Chapter 19
Chase shuffled into the kitchen, his long pajama pants almost covering his socks. His mother sat at the table drinking coffee and reading the paper, her hair in curlers.
When he entered, she smiled and put the paper down. “Good morning.”
He didn’t like the way she smiled at him. He knew what that meant. “Mmm,” he said in a noncommittal way.
“There’s a new casting call that I think would be perfect for you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Mom. I haven’t even started filming the one I got yet.”
She waved her hand. “That’s going to only take a few weekends. This one is a much bigger deal.”She patted her curlers.
He pulled a box of Corn Flakes from the cupboard and groaned. “Mom, I don’t want to do anything bigger.”
“But it’s going to be great for your career.”
The bowl clunked as he set it down on the counter a little too forcefully. He cringed. “What if I don’t want to be an actor?” he said under his breath.
His mother turned wide eyes on him. “What did you say?”
Great. Now he’d done it. Opened up the can of worms.
But he knew he had to do it sometime before he ended up stuck in an acting school he hated. He probably should tell her he was thinking of applying to UNH Manchester.
“I don’t want to be an actor.”
There. He’d said it.
His mother’s shocked face stared at him, her mouth hanging open. “Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I hate standing around, waiting all day for my part. I hate shooting the same scene over and over.” He poured the cereal into the bowl and pulled out the milk.
“You’ll like the bigger roles better. Less waiting.”
“Mom! Stop trying to push me into something I don’t want.”
His mother’s mouth snapped shut and she blinked, placing her hands on the newspaper. “I . . . I didn’t think that’s what I was doing. I thought you liked this.”
“No, Mom. You like it.” He sat down on the chair opposite her, finally feeling like a weight was lifting off his chest. “At first it was kind of fun, but it grew old for me really fast. I don’t want to do it anymore.” He peered at her, waiting to judge her reaction.
She opened and closed her mouth without any sound coming out at first. Finally, she frowned. “But you’re so good at it. You have natural talent.”
“I have talent for other things, too. I like science. And I’m good at it. I want to go to college.” He dug into his breakfast.
His mother blinked and wiped at her face.
Was she crying? Oh no.
He didn’t mean to make her cry. “Mom . . .” he said, feeling terrible. “Don’t cry.”
She waved his concern away. “I just didn’t realize . . .” Her voice trailed off. “The first role you got, you were so excited.”
“I was, like, six.”
“You said you wanted to be an actor.”
“I also said I wanted to be an astronaut.” He stabbed his spoon into his bowl of cereal.
She looked down at the newspaper. “You’re right. I’ve been pushing you.”
“It’s okay, Mom. Don’t be upset about it.”
She smiled, her eyes still watery. “I thought I was your manager. I guess I’ve been so wrapped up in doing the job that I never realized it wasn’t the one I was supposed to be doing.”
He cocked his head to the side.
“My most important job is being your mother.” She stood and rounded the table, bending down to kiss the top of his head, her hands on his shoulders. “I’m proud of you, no matter what you want to do.”
His throat tightened. “Thanks.”
“I’ll support you in your decision.” She stood beside him and patted her curlers, sighing. “What schools are you looking at?”
“I’ve been looking at a few. I’m thinking about applying to UNH Manchester.”
Her face blanched. “Manchester, New Hampshire? Why so far away?”
His ears grew hot. Did he really want to admit it was because Isabella wanted to go to school in Manchester?
His mother got a funny look on her face. “Ah, I see.”
“What?”
“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.” She whacked him playfully on the arm. “What’s her name?”
“Isabella.”
Whoa, had he just said that out loud?
“Is she the girl who you’ve been studying with?”
He scooped a spoonful of cereal and stuffed it into his mouth. “Mmm hmm.”
“Maybe you should have her over for dinner.”
He nodded and swallowed. “Okay. I’ll ask her.”
She smiled. “I’ll have a talk with your father about all this.”
“Okay.” Chase took another bite. His father didn’t care about his acting as much as he cared about him not disrespecting his mother. But the conversation had gone smoother than he’d thought. His mom seemed to be taking it well.
She squeezed his shoulder. “Love you, honey.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
His mother went into the bathroom to fix her hair. He finished his cereal and hopped into the shower. In thirty minutes, he was out the door feeling better than he had in a long time. His mother was going to back off the auditions. He’d get to spend his senior year doing the things every other senior did. He did a little fist pump before getting in his car. He was free.
The school day seemed to speed by, and soon he was standing in line in the busy lunchroom. He glanced around and saw Isabella sitting alone at the end of a table.
What would she do if he sat by her?
He picked up a sub sandwich and a carton of milk and punched in his account number. Gripping his tray, he turned.
Yep, he was going to do it.
He started toward the table when another girl sat next to Isabella, taking the empty seat.
Chase frowned, grumbling under his breath and walking past them to the table where he usually sat. He wasn’t sure who that girl was, but he didn’t like her much at the moment. Setting his tray down, he took a seat.
“Hey, Chase,” one of the girls at the table said.
“Hey.” He pulled out his phone and messaged Five.
Are you having a good day?
He watched Isabella take her phone out of her pocket, look at the screen, then glance his way. He lowered his gaze so she didn’t catch him staring at her.
Yes. Even though it’s Monday.
Something big happened this morning.
What??
I told my mom I didn’t want to audition anymore.
You did? Holy schmoly, what did she say?
He chuckled and felt her gaze on him once more, so he kept his eyes on his phone.
She was shocked at first. But then she was all right with it.
So that’s it? Dang, you should have done that a long time ago.
I guess so.
When no more texts came, he glanced at her. She was talking to her friend, her fork in her hand. He slipped his phone back in his pocket and tried to concentrate on eating his lunch. But it was difficult. His gaze kept sliding over to Isabella. He watched her laughing with her friend and wondered what they were talking about. Then a guy stopped by their table and spoke to her.
He didn’t stay there for long, only a short conversation, but Chase grew insanely curious as to who he was. Then he remembered Five talking about a guy at school who had spoken to her. A guy she liked. Was that him? His gaze trailed after him as he deposited his lunch tray and exited the room.
He had short hair and wore khaki pants and a button-down shirt. He even wore glasses. Maybe Isabella liked him because he was smart, which suddenly annoyed Chase. He was smart, too.
“What are you doing?”
Chase looked at the girl by his side. Belinda. “What?”
Belinda pointed to his sandwich. He was clutching it so tight the bread held finger impressions and the meat and cheese were falling out.
“Nothing,” he said, setting the ruined sandwich down. He wasn’t hungry anymore, anyway.
“What did that guy do to you?” Belinda stared after him as well.
Chase wiped his hand on his napkin. “He didn’t do anything.” He picked up his tray, slid his sandwich in the trash, and tossed it on the stack. He didn’t feel so much like celebrating his victory from this morning anymore.
He walked into his American history class and sat in his seat. The teacher wasn’t in there yet, so he pulled out his phone and messaged Five again.
Just curious. Have you been talking to that guy you like?
Aren’t you in class??
The teacher isn’t here yet.
Well, mine is! You’re going to get me in trouble.
The bell rang, and his teacher walked in. With gray hair and thick glasses, he figured he probably wouldn’t notice if Chase kept his phone in his lap.
You didn’t answer my question.
Yes, he’s been talking to me. Happy?
Not really. How much do you like him?
Honestly? A lot.
A gut punch. That’s what it felt like. Now that he knew who Five was, and had more than just a small crush on her, he couldn’t stand the thought of her liking another guy. Who was he, anyway?
Forget him. Date me instead.
Why? Are you jealous?
He had nothing to lose by being honest with her. Yes!!
This situation is hysterical.
What did she mean by that?
He glanced up at his teacher, but he was writing on the chalkboard and wasn’t paying attention.
It’s not funny to me. He sent her a pouty-face emoji.
The teacher is glaring at me. Gotta go.
Okay.
Chase slipped his phone in his pocket, not feeling much better. He vowed to find out who Isabella liked so he could size up his competition. History class dragged on, and he stared at the wall, not paying much attention.
His sour mood continued until he entered his physics class and Isabella smiled at him. He sat down and turned to her. “Hey.”
She pushed her glasses up with one finger. “Hi.”
“How’s everything going?”
“Fine.”
Her eyes held something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “You free to work on our paper tonight?”
Her smile disappeared. “I have to clean the gallery. Get it ready for my stepsister’s big debut.”
Mr. Morgan walked in. “Why did the chicken cross the Mobius strip?” He waited for a moment, then said, “To get to the same side!”
A couple of people chuckled. Mr. Morgan grinned and waved a hand in the air. “It’s okay. You don’t have to clap.”
Chase gave Isabella a frown. “Sorry,” he whispered, then turned around.
Mr. Morgan opened his briefcase. “Today we’re going to partner up and work on our projects. If you haven’t started on your papers yet, today is the day to do it.”
Chase turned his desk around. Good. He’d get to spend the period looking at Isabella. And maybe charming her a little. It couldn’t hurt, right?