Code: 16B

Chapter Seven

Seven

    Throughout the next few days, things went great despite the fact that Cyrus hasn’t returned to school. The show was a hit, with all the classes during the student matinees, and with our families on Thursday night. But throughout all three of the shows, Cyrus didn’t come, which made me believe that he may, or may not come to the Saturday show. I also did well in my audition for the next play, The Story of The Nutcracker—which is actually based off the ballet, who knew—I actually managed to get a part along with the majority of the R&J cast, and I also I have to learn a dance called the tea dance (and I’ve never had a dance class in my entire life, I was just lucky to not trip over my feet during the dancing part of the audition). As long as I got a part, I’m happy, and willing to do anything to make it my best performance.

    But right now, as I woke up to the sunlight through my window, I quickly realized that today is Saturday. I only have one more show to do, and then, Missy’s after party. Since it’s a Saturday, I didn’t have to rush to put on my jeans, t-shirt, and a jacket (even though it’s not that chilly outside since it’s October, but it is cold inside the school). I glanced at the clock: 10:30 AM, just less than three hours until I need to head to the school to get ready.

    So, for the next hour and a half, I spent the majority of my time—even during breakfast and a light lunch—thinking of Cyrus, and wondering if he was going to actually show up. But more importantly…would he like me? I tried to think about something to say to him from what the girls said the other day. Then, I realize that I would need some reassurance. I need to speak to Amber.

    I checked the clock: 12:30 PM, only thirty minutes before I have to go to the school. I walked out of my room, and quietly tip toed to Amber’s room, only to find her door slightly ajar and I see her laying on her bed with her earbuds in her ears. So, I knocked loudly for her to hear, she jumps and sees me.

    “Sorry,” I said, “are you busy?”

    “No, come in.” she said as she quickly removes her earbuds, tossed her iPod onto her nightstand, and straightened up to make room for me to sit on the bed with her. I walked in slowly and gently sat on her bed. “What’s up?” she asked as her brown eyes—the same brown eyes I also inherited from both our parents—were gazing at me with nothing but true curiosity.

    “I need your, um…” I had to think of an appropriate word for my predicament. “Your expertise on boys.” I added almost hesitantly, and I was mostly staring at my hands.

    “Am I on Punk’d?” she asked incredulously, and I looked up at her to see that she was smiling, obviously being sarcastic with her remark. But before I could open my mouth to speak, she immediately cuts me off, saying, “I’m kidding, I would love to help you.”

    “Really?”

    “Amanda, you’re my sister, giving you advice is part of the job description.” She said with a laugh. Then, almost instantaneously, she added, “Who’s the guy?”

    “His name is Cyrus.” I hesitantly said.

    Without any warning, she murmured aloud, “Ooh, classy.” She and I giggled quietly before she added, “Where did you meet him?”

    “Theatre class, and omigod you should’ve been there. He performed Romeo’s original monologue perfectly. It would make you wish you were Juliet.” I babbled, and already, I could feel the blush of embarrassment entering my face.

    “Are you sure that he’s straight?”

    I roll my eyes when I said, “Please, even Leon knew that he wasn’t on his team…if you know what I mean.”