Free D Is for Drama by Jo Whittemore

smirked. “No. Of course not,” she said, sauntering away. “Have a good night, Sunny. I’m off to rehearsal.”
    I watched her go with a curious stare. The only reasonshe’d be at rehearsals was if she was in the show. But that couldn’t happen unless . . .
    I slammed my locker shut and hurried to Chase’s. He was still there, hanging with friends before rehearsal. When he saw me, he offered a tentative smile.
    â€œHey, S—”
    â€œIlana,” I cut him off. “Is she in the show?”
    His very wise friends decided this was the time to leave.
    â€œGood luck, bro,” one of them said.
    â€œShe is, isn’t she?” I asked.
    My stomach lurched into my throat, and Chase reached for my arm, squeezing it.
    â€œI wasn’t sure how to tell you,” he said. “Sara’s dad got orders to transfer, so they’re moving in a few months. Ms. Elliott took her out and replaced her with Ilana.”
    I swallowed hard. “Which means Ilana gets to be Mary Poppins, the part she wanted all along.”
    Chase held up a hand. “Don’t read too much into this.”
    I gave him a disgusted look. “Ilana volunteers for the selection committee and just happens to get the understudy role for Mary Poppins who just happens to be moving in a few months. And I’m not supposed to read anything into it?”
    â€œSunny . . .”
    I jerked my arm out of his hand. “And why are you defending her, anyway? Is she your girlfriend now?”
    â€œWhat?” Chase blinked and recoiled in confusion. I couldn’t blame him. I had no idea where that jealousy came from.
    â€œI mean . . .” I struggled for words. “I don’t care. I just thought you’d have better taste.”
    Chase’s neck and face colored to match his hair. “Says the girl holding hands with the school bully.”
    â€œHolding ha—?” I scowled. “We were making a pinky swear, Chase!”
    â€œYeah, well, you’ve never done that with any of your other guy friends,” he shot back.
    â€œ Fine .” I grabbed his wrist and hooked his pinky with mine. “I swear you are getting on my nerves!”
    I wrestled my pinky free and turned away, but Chase took my hand.
    â€œSunny, wait. I don’t want to fight anymore,” he said. “We’re supposed to be best friends.”
    I regarded him silently, taking in the hopeful smile he offered, and let out a deep sigh.
    â€œYou’re right,” I said, turning toward him. His hand was still on mine, and when I moved, my fingers accidentally slipped between his.
    We were holding hands . It was only a matter of time before he realized it too, and freaked out.
    â€œUh . . .” I quickly let go and clutched my hands behind my back. “So, truce?”
    â€œTruce,” he said. “And I’m sorry for being harsh last night. It’s cool that you got your own show. You’ll make it awesome, I know it.”
    I forgot all about being embarrassed. “Awww . . . really?”
    â€œYes, really,” he said, stepping closer.
    I wanted to tell him about my mom and the agent, but my brain was turning to mush. Chase and I had stood shoulder to shoulder plenty of times but never face-to-face. My stomach was an Olympic gymnast, flipping and jumping and twirling little ribbons.
    Chase was near enough now that I could see all the details of his nose and cheeks.
    â€œYou’ve got more freckles than usual,” I said, touching one.
    The muscles of his cheek moved under my fingers as he smiled even wider. “You’ve been counting? It’s from all the sun at baseball practice.”
    â€œYou should tell your dad that sensible young men wear sunscreen,” I said in mock seriousness.
    â€œHa ha.” Chase squeezed my fingers. “Look, sorry to give bad news and run, but I need to get to rehearsal.