Could be a Star

Chapter 17

When the cast took their bows, the audience clapped and clapped and everyone stood up and we all cheered. I stood on my tiptoes and cheered as loud as I could to try and catch Billy's or Michael's attention. It didn't happen, I just watched them grin and take it all in.

Mum took us on a little tour of the London Theatres before it was time to catch the train home. I didn't take much in, my heart was beating so fast and I couldn't help hoping I'd see the boys from the show walking around London. I don't know why but I wanted to congratulate them or at least just smile at them. I felt like they deserved it.

We're on the train now, headed home.

Mum's asleep, or at least she looks like she is, and Max and I are listening to the Billy Elliot soundtrack on his iPod. Listening to it only brings back a small part of the emotions from this afternoon, but they're still there.

We listen and I picture myself singing and Max dancing and Kate smiling. It all seems so real now.

After a while, I feel Max looking at me. The Letter is playing. I feel like I should just turn and smile but I really really don't want to. Then he puts his hand on the table and I think about how I held it in mine earlier and it makes me cringe. It doesn't feel like that should have happened.

I close me eyes and try to block it out of my head.

'Jack?' Max whispers because he doesn't want to wake my mum.

I don't open my eyes.

'Are you okay?' he asks

I realise that I've screwed up my face and clenched my fists. That wasn't supposed to happen. I slowly open my eyes.

'Yeah I'm fine, why?'

'Well you look a little... Well I don't know what you look like,'

His voice is gentle like Billy's was.

I look at him them look away. He's smiling with one side of his mouth and it makes me want to remind him that he held my hand, not the other way round.

I look over at a man reading a newspaper and chewing gum at the table across the aisle.

I think about his gum and look at Max's hair. I think about Michael kissing Billy on the cheek and the people in the theatre booing. I hope neither of the boys heard, I hope they never hear anything like it ever. I look at Max but his attention is out of the window.

Michael, of all parts. Michael.

He'd get less of a hard time if he was playing a ballet girl.

***

I'm on my raft again, the one that wobbles when I stand up

I hear the scream and I know where it comes from.

I look around for Max and he's on his raft, precariously wobbling. Then I feel his hand in my arm and it grips me tight even though Max himself is on his raft, metres away. I can't get his hand off me, it just holds on more tightly around my wrist as I try to pull it off.

But Max is not with his hand, he's screaming as sharks circle around him. I want to help but I don't know what to do and the crying starts and his hand grips tighter and Max is falling.

'Jack!'

I feel my self shaking and strain as I open my eyes to see Max sitting on the train on the way back from London, nudging me.

'Jack! You were asleep,'

I feel tears on my cheek, left over from the dream. Apparently I'm a sleep crier.

I lift up my hand to wipe away the tears but Max gets there first.

I don't want his hands to be there, I can wipe away my own tears and I'm about to shove him off and turn away but I don't want to hurt Max's feelings because he doesn't deserve it so I force a smile and whisper a thank you.

He looks happy and sad at the same time.

'What made you so upset?,' he asks

'Just a dream,'

'Dreams aren't real, you know,'

I'm not sure if he could be more wrong.