Bad Romeo Read Free

shallow breath. “Everything’s fine, Cody. All good.”
    “Okay, then,” he says brightly. “Just letting you know we’re about to start.”
    He disappears, and it’s just Ethan and me again. Oh, and the shitload of baggage we carry.
    “We’re here to do a job,” I say, my voice hard. “Let’s just get it done.”
    His brows furrow and his jaw tightens, and for a second I think he’s not going to let it go, but he says, “If that’s what you really want.”
    I push down a vague sense of disappointment. “It is.”
    He nods, and without saying another word, heads downstairs and out the door.
    I take a moment to compose myself. My face is hot, my heart is pounding, and I almost laugh when I think how he already has me tied in knots, and we haven’t even started rehearsals.
    The next four weeks are going to suck harder than a black hole.
    I straighten myself up and head back into the rehearsal room.
    By the time I grab my script and a water, there’s only one chair left at the production table, and naturally, it’s beside Holt. I drag it as far from him as I can and sink into the uncomfortable plastic.
    “Everything okay?” Marco raises his eyebrows.
    “Yep. Fine,” I say with a smile, and it’s like I’m back in the first year of drama school, saying what others want to hear so they’ll be happy even if I’m not.
    Playing my role.
    “Then let’s start at the beginning, shall we?” Marco says. There’s a rustling of paper as everyone opens their scripts.
    What a great idea. All good stories need to start somewhere.
    Why should this one be any different?

 
    TWO
    IN THE BEGINNING
    Present Day
New York City
The Diary of Cassandra Taylor
    Dear Diary,
    Tristan has suggested I use you to help chronicle the events in my life that led me to being the maladjusted individual I am today. He wants me to look at some of the unhealthy relationships that have made me moody and emotionally unavailable, so I thought I’d start with the jackpot of all my regrets:
    Ethan Holt.
    The first time I saw him, I was simulating anal sex with someone I’d just met.
    Wow. That sounds bad.
    Let me explain.
    I was auditioning for a place at The Grove Institute of Creative Arts, a private college that offered courses in dance, music, and visual arts, and also housed one of the most prestigious drama schools in the country.
    Built on the bones of an old orchard, it was located in Westchester, New York, and in recent history, it had trained some of America’s most talented stars of theater and screen.
    I’d been dreaming about studying there forever, so in my senior year, when all my friends were applying to colleges to be doctors, lawyers, engineers, and journalists, I applied to be an actress.
    The Grove was my first choice for many reasons, not the least of which was that it was on the other side of the country from my parents.
    It wasn’t that I didn’t love my parents, because I did. But Judy and Leo had very specific ideas about how I should live my life. Because I was an only child and therefore programmed to do anything and everything to gain their approval, I basically lived up to all their unrealistic ideals.
    By the time I reached my senior year, I’d never drunk alcohol, smoked cigarettes, eaten anything other than Judy’s healthy-but-tasteless vegetarian crap, or slept with a boy. I was always home when I was supposed to be, even if it was so they could both completely ignore me, or snipe at each other, or not be there at all.
    My mother was a fixer. She always felt like she should be bettering herself, or me. I was clumsy, so she enrolled me in ballet classes. I was chubby, so she watched every mouthful I ate. I was shy, so she made me go to drama classes.
    I hated everything she forced me to do, except for drama. That one stuck. Turns out I was pretty good at it, too. Pretending I was someone else for a few hours? Yeah, that rocked my world.
    Leo’s main contribution to my upbringing consisted of laying