Make Up or Break Up, page 2
‘Keeping a secret from your best friend is hard,’ I whispered to Chris. ‘Especially when your best friend is Cat.’ I stared into his bright blue eyes for a moment before continuing. ‘It’s like she wants me to herself all the time and has to be included in every little detail of my life. Like at the Year 7 dance, when I was dancing with that cutie Stephen Brent and she came up and asked him whether it was really over with his last girlfriend. He ran a mile!’
I looked down at my pillow and then back up at Chris. ‘It’s not that I don’t totally love Cat – I do! I just don’t want her nudging me in the ribs every time Tony walks past, and trying to turn it into the romance of the century. Or, worse, giving Tony a hard time for scorning me. Do you dig, Chris?’ His eyes told me he understood perfectly.
I rolled onto my side, sighing. It was strange that Cat suddenly thought Tony should be my boyfriend. She’d never liked the idea of me spending any time with him before.
‘I don’t get it,’ I told Chris, looking back up at the ceiling. ‘She’s always said he was a major nerd, but now she thinks he’s a major hottie?’ Not even Chris could help me make sense of that.
Now that almost a year had passed, there was more reason than ever to keep the kiss under wraps. Cat would be outraged that I hadn’t told her at the time, and I knew she’d turn it into a grand drama of betrayal.
I looked up at Chris. ‘She really is a drama queen,’ I whispered.
Then again, who was I to judge? I was having a conversation with a poster.
‘Oh. My. God.’ Cat’s mouth fell open when she saw the school noticeboard the next morning.
I looked over Cat’s shoulder and scanned the clutter of ads and notices stuck to the board. My eyes settling on a sign that said: AUDITIONS FOR GLADIATOR: THE MUSICAL WILL BE HELD IN THE AUDITORIUM THIS FRIDAY AT 3:30.
Cat was shaking her head. ‘Gladiator? The Musical? Come on. Gladiator’s a movie. It can’t be turned into a musical. It’s going to be awful! And there’s only one big female part … I bet Louisa Andrews will get it. Oh my god. This is so unfair.’
Louisa Andrews was the best singer at Cherrywood High. When she was only fourteen she had sung solo for the state choir.
‘Maybe you can play one of the tigers,’ I suggested.
Cat rolled her eyes. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
A group of older boys came striding down the hall towards us. Among them was Ollie Haas, who was a head taller than the others. They stopped when they got to the noticeboard.
‘So, you girls thinking of auditioning?’ Ollie asked.
I turned around, looked up at him, and melted. He was so gorgeous. Okay, not as gorgeous as Chris Hemsworth, but gorgeous enough.
‘Yeah,’ replied Cat in a voice that was almost air.
‘Actually,’ I croaked, ‘we didn’t know that Gladiator could be turned into a musical.’
‘Strange choice, isn’t it?’
Cat and I nodded, hanging on his every word. Ollie Haas was talking to us.
‘The music’s been written by a guy in your year,’ he continued. ‘You know, Anthony Rickson.’
‘Oh,’ I breathed. ‘Tony Rickson.’ Then the full force of what he was saying finally hit me. ‘Tony wrote the musical?’
‘Yep,’ replied Ollie. ‘He wrote the songs, anyway. Pretty cool, huh?’ Ollie was talking to me, but his deep blue eyes kept zeroing in on Cat.
I stood there like an idiot, my mouth opening and closing like a codfish. Year 10s thought Tony was cool? My Tony? Oh, puh-lease! Sure, he was good at music, but he was a nerd, right? When we used to hang out, he was definitely a nerd. A nice nerd. Well, he used to be nice. But definitely he was a nerd. That was for sure.
‘The guy’s a genius,’ said one of Ollie’s friends, contradicting my thoughts.
‘Who’s a genius?’ interrupted a high-pitched female voice. It was Louisa Andrews. She smiled at Ollie and flicked her long, fox-coloured hair over her shoulder. ‘I presume you’re talking about me.’
‘Hey Lou,’ said Ollie, laughing.
Louisa greeted the boys, but completely ignored Cat and me.
‘We who are about to die, salute you!’ she announced dramatically to Ollie, quoting from the movie in mock seriousness.
Ollie and his friends laughed uproariously. Cat shot me a ‘kill me now’ look. I rolled my eyes at her.
‘These girls are auditioning too,’ Ollie said, gesturing to Cat and me.
Finally Louisa deigned to look us. She narrowed her eyes at Cat. ‘Weren’t you in the chorus last year?’ she asked, looking unimpressed.
‘Yes,’ said Cat, returning Louisa’s look of contempt.
‘Well, don’t expect a main part this year,’ said Louisa. ‘There’s only one big female part and that’s Lucilla.’
I remembered Lucilla from the movie. She was the Roman Emperor’s daughter.
‘Lucilla,’ repeated Ollie. ‘Hmmm … sounds like Louisa.’
‘Exactly,’ Louisa replied smugly.
It made me so mad that Louisa was being so charming to the boys and so rude to us. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to stick up for Cat.
‘Actually, Cat would be perfect for that part,’ I said. ‘She’s part-Roman, you know. Her father was born in Rome.’
Louisa pursed her lips. ‘I think the parts will be handed out based on singing ability,’ she trilled, ‘not where your parents were born.’
‘Well, Cat’s the best singer I know,’ I added. ‘So I guess we’ll see on Friday afternoon.’
‘I guess we will,’ replied Louisa. She turned away from us, flicking her long, orange hair dramatically. It whipped across my face and I spluttered.
‘See you later, guys,’ said Cat as we left the group. The boys’ attention was on Louisa, but Ollie gave us a quick wave.
We made our way down the hall to Latin. As soon as we were inside the classroom, Cat clutched her hands to her heart. ‘Ollie’s so hot!’ she cried. ‘He’s so gorgeous that I actually feel pain when I look at him. Right here, in my chest.’
‘I know what you mean,’ I said, remembering what I felt whenever I looked at my ceiling and saw Chris Hemsworth’s beautiful face staring down at me. ‘Ollie is really cute.’
‘We have to blitz the auditions on Friday,’ said Cat, sitting down at her desk.
‘We?’ I asked, sitting down next to her.
‘You’re coming.’
‘Yeah, I mean, I’ll come and cheer you on, but –’
‘No!’ barked Cat, with force. ‘I need you in the musical with me. You can’t leave me alone with Louisa Andrews. She’ll eat me alive.’
‘I won’t let her do that,’ I said, pulling my luckiest pen out of my pencil case.
‘Correct,’ Cat replied sharply. ‘Because you’ll be at my side at every audition, rehearsal and performance.’
‘But, Cat, I can’t sing a note in tune. I can’t be in a musical!’
‘Doesn’t matter. Not if you’re in the chorus. You can just lip-sync.’
‘That’s the wrong answer, Caterina-Cordelia,’ I said, pretending she’d wounded my feelings. ‘What you should have said is that I’m a really great singer.’
‘Okay, you’re a really great singer, Ally.’
We erupted with laughter.
‘Care to share the joke, girls?’ Mrs Hawkins asked, picking up a stack of papers from her desk at the front of the classroom. They were our Latin tests. Cat and I stopped laughing.
‘Nothing on your desk except your pen,’ said Mrs Hawkins as she handed out the tests. ‘You have half an hour to complete this test … starting now.’
I picked up my lucky pen. I was ready.
‘You have to audition with me, Ally,’ hissed Cat in a stage whisper.
God, I thought, trying to ignore her. She was relentless.
I took a deep breath. It was time to be honest. ‘I don’t want to be in the musical,’ I whispered back.
‘Of course you do!’ she muttered. ‘We can get close to Ollie and Tony this way. It’s the perfect opportunity. You’ll love it.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘And I can’t audition on my own. You have to come.’
I shot a look across at Mrs Hawkins. She was sitting at her desk, looking down at a book she was reading. But any minute we were going to get caught whispering during a test.
Wincing, I surrendered. ‘Okay,’ I whispered to Cat, my eyes fluttering closed with dread. ‘I’ll do it.’
It was a promise I already knew I’d regret.
Mrs Hawkins handed back our Latin tests the very next day. I stared at the red ‘100’ written in the top right-hand corner of my test paper. I couldn’t have done any better. I’d totally brained it. I guess all that studying was worth it.
‘Ally Motbey, can I see you after class?’ They were words that no student wanted to hear, but somehow I knew I wasn’t in trouble.
‘Yes, Mrs Hawkins,’ I answered.
‘Teacher’s pet,’ muttered Cat.
I gave an innocent shrug. ‘I have no idea what she wants.’
‘How do you do it?’ Cat whispered. ‘How do you get through a test as hard as that without making any mistakes?’
‘The same way you get through a whole song without hitting a wrong note,’ I whispered back. ‘How did you go, anyway?’
Cat had turned her test face down, but I could see a lot of red crosses showing through the back of the paper. ‘Put it this way,’ she said, throwing a foul look in Mrs Hawkins’s direction. ‘The only way is up.’
‘Same goes for my singing.’
‘Don’t think you’re getting out of the audition.’
‘Okay. But, I am warning you, bring your earplugs.’
‘I don’t care if your singing breaks all the light bulbs in the auditorium, you’re coming.’
I was starting to feel irritated by her comments. But when I reminded myself how much Cat wanted to be in the musical and get close to Ollie, the feeling faded. She was my best friend – of course I should help her. I figured I was probably just feeling anxious about auditioning. I really was a terrible singer.
When the bell rang at the end of class, Cat said she would wait for me in the hall. I hung back and, when the room had cleared, went to the front, where Mrs Hawkins was sitting on the edge of her desk.
She shook her head and smiled, peering at me over the top of her reading glasses.
I smiled back. ‘What? What have I done?’
‘Ally, you’ve achieved 100 per cent on all three tests this year. Many students find Latin very hard, but it comes easily to you, doesn’t it?’ Mrs Hawkins looked at me for a moment. ‘Why do you think that is?’
I shrugged. What can I really say? I wondered. That I love Latin? That I find it almost as easy to read as English? No way was I about to admit that. Saying that, even just to a teacher, would make me feel like an even bigger nerd than I know I am. A massive, super-sized nerd. So I said nothing and just looked at my shoes.
‘You’re gifted, Ally,’ Mrs Hawkins said, breaking the silence. ‘But I don’t think you’re being challenged in this class. I’d like you to attend the extension class I run for the Year 10s on Friday afternoons.’
‘Year 10?’ I gasped. ‘But I’d be way out of my depth.’
‘I only run an extension class for the Year 10s, who are preparing to study Latin in Years 11 and 12,’ Mrs Hawkins explained. ‘I think you’re more than capable of participating at Year 10 level. And I think you’ll enjoy it. At the moment, we’re translating the works of the Roman poet Catullus.’
Latin and poetry? My inner geek couldn’t hide her excitement. ‘I’d love to join the extension class!’
Mrs Hawkins gave me a massive smile. She looked as pleased as I felt. ‘I’m so glad to hear it, Ally.’
She dug through her papers and passed me a permission slip for my parents to sign.
‘See you here at three-thirty, Friday afternoon,’ Mrs Hawkins called after me as I walked into the hall.
‘See you then,’ I said, feeling awesome. I couldn’t believe she thought I was good enough to be in an extension class with the Year 10s! I went out into the hall with a huge smile on my face.
Then I saw Cat and my smile dropped. As I watched her further up the hall, rifling through her locker, I remembered I was supposed to be somewhere else at three-thirty on Friday afternoon – the Gladiator auditions. My heart sank immediately. I felt sick. What am I going to tell her?
Cat closed her locker and saw me coming towards her. ‘So?’
‘So …’ I replied, flatly.
‘What did Hawky want? Did she say you’re going to be teaching us Latin from now on?’ Cat’s smile was broad and mischievous. Mine felt plastered on. I knew I was going to have to either miss the Latin extension class or back out of the audition. Trying to get out of the audition would mean standing up to Cat – a terrifying prospect.
I tried to sound casual. ‘Oh, there’s a Latin extension class she’s asked me to go to. I don’t know whether I’ll do it … Probably not, though.’
Cat crinkled her face up. ‘More Latin? You’re kidding, right? That’s your reward for doing well?’
‘I like Latin, Cat,’ I said, feeling defensive. ‘You know that. The same way that you love singing.’
‘Yeah, okay. But I don’t get why you’d want to take extra classes,’ said Cat. ‘I mean, it sounds so uncool … not to mention massively nerdy.’
‘Ah, forget it,’ I said, waving my hand dismissively. I opened my locker and stared inside. ‘I’m not that keen anyway,’ I lied, chucking my books in and slamming the door shut. I was keen, and it was really starting to bug me that Cat didn’t seem to understand that – or didn’t want to.
We walked to the canteen together. The lunchtime queue was about a mile long. Cat threw her arms up in the air dramatically. ‘See what happens when you stay back after class? The canteen queue turns into a monster!’
She was right. Usually we sprinted to line up the moment the lunch bell rang, elbowing Year 7 kids out of the way as we went. I walked along the queue, looking for someone I knew, hoping to engage in the highly unethical practice of getting someone already in the queue to buy me my lunch.
Cat was doing the same. ‘Look,’ she whispered. ‘There’s Tony!’
‘Huh?’
‘Tony Rickson. Right at the front of the line!’
‘No –’
‘Go on, Ally,’ Cat said. ‘You guys are friends, aren’t you? Ask him.’ She passed me a ten-dollar note. ‘Get me a toasted cheese sandwich and chocolate milk.’
I frowned. So now that Tony had what Cat wanted, she was happy for me to know him. Typical. I grasped the money and headed towards the front of the queue. There was Tony, his shirt hanging out of his trousers, his long, honey-coloured hair escaping from its ponytail. Suddenly, all the embarrassment from last year flooded back, turning my face red. I really didn’t want to ask him for a favour.
‘Go on, Ally!’ Cat shoved the heel of her hand into my back.
I staggered forward. The boy at the front of the queue was just about to pay for his lunch. Tony was behind him and was going to be served next.
I tapped Tony on the shoulder. ‘Hi there,’ I said, waving the money in his direction.
‘Hey,’ he said absently, glancing at the money. He looked confused.
The lady at the canteen window rapped on the counter impatiently. ‘What can I get you?’
‘Um …’ Tony looked at her then back at me and shrugged.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I just couldn’t ask him. It was too awkward. He turned back to the canteen lady and ordered his lunch. I just stood there like a moron, staring at his back, which was a lot broader than I remembered.
Maybe Cat was right. Maybe Tony Rickson was turning into a hunk.
‘What’s wrong with you today, Ally?’ Cat asked, when we’d finally bought our lunches and were sitting on the lawn by the art rooms.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, since when have you been too shy to push into the canteen queue?’
I bit into my ham sandwich and chewed for a long time. ‘Tony’s just my dorky neighbour. He’s not my friend, Cat. I didn’t want to ask him.’
‘And I didn’t want to wait in the canteen queue for twenty minutes,’ Cat shot back.
‘I’m sorry, Cat. Okay? If it’d been anyone other than him, I would have been fine.’ I took another bite of the ham sandwich – a huge one this time.
Cat shook her head, looking serious. ‘You guys are going to have to sort out your differences before the rehearsals for Gladiator start.’
Gladiator! The scene at the canteen had made me forget all about my double booking on Friday afternoon. How was I going to juggle a Latin class with Mrs Hawkins and an audition in the auditorium? Ordinarily it wouldn’t have been a difficult choice. I knew where my talents lay, and that certainly wasn’t in the auditorium. But I’d promised Cat. How could I leave her to fend for herself against a trilling, flame-haired Year 10 witch like Louisa Andrews? Cat would never get close to Ollie with Louisa making fun of her every move. Besides, if I backed out now, I was fairly sure that Cat would hold it against me for the rest of my life – no exaggeration.
On the other hand, I really wanted to go to the Latin class. It was a beautiful language, with so much interesting literature. The extension class was a great opportunity – I didn’t want to miss out. And I didn’t want to disappoint Mrs Hawkins, either. She was a great teacher, and she really seemed to see potential in me.
I wondered if maybe it was time I said no to Cat and did something under my own steam – for the first time ever.
Sometime before Friday I was going to have to make a decision.
‘Ally?’ Cat waved her hand up and down in front of my face. ‘Babe, you are a total space cadet today. Are you sick?’
‘No. I’m okay.’ I blinked quickly and smiled, then scrunched up my empty sandwich wrapper and threw it in a nearby bin. ‘Let’s go back to the canteen for an ice-cream.’
