Page 55 of I'll Be the One

Bobby turns to Henry. “I hope you’re not regretting the switch, Cho. Because it’s definitely too late now!”

He laughs, and Cassie stares at the floor, like she’s embarrassed to be standing next to him. I’m about to give Bobby a piece of my mind when Henry says breezily, “No, I’m not. In fact, being Skye’s partner is the best thing to have happened to me in this entire competition.”

Bobby stammers for a second before saying, “Let’s see if you still feel the same way when you’re both eliminated.”

Henry’s totally sweet answer doesn’t escape me, but by that point, I’m so mad that I don’t care about much else.

“Are you really that insecure of your chances that you can’t just leave us alone?” I blurt out. “If you’re so convinced that you guys will win and we’ll get eliminated, then go prove it. Blow us out of the water.”

Bobby looks like he’s about to respond, but at that moment, the stage manager clears her throat.

“Bobby and Cassie?” she says. “They’re ready for you. Please head to the stage.”

As they leave, Bobby pushes up the tip of his nose with one index finger.

Oh no he didn’t.

“You’re such a child!” I’m so fired up that I start after them, but Henry gently pulls me back.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey.He’s not worth it.”

“I know, but we really shouldn’t let him go around doing stuff like that. You saw Cassie, right? She looked miserable! Who knows what kind of crap he put her through over the past few weeks? And he just thinks it’s okay to walk in here and say stuff like that to my face, to make that pig face at me—”

Henry places his hands on my shoulders and leans down so we’re eye to eye. Our noses almost touch. In the quiet moment between us, I realize I’m crying. I’ve always been an angry crier, and today’s no exception.

“Skye,” he says gently. “We’re better than him.You’rebetter than him. Like you said, he’s just acting like that because he feels inferior. You’re entirely valid in being angry at him, ofcourse. Heck, I’mthisclose to going after him myself. But we have to focus. Let’s show everyone that we’re better.”

And then, finally, the fear I’ve been keeping trapped beneath all my layers of anger sticks its ugly head out. “But what if he’s right? What if we don’t make it past this round?”

Henry reassuringly squeezes my shoulder. “Come on, of course we will. We’re amazing.You’reamazing. I believe in us.”

I take a deep breath and then let it all out. My heart is still beating quickly, but it’s kind of impossible to stay on edge when Henry’s so close to me, his large, dreamy brown eyes staring calmly into mine.

Someone coughs. I look up, expecting to see the stage manager. But she’s nowhere in sight, and instead, there’s a small crowd of cameras gathered around us, recording everything. Great. I was so preoccupied with my emotions that I didn’t even notice that they were there. Were they there this entire time? It scares me that I have absolutely no idea.

I sigh, accepting my fate. Guess my mini breakdown is going to be on the show.

Henry looks up too, and if he’s surprised by all the people watching us, he doesn’t show it. Suspicion flares inside my head. Did Henry know about all the cameras? Was everything he said just for the show?

The stage manager walks in then, pushing through the crowd with a look of annoyance on her face.

“All right,” she says. “Skye and Henry, please proceed to the stage.”

“Ready?” Henry asks.

“Yup.”

As we walk onstage, I push away all other thoughts from my head. I feel weirdly nervous and confident at the same time. But even though my heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest, I know we’re as ready as we’ll ever be.

Chapter Twenty-Four

AS SOON AS WE STEP ONSTAGE, THE ENTIRE AUDITORIUMexplodes with screams and cheers. I hear “Skye!” a few times, but most of the voices, predictably enough, scream Henry’s name.

“Wow,” Henry says with a laugh that’s barely audible with all the noise. For a second, I see a flash of tension on his face before he hides it under his professional smile. He gives the audience a quick wave, and the shrieking reaches a feverish pitch.

We stand on our taped-on marks, our eyes staring at the floor beneath our feet. It’s something both of us decided to do when we were rehearsing, since it not only makes for a more dramatic beginning but also keeps us from being distracted by the audience. It seemed like a silly precaution when we were alone in Henry’s private studio, but now, in the middle of all the screaming, I’m really glad we thought of this in advance.

The stage lights shine hot and bright down on me, and theirheat makes me feel like I’m slowly burning up. My heart beats superfast. Henry is motionless beside me, and I resist the urge to look up to see how he’s doing.

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