‘Leave-in conditioner, that’s what you need,’ said Jean as she sat behind me, combing my hair. She kept hitting pockets of knots and just about ripping my head off.

‘Ow!’ I yelled for the millionth time as she hit another clump of knots. She ignored me, and kept chattering away about all the hair products I needed to use.

This wasn’t the way I’d usually choose to spend a Sunday afternoon. I felt like I was four again, with Jean using me as a hair model. It was all Tess’s fault that I was sitting here. Usually on Sunday afternoons we’d hang out, maybe see a movie or make scones with her mum and then scoff them all.

But she couldn’t understand how I could even consider choosing acting over netball, and now she wasn’t answering my texts. How was she going to react when I told her I’d decided to do the play?

‘If you’re going to play Juliet, you need perfect hair,’ said Jean, reaching the end of the combing torture. At least Jean was happy with my decision.

‘I really don’t think the audience will be looking at my hair. Surely they’ll be more concerned about whether I know my lines and can make the character convincing,’ I said. Jean always managed to bring everything back to hair.

‘When I was acting, I always found it made a big difference if I felt like I was the character. Your hairstyle is part of that,’ said Jean quietly.

I was surprised. Jean never talked to me about acting. This was the most time we’d spent together in years.

As Jean started styling my hair, she said, ‘Have you worked out what you’re going to say to Tess yet?’

I sighed. I had no idea how to break the news to Tess.

‘Obviously not,’ said Jean. ‘That’s going to be a fun conversation.’

I tried to turn around to glare at her, but she kept a fierce grip on my hair and kept pinning it up.

‘Ow, that hurts!’ I screeched.

‘Not as much as it will when Tess stops talking to you,’ said Jean. Honestly, I already felt sick about having to tell Tess, I didn’t need Jean making me feel even worse.

‘Can you stop?’ I asked crossly.

‘Sorry. It’s just that you two have played netball together for like, forever.’

‘Yeah, I know. But I can’t just play because of Tess,’ I said defensively, wishing at least Jean would understand.

‘But you have up until now,’ said Jean.

‘No I haven’t!’ I said angrily. ‘I love netball. I play because I want to, not because Tess wants me to.’

‘Really? I always thought you played because it’s easy for you. And you want to hang out with Tess.’

I thought about what Jean had said. Was that true? Did I just play because my friend did? Because I didn’t really have to work hard? But I did love netball, though.

‘I would have played state but it clashed with acting,’ I said, sounding defensive again. ‘And it’s not wrong to do something with your best friend. You do. You spend all your time with Rosie.’

Jean laughed. ‘Yeah, but only because Rosie wants to do the same things I do. She’s not making me run around a netball court all week!’

I felt awful. Was that the reason I hadn’t joined the regional team? Because I only wanted to play if Tess did?

‘Edie, you started drama classes because of me, didn’t you?’ said Jean.

‘Sort of,’ I said, embarrassed that it had clearly been so obvious. ‘But I stayed after you dropped out.’

‘Good. You can’t just do things because your friends do. Or worse – your big sister!’

I groaned. ‘Do you understand why I want to do the play?’

Jean shrugged. ‘Sure. You’d rather have hot-looking hair than be all sweaty and disgusting. And acting is the bomb!’

I smiled. It was so weird having a conversation like this with my sister, when we couldn’t even see each other’s faces.

‘Why’d you stop acting, Jean?’

Instead of answering me, Jean handed me the mirror. ‘Take a look, Edie.’

It was amazing. I couldn’t believe how different I looked. All my hair was pinned up in little sections and you could actually see my face, which was usually hiding behind a mess of long, unruly knots. ‘Wow,’ I said, seriously impressed.

‘Yeah, you look okay,’ said Jean, sounding surprised. ‘It would help if you didn’t have such a high forehead.’

I glared at her in the mirror and she shrugged. ‘I’ve got it too, don’t worry. It’s Mum’s fault.’

‘Where did you learn how to do this?’ I asked.

‘I can’t tell you that! I’d have to kill you,’ said Jean, laughing.

My phone beeped, interrupting our sisterly moment. Jean raised an eyebrow. ‘That’ll be Tess.’

I read the text. One word.

Decided?

‘I have to go and see her,’ I said, even though I was dreading the conversation.

‘Why? It’s so much easier giving bad news in a text. Just message her,’ said Jean, examining her forehead in the mirror.

I was willing to take make-up and hair advice from Jean, but I wasn’t about to extend that to friendship counselling. ‘Thanks for the hair,’ I said, touching all the hairpins and wondering how I was ever going to get them out.

‘Good luck,’ sang Jean with a huge smile. She was obviously enjoying my pain.

I left Jean preening herself and called out to tell Dad I was riding over to Tess’s. I heard a muffled ‘Okay!’ from the study as I opened the front door.

It wasn’t much fun pulling a bike helmet on over about two hundred hairpins, but I managed. Tess’s house was a ten-minute ride from mine. I tried to rehearse what I was going to say when I saw her, but I kept imagining her face when she realised I was giving up my spot on the netball team. I wondered if anything could prepare me for how she would react.

I dumped my bike with all the other bikes on the front porch and rang the doorbell. Within seconds, I could hear feet running down the hall, and then yelling. It was probably the twins. They always fought over who got to open the door. When the door swung open I heard a sigh. ‘It’s only Edie,’ said Jacob, turning away. I was around so much I didn’t even register as a real guest.

‘Hi to you too, Jacob,’ I said to his disappearing back.

Tess’s room was right down the back of the house, away from everyone else. I walked down the hall nervously, hoping her mum or dad wouldn’t pop out for a chat about how great state netball would be. Luckily, I made it all the way without seeing anyone except Tess’s cat, Cheesecake. He snaked his way around my legs as I tried to decide whether to knock or just go straight in. I felt like it might be better if I knocked.

‘Tess?’ I called as I knocked quietly on her door. I think I was half hoping she wouldn’t hear me, and I could sneak away again. But the door opened straight away. ‘What’s with the hair?’ Tess said in her usual direct way.

I laughed as I followed her into the room. ‘One word – Jean.’

‘Right. It looks very …’

‘Juliet-ish?’ I finished her sentence, not realising what I was saying. She stepped back, realising what I’d come to tell her.

I took a deep breath and sat down on the couch I always slept on when I stayed over. Yep, Tess’s room was big enough for a couch. But she didn’t sit. She stood on the other side of the room, staring at me.

‘So you’re doing the play,’ she said flatly.

I nodded. Tess sighed and turned to look out the window.

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but I’ll never get another chance to play Juliet. I can always try out for state next season.’

Tess turned around and shook her head. ‘But you won’t be with me then,’ she said softly, kicking the edge of her bed to avoid looking at me.

I realised she was right. It was pretty unlikely I’d ever play state with Tess – she’d always be a year ahead of me now, even if I did get in next year. ‘I might be,’ I said softly, suddenly wondering if I’d made the right choice.

Tess looked up at me. ‘I thought we were chasing the same thing – professional netball. You could be really good, Edie. Really good. And you have a spot on the team already. Why pass that up and risk not getting in next year?’ she asked sadly.

I didn’t know what to say. Tess was right. There was no guarantee I’d get in next year. Would I even keep playing with the Sapphires? Tess wouldn’t be there – she’d be too busy with state. I hadn’t really considered that. The possibility that Tess and I wouldn’t play together at all anymore.

‘Tess, I love acting. I love being on stage. It’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. If I hadn’t been cast as Juliet, I probably would have chosen the state team. But this is my shot. This is my chance to see if I’m actually any good. Don’t you understand that?’ I said. I was trying to stay calm, but it was hard. Playing Juliet was so important to me, and I really wanted my best friend to understand.

Tess looked up at me, a hurt expression on her face. ‘Is this about Freddy? Because if it is, I’m sure you can hang out with him without doing the play.’

I shot her an angry look. I couldn’t believe she was making it about him. ‘No, it’s not. This is about me, and what I want to do.’

Tess shrugged, and said coldly, ‘Okay. Whatever. It’s your life. Your choice.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ I said, hurt by her response. ‘Just because I’m not choosing netball doesn’t mean you’re not still my best friend.’

‘I know,’ said Tess. ‘But it does mean we won’t see each other as often. And I thought playing state was our dream. I never thought you’d choose acting instead.’

Argh! Now I felt awful. I knew what it meant to me to be playing Juliet. How hard I’d worked on my audition, how much I’d rehearsed in front of the mirror to make sure I didn’t pull weird faces. How I’d dreamt of this since starting drama classes. And how, secretly, my dream was to be a professional actor one day. But I’d never really explained any of that to Tess. Netball had always come first.

‘Tess, I love netball. But really, I think my acting is your netball. I totally love it. The way it makes me feel. How hard I have to work to be good,’ I said, really wanting her to understand what I was saying.

‘Really? I always thought you just did drama because it was fun and you’ve always liked doing lots of different things. Why didn’t you tell me it was so important to you?’ she said, sounding hurt.

‘I don’t know. I guess I didn’t really understand it myself,’ I said.

‘Okay, whatever,’ she said.

But she really didn’t seem to get it. Maybe if we just did normal things together, she’d see that nothing had to change.

‘You want to do something? It’s still early.’

She shook her head. ‘Nah. I’m going over to Maggie’s later. I would’ve asked you to come, but we’re doing netball stuff.’

‘Oh. Right,’ I said, feeling awful as I realised she’d found someone else who shared her netball dream.

‘Besides, don’t you have lines to learn?’ she said, as she turned and walked out of the room.

I felt horrible. We’d never had a fight like this. I wasn’t even sure if she’d forgive me. I followed her down the hall to the front door.

‘Pick me up in the morning?’ I said hopefully. We always rode to school together.

But she shrugged. ‘Think I’m going in early.’

‘Okay,’ I said, defeated. Usually we would hug each other goodbye, but today I just grabbed my bike and left. By the time I reached the road, she’d already gone back inside.

I rode home feeling sick. It had been hard enough making the choice between netball and acting. Now Tess was making me feel like it was somehow about her.

Jean was waiting for me as I walked in. ‘Bad?’ she asked.

I just nodded.

‘Come on. I’ll do your nails.’

‘No thanks,’ I said, dreading the idea. I couldn’t work out why my sister thought a manicure would solve anything.

But Jean ignored me. ‘I have chocolate. I have those horrible red jelly snakes you like, and I have twelve different colours of nail polish to choose from. What else are you going to do? Go upstairs and sulk?’

That had totally been my plan. To lie on my bed, staring at my phone and hoping for a text from Tess. I could see Jean’s point. It was kind of pathetic. Besides, red snakes. And chocolate.

Jean must have seen that I was wavering. She held up a bottle of lime green nail polish. ‘Bet the part would rock this colour,’ she said.

‘Nail polish didn’t exist back then.’

Jean shrugged. ‘Well, if Juliet was around now, she’d be totally into it.’

I rolled my eyes and reached for the enormous block of chocolate on the table, but Jean snatched it away before I could grab it.

‘No manicure, no chocolate,’ she said, holding it high above her head. ‘Come on. Green is definitely your colour.’

I sighed, giving in. ‘Alright, alright.’

Looking triumphant, she handed me the chocolate and manoeuvred me into a chair. She took hold of my right hand and eyed my stubby little chewed-off fingernails, looking horrified. ‘Gross. You don’t have any nails!’

‘I can’t. Because of netball.’

Jean rolled her eyes. ‘Bo-ring,’ she said, dunking my hand into a bowl of goopy water. ‘I’m glad you’re doing the play. You’ll be much more fun now. Besides, I heard you were pretty good.’

Despite how bad I felt about Tess, I smiled. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Jean never said nice things to me.

‘Who told you that?’ I asked.

‘I have contacts,’ she said mysteriously.

While Jean painted and filed and polished my nails, I ate half a block of chocolate and about a gazillion red snakes. But I still felt awful. Even though I’d known Tess would react the way she did, I was hurt that she wouldn’t even try to understand why I was doing the play. I reminded myself that soon I’d be onstage, and it would all be worth it. At least, I hoped so.