Best Frenemies by Cari Simmons

something when Cassidy had talked about it before?
    â€œWe’re all doing it!” Cassidy sang with a twirl.
    â€œWe are ?”
    â€œWell, I mean, you know, me and Xia and Evie and April,” Cassidy said hastily. The minute she said it, Cassidy looked like she might have made a mistake. “Everyone from . . . my class.”
    â€œOh,” said Alice. This was the first time she’d ever heard Cassidy say “we” and not have it involve her. She put on her proudest, most supportive face. “Well, that’s awesome! I can’t wait to see you perform. I bet next year you’ll have the lead!” Alice didn’t feel as excited as she tried to sound, though. She felt a little left out.
    Alice must have been doing a great acting job, though, because Cassidy gushed on. “It’s going to be so fun. I mean, it’ll be cheesy—it’s an eighties musical revue, but so what. Our costumes will be really silly, like metallic wigs and glow-in-the-dark jewelry and crazy makeup and stuff, but you know me, I love being goofy like that.”
    â€œI’m . . . I just don’t remember you talking about it,” Alice stammered.
    â€œI have been, like, for weeks, silly,” Cassidy said. “Maybe you were just caught up with homework or the Nerd Herd or something.”
    Alice smiled. Even though her feelings were a little bit hurt, she kept her mouth shut.
    â€œThe best part is, Jesse’s doing stage crew for it,” Cassidy said, sitting back down on the floor and hugging one of the throw pillows. “So I’ll get to see him more too.”
    â€œThat sounds awesome!” Alice felt like cold cement was filling up her stomach. What she really wanted to say was, “Why didn’t you ask me to try out?”
    â€œI would have asked you to audition too,” Cassidy said hurriedly, like she could read Alice’s mind. “But I just assumed you were too busy. Maybe you can bring the Nerd Herders to come check out the show!”
    â€œYeah,” said Alice. But the Nerd Herd was a school group. They didn’t see each other all the time and talk about everything, and she hadn’t known them since she was superlittle, like with Cassidy. Maybe what Alice needed was her own thing, like the musical or some other club, but she still hadn’t figured out what “her” thing was.
    â€œI hope you’re not upset,” Cassidy said. “I just know that stage stuff isn’t your thing, right?”
    This was true, and Alice couldn’t deny it. It was one thing to sing along in their bedrooms to the radio, but that was just the two of them. Ever since the piano recital incident, no way. Alice even got a little nervous in class when she was asked to read out loud. But still, she wouldn’t have minded being asked —maybe Alice could have done stagecraft or helped hand out programs or something like that. Even if she had said no, just being asked would have been nice.
    â€œWhen does it open?” Alice asked. Maybe if she got more interested in the show, she’d be able to shake this blue feeling. She was supposed to feel excited for and supportive of her best friend, not whatever this was.
    â€œNovember,” Cassidy said. “Promise me you’ll come and cheer me on opening night? I won’t be able to sing a single note if I don’t know that my best friend is out there to support me.”
    â€œI’ll cheer loudest of all,” Alice said, and finally she meant it.
    â€œJust one thing really stinks, though,” Cassidy said. She flicked something invisible off her gauzy purple skirt. “I can’t hang with you after school or even on the bus until the show starts, because of rehearsal.”
    â€œWhat?” Alice asked. Between Cassidy’s dance classes and all of Alice’s homework, it had been hard to spend much time together, but at least they always had the fifteen or so