She looks worried. “I’ve meant to check on you. I should have checked sooner—we’re coming up on the deadline, and—”

“Oh! Right! It’s fine!”

“It is?” She doesn’t look any less worried. But now she’s added “skeptical” to the mix.

“Oh yeah,” I say. “I should’ve said something. My friends are helping me.”

“That’s wonderful!” she says. “How generous of them!”

“You have no idea,” I say.

“You’re so lucky to have such great friends.”

Sudden, totally unexpected feeling like I’m going to tear up. “I know it,” I say, my voice breaking a little. “I really do.”

When I leave her office, it’s past noon, and the quad is busy with students making their way toward the caf or headed to the off-campus buses that take us to the next-biggest town (with at least two more restaurants than our local main street). I’m meeting Jack for lunch soon, even though I would kind of rather go hide in my bed now, still a little dejected by Carly’s dismissal of burlesque. The others will tell me to forget about it, it doesn’t matter what she thinks, and right now I wish that felt true.

I can’t find Jack in the clumps of boys coming down the stairs and ramp outside their dorm, but I do see Gavin. I duck my head, slipping to the other side of the lamppost like it’s actually going to hide me, which it doesn’t. He makes his way over to me.

“Hey, Addie-Addie,” he says, and then lowers his voice dramatically, leaning in like he’s going to tell me a secret. My stomach flips. “I heard that you are amazing.”

“Of course I’m amazing,” I say immediately, lifting my chin, pretending that I’m not totally startled he’s heard about it already, even on a campus this size. “How sad are you that you couldn’t come?”

“Just waiting for my private show,” he says.

“That is never going to happen,” I say.

“Are you really sure?” he says.

“Addie!” someone calls, before I can tell Gavin exactly how sure I am. I lift my hand to wave at Jack. He beams at me, and there’s the real flutter in my stomach. Happy to see him—he likes me! I like him! We actually talked about it! But those nerves are still there, too, the waiting-for-the-other-shoe-to-drop feeling. I’ve never understood that metaphor so well as right now—I don’t like how the feeling, the fear, can stick so hard to you.

“Hi,” I say, when he stops in front of us, and I can feel how big I’m smiling.

“Hi!” Gavin says.

“Gavin was just leaving,” I explain to Jack.

“No, I was just arranging my private show,” Gavin says.

“Have I said never in a million years yet?”

“I hope you change your mind,” he says.