Free Falling Fast by Sophie McKenzie Page A

in the ribs. ‘We’re just teasing, girl,’ she said. ‘Flynn’s okay, if you must. I mean, he is a bit weird. Way too intense for
me – all that ridiculous I must make sure you get home safely nonsense. But he’s obviously really clever and, anyway, loads of people go for that brooding thing he
does.’
    I rolled my eyes. She was making it sound like it was some kind of act that Flynn put on.
    ‘Tell you one thing, though,’ Emmi said, lowering her voice. ‘He’ll be after sex on your first date.’
    Grace giggled.
    I stared at Emmi, speechless.
    ‘You can see it in his eyes,’ she said mysteriously. ‘He’s not used to waiting for things.’
    She sat back and started asking Grace what James Molloy was like as a kisser. I watched Grace go pink, admitting he was really quite good. And that she was definitely dumping Darren for him.
    What on earth was Emmi going on about? Flynn and I hadn’t even kissed yet and we’d met weeks ago. The last thing Flynn was, was pushy. I shook my head. It might all be about sex for
Emmi, but the connection I’d felt with Flynn was different.
    The bus took ages to get to the school. In the end we arrived ten minutes late for rehearsal. It was the last week before half-term and Mr Nichols was in full flow as we arrived in the rehearsal
room.
    ‘Everyone must know their lines by the end of half-term,’ he was saying, pacing across the room. ‘We’re going to begin blocking the play using the actual stage once
we’re back, and rehearsals will increase to three times a week.’
    I looked round for Flynn. He was at the end of a long row of desks, his arms folded. He looked up at Mr Nichols. His face was sulky and sullen.
    ‘I can’t do three times a week,’ he said. ‘As you already know, sir .’
    He said the last word with such withering contempt, I was surprised Mr Nichols didn’t give him detention on the spot.
    Mr Nichols narrowed his eyes. ‘I didn’t say everyone would have to attend three times a week, Flynn . . .’ He caught sight of me and the other girls hovering by the
door. ‘Oh, you’re here. Good. Come in, girls. Now let’s get straight into Act 3, Scene 3.’
    Flynn acted better than ever that night. He was clearly in a bad mood, but he seemed to channel it all into his part. His Romeo snapped and hissed with fury at being banished after killing
Tybalt. As usual, Mr Nichols spent very little time directing him. Flynn just didn’t need it in the same way that everyone else did. He already moved and spoke completely naturally, making
total sense of everything he said.
    Soon we were at my own entrance. My legs shook as I walked over to him.
    He kept his face hidden as we had our first exchange, then in a single move he leaped up and grabbed my arm.
    ‘Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?’
    He walked me backwards, still gripping my arm. For a second I forgot we were acting. The passion in his eyes was totally genuine. I wasn’t listening to his words, only to the rolling
rhythm of the lines and the agony in his voice.
    ‘Where is she? And how doth she? And what says
    My conceal’d lady to our cancell’d love?’
    It was impossible to believe he didn’t mean it. Love and despair were etched all over his face. He was obsessed with Juliet. Desperate to know if she hated him for killing her cousin,
Tybalt.
    As I spoke my lines back: ‘ O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps . . .’ I was thinking how much I wanted him to feel that strongly about me. About us.
    Later, in his scene with Juliet, he was calm and gentle. He gazed at Emmi as if she was the only person in the room. Jealousy seeped through me like poison. It suddenly occurred to me that he
was going to have to kiss her – several times – in the course of the play. Not tonight, maybe, but at some point in the rehearsals they were going to have to do it. And then over and
over again. And through three performances too.
    I felt sick. My heart thudded horribly. It