Page 10 of The Lookback

“I haven’t finished my homework,” I say.

“But you can’t do it in the classroom. Mr. Ulrike will see you.”

I shrug. “You got me. I’d rather get a zero on my math homework than sit in there while you badger me about the play that’s never going to happen.”

“Actually, it’s a musical.” He’s back to smiling.

I groan. “That’s even worse.”

“You’re the only junior who can really sing.” He’s skipping now, like the joy in his body simply can’t be contained and is escaping against his will. “You have to at least try out for the role of Anna.”

“No way.” I can carry a tune, but I hate doing it in front of people. His idea is my worst nightmare.

“Come on.” He blocks the door into math. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Just then, Jedediah Brooks reaches the door behind Tommy. “Excuse me.”

For a split second, I think maybe he’s talking to me, but then I realize he was asking Tommy to move. Tommy rolls his eyes, but he shifts so Jed can squeeze past. Before I can follow him in, Tommy whips back into place. “Not so fast.” His finger is hovering in front of my face again, waggling toward my nose. “Anything you want, remember?” He’s staring at me with wide eyes. “Just name your price.”

“Get him to forgive me,” I say. “And then I’m in.” I mean, itiswhat I’d like, if pigs could fly, but it’s also never going to happen. Which means I’ll never have to be in the play.

I should have known that Tommy wouldn’t give up just because I laid down an impossible gauntlet. I skip the tryouts on principle, but the next day, when they post the roles for the musical, next to the name Anna, it says Amanda Saddler, in big, bold black letters.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I round on Tommy so fast that he actually stumbles back. “I didn’t evengoto the tryouts.”

“Your reputation preceded you.” He’s half-smiling.

“Thomas Collins, you can’t do that.” I drop both hands on my hips. “I amnotgoing to be in that musical.”

“The cast list doesn’t lie.” He’s beaming.

“Well, the joke will be on you when I never show for a single practice. You can take it up with the cast list.”

When he drags me into the corner, one hand over my mouth, I think about biting him. Hard. “Just listen to me for a minute.”

I shake my head and shove him off. “Not even for a half a second.”

“You didn’t see who’s listed as the understudy for King Mongkut.”

My voice sounds a little too loud and a little too shrill, even to me. But my sense of injustice is now enflamed. “Who cares?”

“It’s Jedediah,” he whispers. “And I’ll get sick on the day of the play.”

Wait. It’s. . . “You’replaying King Mongkut?”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for now, but only because Jed said he’d only be willing to be the understudy. But think about it! I can just say I’m sick. Then he’ll have to take over.” He grins. “And then you’llhaveto interact. King Mongkut’s Anna’s love interest.”

“This is a terrible plan.”

“He hasn’t talked to you in over a year. Do you have a better one? Because I’m sick of watching you moping around.”

I can’t argue with that. Nothing else I’ve tried to get Jed to forgive me has worked.

“As an understudy, he has to step in and play the role at one practice a week, too. We can use that as well. He’ll have to talk to you—or at leastatyou.”

I’m rolling my eyes, but I’m listening. “It’s not a horrible plan. I’m surprised he agreed to it.”

Tommy’s smile is diabolical. “I didn’t play fair.”