Twelve TwelveI’m not usually a morning person, and I’m definitely not the type of girl who wakes up before her alarm with a smile on her face. But for some reason, when the alarm goes off and my dreams slide from memory, it feels like I’m being given a fresh start. It’s my second full day of camp, and today there are no scary auditions, no awkward getting-to-know-you games. I have a friend group and an act in the works. I also have a boy’s heart to win. I take a deep breath and roll over in bed, looking to Riley, who’s managing to sleep through her phone’s alarm ringtone. All that’s sticking out of the tangled covers is her hair. I toss my pillow at her and grin when she jumps and mumbles herself awake.
“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey!” I call out.
She mumbles again and looks over at me.
“You’re cruel,” she says, her voice muffled from under the covers.
“Just repaying the kindness,” I say. “Can’t have my amazing juggling partner sleeping through breakfast.” I throw my last pillow at her. She snatches it from the air with catlike reflexes.
“This is war,” she mutters, covering her head with the pillow.
“Then all is fair,” I say, and hop off the bed to head to the shower.
• • •
We spot Tyler and Kevin at breakfast and sit down across from them. I don’t miss the quick motion when we approach—they were holding hands and quickly let go to eat their scrambled eggs. I catch Riley’s eye and grin. Those two are already so cute together, it’s almost not fair.
“Morning, ladies,” Tyler says when we set our trays down.
“Morning, beautiful,” Riley says to Kevin. She smiles when she sits. “Oh, and hello, Tyler.”
Tyler laughs and rolls his eyes. “Charming as ever.”
“What’s the agenda for today?” I ask. I’ve already read the schedule, but who knows: They might have announced something new before we got to the cafeteria.
“The usual,” Tyler replies. “Group warm-up, then practice, practice, practice.”
“Any clue what we’re doing tonight?” Riley asks.
“Talent show,” Kevin says. He points to a sign on the wall. “Sign-ups are over there. Not mandatory, of course, but ‘highly recommended.’ ”
“Great,” I mutter. One more chance to show everyone just how little talent I actually have. If only I had some skill I could whip out and impress Branden with. Anything to make me a little more flashy than his contortionist crush.
Almost out of habit, I glance over to where Branden’s sitting. Then I’m reminded why I shouldn’t have bothered looking; he’s sitting right next to Megan, her sisters on the other side. One of the sisters—I think it’s Sara—notices my glance and gives me what actually looks like a weary gaze, like she’s empathizing with my abject hatred at seeing Megan and Branden together. Which is stupid, because she’s Megan’s sister, so obviously Sara’s on her side.
“She’ll never give up, will she?” Riley asks, noticing my gaze.
“Doubtful,” I say. “She’s going in for the kill.”
“That’s okay,” she says, nudging me. “Because neither will you. True love will win out!”
I tear my gaze away from Branden and look back to her. “True love?”
She smiles and shrugs. “Dream big.”
“You should do something for the show,” Tyler says. “You know, show her up.”
I laugh. “Like what? I can’t even do the splits.”
“Group act,” Tyler says. He looks to Riley. “I’m sure we can think of something impressive by tonight.”
She mimes putting on a hat. “Thinking caps on, Watson.”
“Sherlock never said that,” Kevin says.
“I’m an artist. I’m allowed to improvise.”
• • •
Riley and I team up for the morning warm-up because, apparently, the way to winning Branden’s heart is now to play hard to get. When he steps into the gym with Megan attached to his arm like a leech, however, my heart sinks. Maybe playing hard to get is doing her a favor. Clearly, she’s not using the same tactic, and her direct approach is definitely doing more than any of my coyness ever could.
Just seeing her touching his arm sends an equal mix of rage and jealousy flooding through my veins. I would do anything to trade places with her. I know Riley said he wasn’t the type to play me, and I don’t think he is. So why is he with her? Why isn’t he trying to spend more time with me? Did the trapeze thing really bother him more than he let on?
Maybe if he asks me to the dance, I’ll know for sure. I just hope I don’t have to ask him first.
Riley snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Jennifer,” she says, bouncing on her heels. I shake my head clear and look at her. “You’re starting to stare.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
Luckily, I’m not given much more time to make a fool of myself. One of the coaches blows a whistle and the warm-ups begin, first with a few laps around the gym, then jumping jacks, and then some impromptu dancing to “loosen up those joints and get your creative juices flowing.” I don’t know if it achieves the latter, but it definitely makes me feel silly, and entirely unprepared for the actual dance coming up. These circus people know how to move.
After the dancing, we do partner crunches and push-ups, along with some evil thing called “hollow body” that involves lying with my back flat on the ground and my legs hovering inches from the floor. After about ten minutes of sweating through the workout, it’s time for some stretching. In the back of my mind, I can’t help but wonder how this is important to juggling, but at least everyone’s doing the same work.
I thought seeing Branden and Megan together at breakfast was bad enough. I was wrong. Seeing them do partner stretches together, well, that’s a whole new level of awkward. Megan’s extreme flexibility just makes it worse.
“Ignore her,” Riley says. She’s leaning against my back, pressing my nose just a little bit closer to my knees as I reach for my toes. It’s easy to follow her advice—it feels like my legs are on fire. In a good way. If it weren’t for the fact that Megan situated herself and Branden practically right across from us, I would have completely forgotten she was there in light of the pain.
“I’m doing my best,” I say, and bury my face back in my knees. Well, I attempt to, anyway.
I almost succeed, too, until we go into a straddle stretch. I actually blush when I look over and see Megan with her legs spread wide and her chest flat on the ground, Branden practically standing on top of her. Her eyes are closed, but he blinks his open and notices my quick stare. He gives me a look that’s impossible to decode. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say he looks a little embarrassed.
I avert my eyes and focus on the stretch. I’m nowhere near getting my chest to the floor, but it still burns.
“More,” I tell Riley, and she presses me even farther past the edge of comfort.
• • •
Riley and I head straight to the little tent outside the gym once warm-ups are over. As we pass Branden and Megan, Riley makes sure to exclaim, very loudly, “I’m so excited for our act tonight, Jenn! You’re going to be amazing.”
I don’t know if it does anything beyond make me blush—those two might not have even heard it. I try not to let myself look at Branden again. Hard to get, hard to get. So I smile and laugh and say I can’t wait either. I just hope I’m half as convincing as Riley. I also hope we’re able to follow through with an act that isn’t a complete disaster.
“What are we going to do?” I ask her once we’re safely out of the gym and away from Branden and his contortionist “friend.”
She shakes her head. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” She gives me a quick glance. “I’m just assuming you don’t have some magical ground act you haven’t told us about yet, do you?”
“Nope,” I say with a shrug. “I already told you—this is the only circus I’ve done.”
“What about something else? Something not circus? Like, if this was just a normal school talent show, what would you do?”
“Watch.”
She nudges me in the ribs. It’s a beautiful, sunny day outside, but I don’t feel the sunny optimism. I was so excited this morning. Funny how seeing Branden stretching with someone else was enough to pop that bubble. If only because I really wish that she had been me.
“Seriously,” she says. “You have to have something up your sleeve. You’re too cool to be boring.”
I laugh. No one’s actually called me cool before. At least, no one outside of my tiny circle of friends. Seeing as our usual pastime is playing video games together, that’s not really saying much.
“Well,” I say, “I was in our school musical last year.”
Riley practically squeaks with excitement. She stalls outside the flap of the tent and grabs my arm.
“No way, really? You can sing and dance and all that?”
“Um, yes? I mean, I can sing. Sort of. I’m not so certain now that you’re staring at me like that.”
She smiles and hops up and down a few times.
“We could totally do a group musical number. I’m positive the boys would be down. You can sing and we’ll be the backup dancers!”
“I don’t know . . . ,” I begin, but she cuts me off with a hug.
“Oh, this is going to be amazing! We’re totally gonna blow that contortionist jerk out of the water.”
And just like that, I’ve pretty much sealed my death warrant. There’s no time to argue, either; Riley grabs my arm and drags me into the practice tent, already rambling on about what song to pick and what we’re going to wear.