Free Love Is in the Air by A. Destiny and Alex R. Kahler Page B

jumping from their chairs to see them. I’m not among the first, that’s for sure; I already know I’m not getting into flying trapeze.
    Still, when I do make it up there, I’m a little disappointed to see that I was right. Riley stands at my side and congratulates me on getting into juggling with her, even though that was kind of a giveaway. I feel a little sick to see I was the only one who auditioned who didn’t get into flying trapeze. Branden’s name is at the top, a reminder that he and I are on completely different social levels. And seeing as how we won’t have any training together, I might as well get used to that fact now.
    â€œSuch a shame,” comes a voice beside me. The drawl makes my skin crawl. “Here I was hoping we’d get to see more of your amazing aerial acrobatics.”
    I glare at Megan, who is staring at the announcements with a contented, malicious smile on her face, like a cat who just ate a large and tasty mouse. Every part of me wishes I had some sort of snappy comeback, but I’ve got nothing. Not that I have any time to respond. She looks at me, her grin widening.
    â€œIt’s probably for the best. Can’t have you thinking you’re good enough for Branden, can we?” Then she winks and spins on her heel,walking off toward the exit, where the rest of her sisters are waiting.
    â€œI really, really hate her,” I mutter.
    â€œI think the feeling’s mutual,” Riley replies. I nearly jump—I’d forgotten she was even standing there. Just shows how much Megan gets to me, seeing as Riley’s hair makes her stand out in a crowd. I look around the cafeteria but Branden’s already gone, probably off to afternoon practice. “Come on,” Riley says, once more taking me by the arm. “Juggling will help. And if you’re really frustrated, we can just start throwing clubs at each other. That’s always helped me de-stress.”

ChapterTen
    T he rest of the afternoon passes in a fairly contented blur. It’s hard to focus on not getting into flying trapeze when there are juggling pins being hurled at my head. Riley’s decided she and I are going to do a partner act for the final show. But she wasn’t happy with just a normal ground routine, no. She wanted to add “an extra level of danger.”
    Which, to her, meant doing the entire routine on top of rolling globes, which are exactly what they sound like—giant plastic balls I’m somehow supposed to balance on while throwing pins. Our coaches taught us how to stand and even walk a little bit, and although I only fell off a few times, I have a feeling it’s going to be nearly impossible to combine it with juggling. Still, Riley is relentless with her optimism, and when the first session of practice is overfour hours later, she’s already discussing our music choices as we wander over to dinner.
    We pass by one of the smaller circus tents—the blue-and-gold one—and Tyler steps out with a couple of other acro kids. He’s covered in sweat and chatting animatedly with Kevin. When they walk, the backs of their hands brush.
    â€œHey, boys,” Riley says, jumping over to walk beside Tyler. “How was practice?”
    â€œAwesome,” Tyler says. “I made it to nine chairs.”
    â€œIt was really impressive,” Kevin replies.
    The four of us head to the dining room together. We don’t talk about TV shows or video games, not like my other friends. No, the entire way there we talk about practice and how sore we are and what we’re envisioning our routines will look like. Even though I’ve only been doing this a day, it’s easy to get swept up in it, to start dreaming of my life under the circus lights—albeit in a different act. I won’t lie, though—even with Riley’s excitement, I’m still a little ashamed I won’t be making my big debut on the trapeze rig.