Bad Romeo Read Online Free Page A

the dust.
    The other groups perform in turn, and Erika circles them like a hawk, scrutinizing their every movement. She’s deciding who will make the final cut for callbacks. Most people are cracking under the pressure. I’m thrilled beyond words.
    At last it’s our turn, and we stand in front of the group. Holt is jangling his leg. His hands are in his pockets, and his shoulders are hunched. It doesn’t fill me with confidence. I’d really like to pee and/or vomit. Because I can’t do either, I shift my weight from one foot to the other and beg my bladder to stand down.
    Erika studies us for a few moments.
    I realize Holt and I have both stopped breathing.
    “All right, you two,” she says. “Last chance to impress me.”
    Holt glances at me, and I see my desperation mirrored in him. He wants this. Maybe as much as I do.
    Erika leans into me and lowers her voice. “He moves, you move, Miss Taylor. Understand? Breathe his air. Find a connection.” She glances at Holt. “You have to let her in, Ethan. Don’t think about it, just do it. Three strikes and you’re out, remember?”
    He nods and swallows.
    “You have three minutes to prepare.”
    She leaves, and Holt and I move to the back of the room. He stands close and he smells good. Not that I should be noticing something like that, but my brain is looking for a distraction from my nerves, and his good smell is it.
    “Look,” he says as he leans down. “I need this, okay? Don’t screw it up for me.”
    I flush with anger. “Excuse me? You have just as much chance of screwing it up as I do. And what did Erika mean when she said ‘Three strikes and you’re out’?”
    He leans in closer but doesn’t look at me. “This is the third year I’ve auditioned. If I don’t get in this time, I’m done. They won’t let me re-audition. Then my father would say a big, fat ‘I told you so’ and expect me to go to medical school. I’ve worked hard for this. I need it, okay?”
    I’m confused. I’ve been watching him all day. Are these people blind?
    “Why haven’t you gotten in before? You’re really good.” In a disturbingly intense kind of way.
    His expression softens for a moment. “I find it hard to … mesh … with other performers. Apparently Erika believes that’s an important attribute for her actors to have.”
    “It didn’t look like you had any problem with Zoe.”
    He scoffs. “There was no connection there. I felt nothing, as usual. Erika could tell.”
    I glance over at the dark-haired lady who is studying us. “She’s auditioned you before?”
    He nods. “Every year. She wants to offer me a place, but she won’t give me a free pass. If I can’t prove I can do this particular exercise, which I’ve completely sucked at each time I’ve auditioned, then it’s over.”
    “One minute!” Erika yells.
    My heart rate kicks into overdrive. “Listen, just do whatever it takes to ‘connect’ with me, okay? Because if I don’t get this, I have to go back to my overprotective parents, and I seriously can’t fluffing cope with that. I know this might come as a surprise, but you’re not the only one with something to lose here.”
    He frowns. “Did you … did you just say ‘fluffing’?”
    I feel a fierce blush engulf my throat. He’s laughing at me, just because I refuse to curse my head off like every other fluffer in this place. “Shut up.”
    His smirk widens. “Seriously? Fluffing?”
    “Stop it! You’re wasting time.”
    He stops laughing and sighs. He seems more relaxed, but I’m guessing that’s because all his anxiety has transferred to me.
    “Look, Taylor—”
    “My name is Cassie.”
    “Whatever. Just relax, okay? We can do this. Look into my eyes and … Jesus, I don’t know … make me feel something. Don’t lose concentration. That’s what’s screwed everyone else so far. Just focus on me, and I’ll focus on you. Okay?”
    “Fine.”
    “And don’t say ‘fluffing’ any more, ’cause that shit