" Your eyes are puffed, Anthony," she said. " You cry at all last night?" There ain ' t no point in lying to her, so I just told the truth.
" Yeah..." I sighed. " I ' m really sorry... I ' ve been givin ' you a lot of trouble, haven ' t I?" Jasmine gave me another look. A different look, though.
" You ain ' t never been givin ' me trouble," she said. I could tell she was a little annoyed. " You been more emotional than usual. So what? We all get like that every now and then. It don ' t annoy me, though." Her expression softened, and she became the understanding, kind Jasmine I ' m used to. " I ' m here for you, Anthony. If you need anything, tell me. Wake me up in the middle of the night. Wreck my plans. I really don ' t care."
I gave a timid smile. " Yeah... thanks, Jazz..." It was weird, seeing people care. Most of the time, everyone thinks I ' m calm and collected with my whole life together. Most of the time, everyone thinks I ' m the famous rich boy who always got the easy way out. No one really stopped to listen to me. But I noticed my Jazzy ' s face. I noticed her eyes. She looked upset about something, and I couldn ' t help but feel sorry. " I love you," I said quietly. She smiled, but her eyes were still sad. " I love you, too."
The longer we performed, the more sick I felt. My head was killing me by the time noon came. Everyone told me I should just go home and they could get someone to fill in for me, but I wanted to stay. I needed to stay. I hardly ever missed a day unless I had somewhere to be or I was throwing up. Other than that, I was at the theater.
Later on that day, Carleigh decided to try to convince me. I don ' t know why. She should ' ve known that it was pointless.
" You ' re obviously sick," she argued. Yeah. Sick. That ' s the right word to use. " I ' m fine," I said, but I was lying. I ain ' t ever fine. " No, you ' re not." Carleigh looked at me with stern eyes. She always was the motherly type. " You need to go home, Anthony. If I see you here tomorrow, I ' m beating you up." She likes to joke around, too.
" I wanna be here for Alysha ' s last curtain call!" I protested. That was a lousy excuse.
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