foot spin at the end took me two weeks to learn, and you got it in two secs,” Jewel tells me at fashion show rehearsal. I’m at
fashion show rehearsal!
Raf and Jewel and London and thirty other A-listers are wandering around and I’m not dreaming. At least I think I’m not. I’d pinch myself but that would look weird. The entire cast is in the cafeteria and we just did a run-through of the opening number that Jewel taught me at lunch.

“Thanks,” I say demurely.

“It’s true,” says Stephanie Collins—Stephy to those in the know. She’s standing on the other side of me and must be the only girl in school shorter than I am. She’s under five feet and has long silky blond hair that she wears in two low pigtails. Her nose, eyes, and lips are so small, they look like miniatures. “I don’t want to stand next to you. You’re going to make me look bad.”

Whoever said cool girls were mean is crazy. I’ve gotten nothing but compliments since I got here.

“Are you two going to Snack Shoppe after practice?” Stephy asks us.

Jewel winks at me. “Is that where everyone is?”

Stephy double-checks the text message on her pink cell phone. “Uh-huh.”

“Rachel, you want to go?” Jewel asks.

“Sure.” If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up.

I feel like Cinderella. And Raf is my prince. My spell had better not run out at midnight.

I follow Jewel and Melissa to a booth at the back of Snack Shoppe. A booth where Sean Washington and Mick are seated. Yes, Mick. I’ve forgotten about Mick since being paired with Raf, but he’s still extremely hot and has excellent boyfriend potential. I sit down across from him and try not to stare. He looks as if he belongs in an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, but with more clothes. Sean is another super-hot guy. He has dark skin, a buzz cut, and the brightest, whitest smile I’ve ever seen. He’s in the fashion show, too, and dancing with Jewel in the formal.

“Hey, dancing ladies,” Mick says, and shoves a fry into his mouth.

“Hey,” Jewel and Stephy say.

My mouth is too dry to speak. It feels as if someone attached a Dustbuster to my tongue.

Jewel orders an iced tea from the waitress. Then Melissa orders an iced tea. Then I order an iced tea. As if I need the caffeine. What I could use is water. Like this second. My mouth is a desert and I’m afraid it’ll crack if I open it.

“What’s going on?” Jewel asks Mick.

“Just hanging out. Crazy party on Friday, huh?”

“Totally wild,” Melissa says.

“This weekend is going to be even crazier,” Mick says. “Nat’s in town.”

“Excellent,” Jewel says.

I have no idea who Nat is (girl? boy? cat?), but I nod as if I do.

“Rachel, you going to come this week? Show off the moves everyone’s been talking about?”

He’s talking to me. He knows my name. He invited me to his party.

He’s talking to me. He knows my name. He invited me to his party.

He’s talking to me. He knows my name. He invited me to his party.

Omigod.

“Hello? Rachel?” he says.

Super. We’re on speaking terms for four seconds and I’ve already screwed it up. Way to go.

“She doesn’t talk,” Melissa says. “Just dances.”

Well,
that
was pretty rude. “Sounds cool,” I say. Is
cool
still a cool word to say? Does saying it take away from its cool nature? Should I have used
crazy
like he did? Or
awesome
? Or what about plain, reliable
good
?

Mick smiles and gobbles up another fry. He has beautiful plump lips. They remind me of ripe, juicy grapes.

Maybe he’ll let me fan him and feed him a few?

The waitress brings our drinks and I take a big gulp. I need to be seriously cooled down. Seriously crazied down?

I feel a strong squeeze on my shoulder and spin around.

Omigod.

It’s Raf. Touching me. Squeezing me. Mick is across from me, talking to me with his beautiful plump lips while Raf, with his electric hands and deep-sea dark eyes, is touching me. Did I already say that this is the best day ever?

This is the best day ever.

“Hey, partner,” he says.

“Hi,” I squeak.

He pulls up a chair from the table next to us and joins our group. “Ready for tomorrow?”

Am I ever. “Definitely. I hope I can keep up.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Why don’t we meet at lunch and I’ll go over some of the moves?”

“Great!” I agreed a little too quickly. But who cares? I have a lunch date. A lunch date! Yes! Isn’t dancing kind of like cuddling standing up?

“Where do you want to meet? I’ll get the music from Mercedes.”

“Your locker?” I say.

“Sure. It’s—”

“Right by Mr. Silver’s class.” Did I just say that? What reason could I have for knowing where his locker is except for being a psycho stalker? “I think,” I add. Everyone’s staring at me. Mick’s staring. Sean’s staring. Melissa’s staring. Jewel’s staring.

“Yeah,” Raf says. “It’s down the hall from yours.”

Excuse me? He knows where my locker is? Why does he know where my locker is? He’s never said one word to me. Is it possible he’s a psycho stalker? My psycho stalker? How cool would that be? How cool! Crazy! Awesome! Good!

Raf pushes back his chair. “See you tomorrow, Rachel.” And then he pops over to a table in the back where some senior football players are sitting. He is so cool. He’s comfortable talking to everyone.