~Junior Year~

Olivia

"What are you doing here?"

In fact, where the heck am I? I swear I walked into theater class today, but the fact that Max just plopped down beside me with Cassandra by his side is making me question my sanity at the moment. And yes, you heard me correctly, Cassandra King has risen from the depths.

And not only is she now diving headfirst into the one place I actually find peace, but she's currently getting the death glare from Desiree, Max's fall fling. I know, it's hard to keep up.

I guess at the very least there will be some added entertainment on the sidelines.

"I needed an art class," Max casually states with a shrug beside me as if him signing up for theater was the obvious choice.

My eyes drop, letting him know I see right through his crap. "Why didn't you choose ceramics like everyone else?"

"And miss this amusingly shocked look on your face right now?" He laughs, his finger circling in front of my face.

Hilarious.

"And how about the hip attachment?" I question, nodding to the queen bee beside him.

He glances over to Cassandra, who appears to be deep in conversation with the girl next to her, before he turns back to face me.

"She needed an art credit too," he says with another shrug.

Yeah, I'm sure she did. Here's the thing. Over the last two, nearly three years of our high school career, Max has managed to keep things casual with every one of his relationships, if you could call them that. He dates, girls don't really care that they may be temporary, and then he moves on.

Don't get me wrong, he's not some chauvinistic asshole. He states his intentions from the beginning, but he never seems to fully commit. I haven't quite cracked the code that is Max Hayes and his dating life yet.

There's been one exception in all of this though, and it's none other than the barracuda beside him. They did actually date. For months freshman year before calling it quits. And now by some unknown fact, she's back. They're not actually together, at least not that I know of, but they have been spotted together frequently.

"And she just so happened to sign up for theater...with you?"

"You know," he begins, brushing the loose strands of hair behind my shoulder. "This shade of green you're wearing looks pretty cute on you."

I glance down, taking in the deep purple shirt I'm currently dressed in before connecting back with him. "I'm not wearing–" my words stop, the smirk on his face making all the pieces fall into place. I quickly reach out to give him a nice little friendly shove. "I'm not jealous."

"No? Because it'd be okay if you were. It's actually kind of flattering."

"Yeah, anything that adds to that inflated ego of yours would make you smile. Including the fact that Mrs. Garcia next door said your dimples belong on the cover of a magazine."

His smile widens. "I mean, was she wrong?"

"The point is, she said the exact same thing about the three year old Walker twins down the street. And yet you still go out of your way to flash her that smile of yours every time you offer to wheel her trash in for her."

"Who am I to deprive the woman of what she wants?"

"You're ridiculous."

"Ridiculously charming?"

"Ridiculously–"

"Alright," Brynn's voice fills the room as she makes her way to the front, cutting me off from completing my comeback. "This year's spring play is going to be a bit different. Unlike in the past, we're not doing a Broadway classic. Instead, we're doing a script that I wrote."

Wait, what? Can she do that?

The room seems to have fallen quiet, probably asking themselves the very same question. To be honest, I actually think it's pretty badass that we're about to bring her own words—her own vision—to life.

She glances around the room before continuing. "It's about a girl finding her voice through music. Finding passion and love along the way. This story, I think, has a powerful message, and it's close to my heart. So that being said, and the fact that this is already unorthodox, I'm requiring that everyone tries out for the leads."

My breath stops midway out my throat, my heart already ricocheting across my rib cage. Did she just say what I think she said?

"Shit. I picked the wrong semester to take theater," Max mumbles beside me, but his words fade out behind the loud ringing taking over.

"Now, I don't care if you're not a singer or if you're just here for the interest in stage tech. I want to see everyone. I'm looking for some very specific qualities for my leading lady and man, and I have a feeling they could be hidden somewhere in this room."

"What qualities are you looking for?" Desiree speaks up. She's gotten nearly every lead throughout the years. She lives for acting, and her voice is really pretty good. Between her and Rachel, one of them always gets the lead. And rightfully so.

Brynn's eyes land on her then roll over to Rachel before she smiles. "Nothing about this play is ordinary. So, I'm not divulging anymore of my vision for my leads. I want you all to take the script home. Internalize the characters. See what qualities become apparent to you, and bring them to tryouts later this week."

"Wait. You aren't giving us any direction of what you want?" Rachel speaks up now.

"No. I want to see what you all are truly capable of."

I can hear a frustrated breath leaving Desiree's mouth as she eyes Rachel. The two leading ladies, always at battle for that top spot.

"What happens if we don't try out?" Nate asks in the back. He and I have become pretty good friends hiding behind the lights, observing the theatrics that go beyond the script.

"This is one of your assignments. You don't do it, you'll be getting a zero, just like any other class."

There's a swarm of whispers now spreading like wildfire, the shock of Brynn's words pulsating across the crowd.

Not me.

I'm still frozen in shock. I need the A. I need to ace every freaking class to get a scholarship. And I need a scholarship to get out of here, to stand on my own two feet. To prove to myself that I can.

"Hey," Max whispers beside me. My eyes slowly rip themselves away from the chair in front of me. When they find his, he leans in. "You good?"

I still can't seem to find my breath. It's frantic and uneven, heavy yet shallow.

"Okay, okay," Brynn speaks up again, my eyes leaving the comforting swirls of brown beside me and finding her. "I know this is a lot to take in, but tryouts will be later this week. It's a short turnaround as I need to find my leads and start rehearsing sooner than later. I expect you to partner up, and be ready to audition on Friday. Just understand that you and your partner, while auditioning together, will be evaluated separately. I'm looking for something special, something that I have a very good feeling I will find right here."

When she begins handing out scripts, the group begins to scatter, all racing to find the perfect partner. Even though she said we'll be evaluated separately, we all know a dynamic duo would steal the show. And that very fact already has both Desiree and Rachel practically begging Johnny to partner with them. He's gotten every leading role over the last year and a half. And he's good. Really freaking good.

Before I have a chance to react, a dark veil of silky hair swings into view. My eyes shift, attempting to focus as Cassandra slides herself into Max's lap, her arm draped over his shoulder.

"Can you believe it?" she asks with a smile. "The semester you and I both sign up, there's a required duet? It's like it was meant to be." Her eyes leave his to hold mine as she lets those last few words roll off her tongue.

"Actually," Max begins, his eyes holding mine before turning to look at her. Their faces are close, practically touching, and for some reason, it causes me to turn away.

"Hey, Olivia," Nate slides in next to me, thankfully drowning out whatever it is the two lovebirds are saying to one another.

"Hey, Nate."

"Can you believe this? I don't even sing in the shower. I don't know how I'm supposed to audition in front of a whole room of people."

"I know. I only sign up so I can fade into the shadows backstage."

He smiles, sliding his glasses up the bridge of his nose and nodding his head. "Me too. But hey, partners? We can awkwardly stumble through this together and then hide backstage for the rest of the semester. Both wallowing in shame."

My chest constricts again, the thought of being on that stage is still messing with my ability to breathe.

"What do you say?" he questions, pulling me back. "Suffer together?"

Maybe he's right. Maybe if we both just suffer through this, both in the same realm of misery, then we can both hide together when it's all said and done.

"Partners." I nod.

He reaches out a shaky hand as my eyes catch his. They're a lighter shade than the one I've grown accustomed looking into. A soft green. And even though they're hidden behind the thick frames of his glasses, they're actually kind of beautiful. I pull my eyes away as I glance down at his trembling fingers. I reach out my hand, giving him a friendly shake.

"Uh, yeah," Max says beside me, a rather deep and unnecessary volume to his voice now. I turn to face him, watching as his hand falls to Cassandra's thigh. "I'd love to be partners."

"Perfect!" She beams, making sure to flash me her smile one more nauseating time. "We'll have to get together this week and practice. You know..." She leans in, perching her lips beside his ear, the one conveniently closest to me. "I'm not one to lose. So even if it takes us all night this week, we're going to nail this audition."

Was that meant to be sexy? I think that was a seductress move. And judging by the way her boobs are smashed up against his chest and her hand grips his neck tells me exactly that.

This shade of green you're wearing looks pretty cute on you. Max's words come ripping back through my mind. I quickly shake them off. That's not what this is. That's not what I'm feeling. I can't be. I don't.

I'm not jealous.

***

"Marry, ditch, or kiss?" Ryder sings out from across the table.

"Not this again, Ry. I'm not choosing between celebrities I'll never even have the chance to meet anyway."

"Oh, come on, have a little fun, Olivia. Not everything has to be taken so seriously all the time. Especially now, I think you could use a distraction."

I've spent every spare moment this week rehearsing with Nate. And not a single ounce of it feels like enough. It's why I dragged Ryder to JJs Diner to drown my stress in some greasy distraction.

"Fine, give me the names," I relent, rolling my eyes as she bounces up, all signs of pleading now covered in victory.

"Okay. I'm actually changing it up. No names, just careers. You ready?"

No. "Yep."

She rubs her hands together, sitting up straight before resting her elbows on the table. "Famous musician, pro athlete, or professor."

Interesting. I rest my chin on my hand, thinking about each scenario. Some more obvious than the others.

"I would probably kiss the athlete because hello muscles." My answer has Ryder quickly smiling, a little shocked at my admission. Hey, I might be the only almost seventeen-year-old who's never been kissed, but that doesn't mean I don't have eyes that like to wander. "I'd marry the professor because he'd be intelligent and well rounded, and ditch the musician. He'd have way too many women thrown his way. You know, at concerts and on tour?" I cringe at the thought. "Especially on tour, God only knows what happens on those things."

Her eyes widen for a brief moment as she leans back in her seat. "Really? I honestly thought you'd ditch the athlete. Who, by the way, would have just as many women thrown his way."

I simply shrug my shoulders. "You're right, he would. But I don't know, sports is such a general fanbase. People get...attached to music and the musicians that create it. I don't want any part of that fan mania."

She nods, looking deep in thought as she mulls over my words. "I don't know," she begins, sitting up now. "I think it would be nice to know you're the one the musician feels most connected to. And as for the groupies, it's kind of hot to know your man is so utterly desired."

I shake my head, but before I can respond, Ryder's onto something else. Her brows wiggle a couple times as her eyes dance over my shoulder. "And speaking of potential professors."

"Hey, Olivia," a deep voice sounds behind me as I slowly turn to face Nate. I quickly check the time on my phone making sure I'm not late for our rehearsal.

"Oh, you're not late," he quickly jumps back in as he continues to stand awkwardly behind me. "I just, uh, I came to get something to eat before we meet, and I saw you here. Sorry, I, um, I didn't mean to interrupt you two."

He turns to leave, but I quickly jump in. "You weren't interrupting, Nate. Why don't you join us? We just ordered."

"Oh," he glances at Ryder then back to me before looking over at the front door. For what reason, I haven't a clue. "I don't want to intrude."

"For heaven's sake," Ryder blurts, throwing her hands up as both of our eyes shoot her way. "The girl asked you to join us. So sit."

Nate nods, quickly pulling out a chair and plopping down beside me.

"So," Ryder jumps back in, the tone lacing her voice much more calm and energetic this time. "What is it you like to do for fun, Mr. Miller?"

He glances over to me before looking back at my very intimidating friend. The term fiery redhead is no understatement, especially when it comes to Ryder.

"Oh, uh..." He runs his hand through his hair before adjusting his glasses on his face. Something he seems to do often. It's actually kind of sweet. "I enjoy mountain biking."

How in the world, after all the time we've spent backstage together, have I not learned this about him?

"Like in the mountains?" Ryder redundantly asks.

He laughs, the tension and nerves now easing from his shoulders. "Yeah, hence the use of the word mountain."

I can't help but laugh alongside him. The fact that he actually has a bit of comeback in him is a side I wasn't aware of.

"Sorry, you just don't strike me as the off-road type of biker."

"And what exactly does an off-road biker look like?" he questions, leaning forward on his elbows to challenge her back.

There's a proud smirk falling across Ryder's face. "Apparently a lot like you, Mr. Miller." She falls back, her eyes scanning him as he somehow manages to stand his ground.

"So," I interrupt, breaking their little staring contest. "How crazy do these trails get that you go on?"

He hesitates a moment, turning himself to face me a bit more with this newfound sense of confidence. "It depends. Some trails are pretty flat, more for beginners, others get pretty rough. It all depends on what you're looking for."

He reaches for his phone, pulling open his camera roll and flipping through various pictures and videos. We spend the next several minutes watching videos of him and his buddies flying down hills. Some right alongside a steep drop-off that seems absolutely insane to be willingly racing down on two wheels. Not to mention a few impressive jumps he effortlessly lands.

"Wow," Ryder grips his phone in her hands, "this is pretty freaking sick. Olivia, are you seeing this?"

"Yeah, Ry, I see it. It is actually pretty cool," I agree, connecting my eyes back with his. "I don't know how you fly down those hills like that.

I can see a small smile on his face. It's innocent and maybe even a little ounce of pride laced in there. He should be proud. He's actually really talented.

"It takes a lot of practice, but mostly, you just have to trust yourself. You can't hesitate or second guess what it is you're doing. And don't get me wrong, I've had some pretty brutal wipeouts too. You're only looking at the good stuff."

"Ah," I smile, getting ready to challenge him just a bit. "Trying to impress us?"

That layer of confidence he's coated himself in when it comes to mountain biking stays rooted in place as his smile shifts into a smirk.

"Are you impressed?" he questions back, holding my somewhat shocked gaze with his.

"Maybe a little," I reply with my own little smirk before dropping my eyes to my hands. It's kind of cool to know there's this other side to him. Sure as heck will make our backstage conversations a bit more fascinating.

It falls quiet for a moment, my thoughts still trying to grasp who the heck is sitting beside me right now.

"So," Ryder jumps back in, sliding his phone back across the table. "Would you consider yourself an athlete, Nate?" She emphasizes the word athlete as she shoots her knowing glare toward me. Of course she's going to hold our little marry, ditch, or kiss conversation against me.

He grabs his phone, tucking it back into his pocket before adjusting his glasses again. "Well, there's an incredible amount of balance and muscle control involved as well as an awareness of your body, so yeah, I guess you could say I'm an athlete."

Her eyes shoot right on back to mine as that little smirk of hers builds again. "An intellectual athlete. What are the odds?"

His eyebrows furrow together as he looks to me for help. I'm too busy giving Ryder the shut up eyes.

"You don't happen to play an instrument do you?" she asks him, clearly ignoring my silent plea to stop talking.

"Uh, no. I mean, my mom tried to get me to learn the piano when I was a kid, but I just never seemed to take to it."

Her eyes light up, her mouth dropping to add something, but before she has the chance, I jump back in. "Alright, I really think we should get going. The audition is tomorrow and we still have some work to do."

"You mean I have work to do," he clarifies. "You actually have a phenomenal voice."

The shade of pink that pushes across my face comes without warning, causing me to quickly look away.

"Uh, yeah," he says now, looking away before reaching for his glasses again. "Let me just use the restroom and I can drive us?"

I let the rose color drain from my face before looking back at him. "Yeah. That sounds good."

He nods quickly before excusing himself from the table, giving a quick nod to Ryder in the process.

"So," Ryder draws out, much longer than is necessary. "You and Nate have been spending an awful lot of time together the last few days. I mean, he is kind of cute in his own nerdy little way, no?"

Here we go. "How come every time I start talking to a guy you start planning my wedding?"

"Because I'm bored! You haven't even gone on a date. And you know how much of a hopeless romantic I am. I just want you to find your happiness. And what better way to do that than with an athletic smarty pants who just so happens to check your boxes."

"That little game you played earlier has nothing to do with my boxes."

"Oh, no? You're saying you don't find him the least bit attractive?"

I can't help but glance over toward the direction he just walked in. The way he constantly touches his glasses before answering a question, almost as if he's giving himself the extra moment to think. The way he innocently stutters and then sheds it all away when he's talking about something he's passionate about. It's cute. Endearing really.

I take a small breath, bringing my attention back to my friend. "I mean, yeah he is cute. And he is really nice, it's just..."

"You don't get the urge for him to press you up against a wall and have his way with you?" she bluntly states, causing me to reach for a fry and chuck it at her.

"Ryder!"

"Oh, come on. You can still be an innocent virgin and desire very sinful things."

I roll my eyes before slamming my face in my hands. "No, I don't get the urge for him to press me up against a wall," I mumble behind my hands.

"Interesting," she sings out, causing my hands to drop and take in her mischievous smile.

"Interesting?"

"Yes, interesting. Because the way you just said that makes me think you know exactly what feeling I'm talking about, which means you've felt that feeling before. Question is, with who?"

"You ready?" Nate reappears, saving me from not only having to answer that question, but letting my thoughts travel to that place. The very one that it has only wandered briefly, in tiny moments here and there. In moments I've buried over the years. And I plan on keeping them buried. Because letting them out, facing what they could actually mean, sounds dangerously terrifying.

I give Ryder one more look as she continues to stare at me, waiting for an answer I don't ever intend to give. Not to her, and sure as hell not to myself.

I slowly push my chair out, turning to Nate. "Yeah, let's go."