Never Enough by Denise Jaden Page B

stage lights.
    I wasn’t sure what to expect. Deirdre and I hadn’t talked since things went sour with Shayleen. I held my breath, but seconds later, she let out a little giggle.
    If there was one thing I knew about Deirdre, it was this: she didn’t know how to pull off a mocking giggle—the kindShayleen had perfected. Deirdre genuinely thought my outfit was funny. And if she thought that, maybe she didn’t hate me as much as Shayleen did.
    I brought a finger to my lips, hoping I had it right. She nodded, but before she turned for the stage, Shayleen came barreling toward her.
    “We’re waiting for you!” she said in an angry tone. “What are you laughing—” she looked up. I took a step back toward the boxes and eyed the ladder that went further up to the lighting catwalk. But it was too late.
    “What on earth is she doing?” Shayleen said, loud enough that everyone onstage looked up at Marcus and me.
    I tried to quickly remove the turban, but it caught in my hair—stupid curls—and I ended up leaving it tilted on my head while Shayleen marched for the side door.
    I could hear her calling Mr. Benson even after the door slammed behind her.
    *   *   *
     
    Marcus and I were just climbing down the ladder—with a whole audience of Shayleen’s cronies watching us—by the time Mr. Benson came backstage.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Benson,” I said. “We were just checking through the costumes to see if any props were buried in them. I guess we got carried away.”
    Shayleen spoke over me. “Obviously that costume is completelyinappropriate for the performance. They think this show is some kind of a joke! Some excuse to stay back here and play dress-up without doing any real work.” She huffed and crossed her arms. “And we all know Loann would do just about anything to be alone with a guy.”
    “Is this true?” Mr. Benson asked, turning to me. I wasn’t quite sure what his question was, and even if I did, I doubted I could form anything other than a gurgle.
    But before I had a chance to embarrass myself further, Marcus appeared beside me holding a box. Our photography box.
    “We’ve been working really hard,” Marcus said, setting the box down and pulling out the envelope of my favorite photos from the top. He passed them to Mr. Benson, who opened it and looked inside.
    Marcus continued. “Since there’s not much in the way of usable supplies—”
    “And since these pictures go so well with the theme—” I interjected.
    “We’re going to try to do a photo-set, on the back scrim there,” Marcus finished. I pointed to the back wall of white. The class turned to look as we waited for Mr. Benson to say something.
    “Ptff, as if that’ll work,” Shayleen murmured behind me. “And leave the stage totally empty? Yeah, that’ll look great .”Sarcasm dripped from her tongue and I was sure if I looked down I’d see a pool of it on the floor.
    All the other students looked between my pictures and our teacher, waiting to see how he would react. Should they take Shayleen’s side and start mocking Marcus and me, or go on ignoring us as usual?
    “Brilliant!” Mr. Benson finally said. “I can’t wait to see it!”
    While everyone else stared up at the white scrim, trying to picture it, Marcus reached over and squeezed my hand.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
     
    The backstage area swarmed with students until the end of class. I kept looking at Marcus. I wanted so much to have another moment with him, at least an unspoken understanding, but he didn’t meet my eyes. I hated Shayleen for ruining things.
    I didn’t see Marcus again until after school at our lockers.
    “Arts Club?” he asked, without looking at me.
    I tilted my head to try to see more of his face, to figure out what he was thinking. Did he wish we hadn’t been interrupted on that upper platform as much as I did?
    “Actually, I can’t today,” I said, trying to get a reaction from him. “I have a dentist appointment at three.” It was true,