Panic by Sharon M. Draper Page A

dance.”
    Mercedes sighed once more. “Layla, you know that Justin likes you, don’t you?”
    â€œJustin?” Layla sniffed. “He likes to dance with me.”
    â€œWatch how he looks at you sometime.”
    â€œWho cares? I’ve got Donny. I don’t need to look at anyone else.”
    Mercedes was quiet for a moment. Then Layla heard her say in a rush, “Donny does quite a bit of looking around sometimes. You should know that, Layla.”
    â€œI’m not gonna even listen to this.”
    Mercedes continued anyway. “Hey, look, I don’t want to get you upset, but Steve told me that sometimes he seesDonovan out cruisin’ in that ’Lade with Magnificent Jones.”
    â€œHe’s lying!” Layla said dismissively, but she felt her stomach lurch. No way. No way. No way.
    Magnificent Significant Jones (why her mama named her that, Layla could only guess) was almost six feet tall and had hips and boobs that jutted out like the rock faces on a climbing wall. She seemed to invite exploration. She didn’t actually walk—she oozed down the school halls. She was like one of those Sirens Layla had read about in her Greek mythology book. Guys just stopped and melted when she passed by. Even the male teachers paused and made excuses to get a drink from the water fountain when Magnificent strolled through the halls.
    â€œLayla, Steve wouldn’t lie. You know that song by Adele called ‘Rumour Has It’?”
    â€œYeah.” Layla shifted uncomfortably as the words from the song rang through her head. Defiantly, she told Mercedes, “Girl, Donny loves me.” But even as she was saying this, she was remembering silently agonizing over the balled-up McDonald’s napkins on the floor of Donny’s car. Napkins smeared with purple lipstick. Layla wore pink lipstick. Always.
    â€œHas he ever told you that?”
    Layla paused, stung. He hadn’t, actually—not yet. And she had to admit that it was really starting to bother her. But she wasn’t about to share that bit of info with Mercedes. So she said, “Well, duh! He calls me every night and tells me he loves me before I go to sleep.”
    â€œJust keep your eyes open, girlfriend. You hear?”
    â€œYeah, whatever,” Layla replied in a huff. She was inno mood to talk or think about Donovan and Magnificent anymore. So it was her turn to change the subject. “Hey, Mercedes.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œWhat do you think Diamond is doing right now?”
    â€œWishing she was at home in her own bed.”

17
DIAMOND, Saturday, April 13 11 p.m.
    â€œWhy are you crying?”
    â€”from Peter Pan
    The door opened slowly. All she could see in the shaft of yellow light was Thane’s silhouette. He entered the room.
    â€œThane! Oh my gosh— Help me! Untie me! What’s going on?”
    â€œAre you done crying?”
    â€œPlease! Please call my mother. I want to go home!”
    â€œThat’s not going to happen.” He laughed—and Diamond felt the coldness of it through her bones.
    She fought to keep her voice under control, to keep the panicked sobs down. “My clothes—please, can I have my clothes?” She fought against the restraints. “I don’t understand! Why am I tied up?”
    Thane walked around the bed, his eyes never leaving her. “You said you wanted to be in a movie, didn’t you?”
    â€œYes, but, I thought—”
    â€œYou thought you were coming to a casting call. And you are. Oh yes, you are,” Thane said.
    â€œBut—but what about Chloe and the other girls? I’m so confused. I need my clothes. Please, please untie me!” Her head pounded, and her brain felt so fuzzy. She couldn’t think. Why was the room spinning?
    Thane laughed again. “You still don’t get it, do you? You wanted to be in a movie, and you’re just in time for your audition.”
    Diamond