After the showcase, we’re given a little more time to unpack our stuff and settle in. Riley and I stick together the entire time—back in the room, she shows me all her juggling equipment, including the purple clubs and poi (these balls-on-strings things that are swung around in intricate patterns) she said she had to special order from New England. Her bed is completely covered with clubs and scarves and balls and rings, a rainbow of different juggling equipment, and she has me try all of them out in turn. I’m still only able to do the three-ball pass she taught me earlier, but she assures me that it’s really good for my first time.
“Keep this up,” she says, “and you’ll be better than me soon.” She grins. “But then I’d have to kill you, so maybe pretend to be stupid at auditions tomorrow.”
Auditions. The word sends a small jolt through me again, and I fumble the pass I was just attempting. According to the sheet that had been taped to our door, we’ll be trying out for ground skills and aerial skills at different times. I first figured I’d skip trying out for a ground skill, but now that I’m seriously thinking about this flying trapeze thing, I’m wondering if it might be best to have a backup.
“You’ll be okay,” Riley says, catching my mood. “You’re totally a natural. If you have half the skill you’re showing at juggling, you’ll be a master of the flying trap in no time.”
Her smile is so confident, so assuring, that I don’t have the heart to tell her that they’re completely different skill sets, that I can’t do a pull-up in gym and definitely don’t do gymnastics or any number of things all the other campers seem to have in their back pockets. I keep my mouth shut, and she goes back to folding her myriad of skirts. I force myself back to juggling.
When there’s a knock at the door a few minutes later, I nearly jump. But it’s just Leena.
She smiles approvingly at all the juggling equipment splayed on the bed when she steps in.
“Looks like you both are settling in quite nicely,” she says. Her smile is so perfect, so practiced, it’s kind of hard to tell if she means it. But she honestly does look pleased by the fact that we’re both practicing so early on in the game. “I didn’t know you juggled as well, Jennifer.”
I shrug and set the balls down. I’m surprised she actually remembered my name; there have to be at least thirty other kids here, and I know I sure wouldn’t have remembered them all. “Riley just taught me,” I say. “She’s a really good teacher.”
“I’m impressed. See? You really are a natural.” Another grin, this one I’m pretty certain is real. “Anyway, I just wanted to drop in and see if you ladies needed anything. Tanya and I will be your hall counselors. Our room’s at the end of the hall.”
“We’re okay,” I say. “I don’t think I’ve met Tanya, though.”
“Oh, she’s fantastic,” Leena says. “She’s actually one of the flying trapeze coaches, so you’ll get along just fine. I’m sure you’ll see her during the games tonight.” The schedule had said something about team-building games, but it wasn’t any more specific than that. I’m not about to ask, either. “Anyway, I’m gonna keep making introductions. I’ll see you at dinner!”
“She seems nice,” Riley says when the door shuts behind Leena.
“Yeah,” I say. “I hope they’re all like that.”
Riley laughs. “Probably not—I hear the contortion coaches are really tough. But hey, we’re only here a few days.” There’s a pause. “Speaking of, you’re going to have to act fast if you want to grab that Branden kid.”
Just like when I think about the flying trap, my heart skips a beat. Probably for very different reasons, though.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie.
“Right,” she says with a laugh. “You were just drooling because you were thinking of dinner.” She flops down on the bed beside me. “C’mon, he’s really cute and really talented. I bet he’s a really good kisser, too. You’d be stupid not to fall for him.”
“Unless you have a boyfriend already?” she asks.
I shake my head. Stupidly, I’m finding I can’t actually speak. I’m still stuck on the idea of kissing Branden. More somersaults in my chest. My face flushes even hotter.
“Uh-oh,” she says, rolling onto her side to stare at me. I’m pretty certain my cheeks are the same color as her hair. “I know that look.”
“What look?” I ask.
“That look,” she says. “You have had a boyfriend before, haven’t you?”
“Not . . . not really.” Unless you count Tony in fifth grade, who got me a stuffed bear on Valentine’s Day and became so embarrassed he never talked to me again. And I definitely don’t count that.
“So you’ve never kissed a boy either?”
I shake my head. Definitely no way I’ll get my words to work for that response.
She sighs very dramatically. “It’s worse than I thought,” she bemoans.
“Oh, come on,” I say, rediscovering my voice and giving her a little shove. “It’s not that bad. Is it?” The last bit comes out as a squeak.
“No. No, definitely not. It’s totally normal.” Like Leena’s smile, I don’t believe she’s being entirely honest. “But it does mean we’re going to have to act fast. Branden’s kind of perfect, and you’re going to have to nab him before someone else does.”
I bite my lip. Be more interesting than a circus girl? Like that will be an easy task.
“What about you?” I ask, trying to turn the tables. “Why don’t you want to date him?”
“I’m taken,” she says. She holds out her right hand—there’s a tiny silver ring with a ruby on her pinkie finger. “Sandy and I have been together for almost a year now.”
“Sandy?”
She hops off the bed and pulls her phone from a pocket in her duffel bag, then thumbs through the gallery until she holds it out to me. Onscreen is a gangly, mousy-haired boy with more freckles than Riley and a doofy grin on his face.
“Isn’t he dreamy?” she asks.
I smile. “Totally.”
“He’s a stilt walker. And he juggles. We even have a partner routine together.” She grins at the photo, then me, and slides the phone back in her bag. “I tell you, circus boys are the best. If you can get them to stop practicing, that is.”
She looks back to me.
“This is going to be great. We’re totally going to get you a boyfriend!”
I shake my head. “Good luck,” I say.
“I don’t need luck, I have skill. And a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
She doesn’t answer, just takes my hand, pulling me off the bed.
“Time for dinner!” she says with a wink.
I interrogate her the entire way to the cafeteria, but she doesn’t divulge her secret agenda. Not one bit.
• • •
Tyler meets us in the hall as we head to dinner. He hugs both of us the moment he sees us. Again, we’ve only known each other for an hour or so, but there’s a camaraderie that feels like it’s years in the making.
“How’s the room?” he asks as he follows us into the cafeteria. Only half the space is in use, since there are so few of us. The other part is just storage from the rest of the year.
“Tiny,” Riley says. She grins at me. “Good thing Jennifer doesn’t smell bad. Otherwise it would be nasty.”
“Lucky you,” he replies. “I don’t think my roommate knows what a shower is.”
“Ew,” I respond.
“You have no idea. And hopefully you never will.”
Dinner that night is pretty good: roast veggies and chicken, a big pasta bake, lots of fresh bread and salads and sides, and even a huge sheet cake with the words WELCOME TO THE CIRCUS written in purple frosting. I help myself to a little bit of everything; I don’t think I’ve had so many options in my life.
I’m so engrossed in talking to Tyler as we leave the line that I don’t even realize where Riley has guided us until it’s too late: right next to Branden. He’s sitting at a table with a few other guys, all of them talking about some show they’ve just seen and the cool tricks they want to learn. I nearly drop my tray when I see him. I glare at Riley instead.
“Hey, guys,” she says brightly, ignoring my furious stare. “Mind if we sit here?”
And even though I’m purposely avoiding his eyes, I can feel Branden watching me. “Sure,” he says, and I’m trapped.
We sit down, and the guys all introduce themselves. I’m too busy trying not to shake or drop my tray to catch any of their names, and I’m so absorbed in the task that I don’t even realize when the introductions roll around to me.
“And this is Jennifer,” Riley says, coming to my rescue before I can blab out an apology. “She’s actually a local, and what she lacks in eloquence she makes up for in raw talent.”
I try to grin.
“What she said,” I say.
It’s impossible to actually pay attention to the conversation. My hands won’t stop shaking as I try to eat my chicken, and taking a drink of water is embarrassing at best. Riley notices, I know—her nudge under the table is sign enough. But everyone else is either oblivious or too polite to say anything.
Until Branden stops taking part in the group’s talk of who makes the best shoes for floor work and leans across the table toward me.
“So, what are you auditioning for?”
I nearly choke on my food.
“Flying trapeze,” I say, and I pray it doesn’t sound like the question I feel it is.
“That’s awesome,” he replies. “I live, like, half an hour away. Maybe we could start doing lessons together.”
I glance up at him then, and his brown eyes are so intent on me I could melt under them. But maybe he’s just like Tyler was when I first met him—quick to warm up, easy to show interest. There’s no way this guy is interested in me. I’m definitely not impressive enough for someone like him.
“That would be cool,” I say after too long a pause. I managed to forget that he was probably expecting an answer. In spite of my awkwardness, he smiles.
“How long have you been flying?” he asks.
“I haven’t,” I respond, and I feel my stomach sink into the floor below. “This will be my first time.”
“Exciting,” he says. “Everyone has a first time. And you’ll remember it for as long as you live.”
“What was your first time like?” I ask.
“Magical,” he says. Then he laughs to himself. “And terrifying. I think I nearly passed out.”
I let myself grin, but the knots in my gut just won’t relax. If he was scared of his first leap, how in the world will I be able to manage?
“Well then, I guess you’ll be in for a show tomorrow morning.”
And he smiles, so maybe I’m not as hopeless as I fear I am.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Riley says to my left. “We’ll all be there cheering you on.”
I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.