Supernova

Four | Alice Stevens

Alice Stevens was having a bad day.

She had been out of it with rehearsals: messing up her lines, forgetting her blocking, grabbing the wrong props, spilling juice down her front during practice break . . . spilling juice down her front during practice break! That was the worst. All in all, she basically made a fool out of herself today in front of Dylan fucking Garcia, a popular junior stud for whom Alice had long set her eyes on. Maybe even her heart, mind you, but she was too young and scared to find that bit out. Besides, back then he had been dating Madison Somethingsomething, known only to Alice as famous Shiela Allen’s best friend (slash personal assistant).

The afternoon was morphing into dusk, and she and Penelope certainly wouldn’t have time now to go to Chuckskates before they went home as they had planned. Not unless they both wanted long, repetitive reprimanding talks from Mrs. Summers and Mrs. Stevens, of course, and those were boring as hell. As the darkness slowly gathered, Alice took a deep breath, and one would have known better than cross her this moment, what with the hearty scowl she wore.

Another glance at her watch, the thousandth glance she reckoned, and another brief surveillance of the vicinity. Where the hell was Penelope? They had decided to meet up at five—surely the Conference rep screening would have been over by now. Alice’s rehearsals ended over an hour ago, and Penelope’s non-appearance—plus the unreasonably crappy day she was having—was making Alice less lenient than usual of her best friend’s punctuality problems.

A chorus of laughter echoed from behind, and Alice turned around, her stomach doing an uncomfortable backflip at the recognition of one of the voices. The boisterous, almost cracking cackle was too familiar to miss, and the annoyed scowl that graced her face was replaced with the usual apprehension—Is my hair perfect? Is my uniform . . . oh fucking crap! That juice stain! Ugh!—whenever Dylan Garcia was around.

Alice Stevens wasn’t cool, however much Belle kept insisting she was, because of many reasons. One, Belle Cooper thought everyone was cool. Two, she was too much of a dork to be cool—she invested too much time doting on fictional characters, she collected Winnie the Pooh stickers (they’re happy and colourful, okay?), she sang in the bathroom/bedroom with a showerhead/hairbrush, she still jumped on springy beds with the music turned up loud, she was too self-conscious to open a men’s magazine (unlike Charlotte and Haley, for that must be put out there), and she could not for the life of her stand awkward silences. That’s a hundred reasons more for you. So no, Alice Stevens was not cool.

Unfortunately, Dylan Garcia was cool—he dabbled on different sports and could sing and did theatre and played the guitar and everyone loved him and . . . you get the picture. It was a mystery to everyone—at least to everyone who swooned at the mention of Dylan’s name—that he had taken interest in one Madison Somethingsomething, but I guess more than that, it had instilled a hope in Alice that maybe—just maybe, you know?—Dylan would, one of these days, notice her.

As a girl. As a potential-girlfriend-material kind of girl.

It wasn’t as farfetched as the chances of Penelope still appearing—for she wasn’t going to show up anymore, Alice was certain—wasn’t it? Wasn’t it? If Madison Somethingsomething managed to date someone like Dylan fucking Garcia, surely Alice could, as well?

She instinctively brushed her hair with her fingers and tried to act nonchalant, but the fact that she couldn’t help swaying to and fro with the balls of her feet in excitement wasn’t helping. They were almost out now, saluting and bidding the security guards goodbye, and as they emerged from the red old gates, Alice noticed the person with Dylan—Kyle Davies, junior, Alice’s stage partner and notably the frontrunner of Shiela Allen’s many suitors.