Kate in Waiting by Becky Albertalli (ereader with android txt) 📕

It’s theater. I’m basically swimming in hot girls.”

“But do you mean hot girls like hot girls, or hot girls like your mom’s limo—”

“Nope. Nope. That’s gross.” He shakes his head firmly. “I’m talking about hot girls. Just regular old—okay, not old hot girls. Age-appropriate hot girls. It’s a class full of age-appropriate hot girls.”

“And Anderson and Matt,” I point out, feeling suddenly nauseated.

Matt. And hot girls. I was so busy being jealous of Andy, I didn’t even consider the hot girls.

“So you’ll do it?” Noah asks.

“Wait—what?”

“This afternoon sound good? I’ll get Garfield to drive us—other Garfield, I mean. Big Garfield. Bro Garfield—”

“Noah.” My lips tug at the corners. “I can’t teach you to sing.”

He looks stricken. “Why not?”

“Because you couldn’t carry a tune if it jumped into your arms?”

“Little Garfield. Wow. Tell me how you really feel—”

“Okay, remember when you and Ryan tried to teach me sports?”

Sixth grade, right after Noah moved here from Texas. He and I used to hang out a lot, but it’s not like we were ever really in sync. Noah always wanted to do stuff. But not my kind of stuff. Not stuff like reading with color-coded sticky tabs or singing the Les Mis soundtrack from start to finish. Noah just wanted to kick soccer balls and run drills with my brother, and I could never keep up, no matter what I did. So I tried to make them teach me.

He nods gravely. “That was so sad.”

“Okay, no. You’re sad. This isn’t about sports. That was an analogy. That was me trying to explain to you why I can’t teach you to sing.”

“Really? Because it actually sounds like a reminder that you owe me one.” Noah flips his palm up, the one with no cast. “So. This afternoon?”

“I’m at my mom’s house.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mom’s house.”

“Wednesday?”

I pause—for like a split second, not even—and Noah lights up. “Wednesday it is! Sweet. We’ll make Ryan drive us.”

“He can’t. Dad’s taking his car in for an oil change. Also, doesn’t Ryan have baseball on Wednesday?”

“Ohhh. Right, he does. Yup.”

“So Wednesday’s out.”

“Oh no it’s not. Little Garfield, come on. We’ll live the bus life. Wednesday’s perfect.” He wrestles his bag onto his shoulder and glances back before he leaves. “Seriously, you’re the best. Thanks for offering this.”

“I didn’t.”

“See you Wednesdaaaaaaay,” he warbles.

Scene 17

All week, I’m a yarn ball of nerves. I can’t focus on anything. On the drive to school Wednesday, I’m so queasy, Anderson has to pull over.

“Breathe in and out.” He rubs my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Why am I always like this?”

“Oh, Katy. It’s just theatrical morning sickness. You know that.”

I make it through algebra, which is a miracle under the circumstances. Not that Ms. Evans cares in the slightest. She is all about polynomials today. Teachers never get it. Like, come on. It’s audition week. In a just world, they’d turn off the lights, skip the academic bullshit, and just let us all curl up in fetal positions with the Once Upon a Mattress soundtrack on repeat.

By lunchtime, the squad has officially descended into panic mode. All of us. Brandie’s too nervous to eat. Raina’s convinced she’s losing her voice, so she’s taken a vow of silence. She’s actually carrying around a spiral-bound notebook with common Raina phrases to flip to, like: Nope. Hell the fuck yes. I’m judging you. Bye, f-boy.

But for whatever reason, Anderson’s the eye of the hurricane today. Calm amid the chaos. He slides gingerly into his seat, cupping his chin in one hand.

“Matt wants to get together and rehearse,” he says, and my heart—

Just.

Plummets.

Wow. Matt and Andy. Rehearsing together. And making out, probably. Romantic multitasking. My best friend and my crush.

It’s just weird. Our communal crushes have always been so safely contained. Like a row of dolls on a shelf. We take them down when we want them and put them back when we’re done.

But Matt’s Pinocchio. He’s this real-life guy who walks and talks and makes plans, and apparently those plans are with Anderson. Just Anderson. Not me.

It’s just great. Absolutely great.

“Have fun with that,” I say, aiming for casual. But it comes out spiky and short.

Anderson rolls his eyes. “Okay, sourpuss, it’s not a date. Y’all are all invited. Right after school, my house.”

Raina holds up her notebook. Hell the fuck yes.

“Oh, fun. I’ll bring snacks,” says Brandie.

“Nothing dairy,” Andy says firmly. “None of us are having dairy until after auditions. Actually, Katy, can you bring tea? Your dad has all that herbal tea, right?”

My chest feels tight. “I can’t come.”

“Oh no! No, I’ll drive you. Don’t worry about the tea. We’ll leave straight from school.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—I promised . . . Noah.”

Raina snorts. “Noah Kap—” she starts to say but quickly clamps her mouth shut, flipping frantically through her notebook. Bye, f-boy. Bye, f-boy. Bye, f-boy. She stabs the words repeatedly with her pointer finger.

I cover my face. “I knooooooow.”

“I don’t get it,” says Anderson.

“I’m supposed to teach him how to sing.”

“Okay, that’s random.” Andy reaches for my hand across the table. “Can you get out of it?”

“No. I don’t know.”

God. Of fucking course. The one day—literally the one day I make plans without the squad, Matt Olsson enters the picture. And yeah, I guess I could ditch Noah. One afternoon certainly won’t make or break his singing voice. But this kind of situation throws me. I’m allergic to making choices. At least I’m allergic to choosing between people. I mean, on the one hand, I have my best friends, my whole squad, and the cutest boy in the universe, all of whom would like me to spend my afternoon with them rehearsing for the musical I can’t stop daydreaming about. On the other hand, there’s Noah, a literal f-boy, who basically tricked me into hanging out in the first place.

The thing is, I’m not a person who blows off commitments.

Holy shit, though. The thought of the squad and Matt rehearsing without me.

I guess a tiny part of me is relieved it’s not just Andy and Matt. Raina and Brandie