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My dad’s furious because I want to take a gap year for auditions before uni. He says my future has already been decided. He wants me to attend Cambridge for business this autumn, then once I have a shitload of impressive letters after my name, I’ll carry on his legacy as king and pope of Sports Now. Parental expectations—I’m sick of both of them!
Evie rubbed her belly. Wow, this feels sorta familiar. She read on.
I want to continue acting. Mum’s on my side, but that means they fight all the bloody time.
I’m freaking because Dad knows people at Cambridge. He says he can still get me in for the fall semester. But if I could just get booked for another series or a film, maybe he’d stop harassing me and recruit Rupert instead? Evie, pray for me, cross everything! I need this gap year! I can’t quit acting cold turkey!
A croquembouche is a tower of profiteroles stuck together with loads of ganache. It’s proper yum! Translated into English it means crunch in the mouth. Weird, eh? Glad my A-level in French is good for something.
What’s with your e-addy? You roller skate? I would guess yes if your fave musicals are anything to go by.
No more mentions of Stuart, no more begging to know what was “going on.” Evie breathed easier. She appreciated his concern and would tell him about her Crohn’s one day. If she had to.
From: Evie Sutherland
To: Nico B.
Subject: Re: And you thought Dalston G had drama
I’d LOVE to try champagne! Hopefully your head’s not too bad. I’m glad you didn’t have a panic attack.
Your dad’s expectations are excessive (I’m sorry!). I can kinda relate. I’m supposed to help run my mum’s shop after I graduate from uni. Then when she retires, it’ll be all mine. OOH, THE POWER! The shop’s been in my mother’s family for generations, so it’s not a surprise or anything.
Roller skating…IS MY LIFE!
Evie paused. Used to be would more honest. Since her diagnosis, her favorite physical activities—roller skating, bouncing on the trampoline, octopush—were put on a temporary hold whenever her Crohn’s flared, replaced by genealogy, word search puzzles, and creative writing. She resumed typing.
I can also eat loads of Rice Krispie squares and not gain weight, wiggle my ears, and fold a fitted sheet.
Oh, I meant to ask—did you know my best friend Fiona has been texting your Rupert? They exchanged numbers yesterday.
And what’s up with YOUR address? SAXYBOY? Is that a typo or what? Someone thinks highly of themselves. LOL
Hitting send, her mood lifted. As she waited for Nick’s response, she checked her phone. Still no reply from Stuart.
From: Nico B.
To: Evie Sutherland
Date: Sent today at 11:32
Subject: Re: And you thought Dalston G had drama
But do you want to run your mum’s shop? Doesn’t your heart’s desire matter? There’s a big world out there just waiting to be conquered by the one and only (roller skating) Evie Sutherland. And when you do, I’ll bring the champagne and we’ll say, “Fock eht! Life’s too short to live someone else’s dream!”
Hmm. Mystery solved. I was wondering who Rupes was texting. Thanks for the dinner table ammunition!
I must say, I’m très impressed by your talents, Evie, but I’ll have you know I can play a recorder with my nose (yes, really!), ride a unicycle, and do an awesome cartwheel. Maybe I should add these to the special skills section of my acting CV? Whatcha reckon?
Re my email addy, I played jazz saxophone in school. Badly. Don’t judge.
You didn’t answer my other questions. How are you? How were things with Stewart when you left?
Nick spelt Stuart’s name wrong. Evie bit her lip. Discussing Stuart with him was unsettling. She felt disloyal—to both of them.
From: Evie Sutherland
To: Nico B.
