Backstage Girl

03 | is that a fret?

"I can't go," Ella said. "You don't think I should. Right?"

She passed a mug of steaming tea to Louise. The dark-haired girl was curled up in Sophia's bed, clutching a pillow to her stomach like a drowning sailor clutching a life preserver. Ophelia was gently stroking her hair. Next to them, Sophia was wearing a fluffy white bathrobe, painting her nails jet-black.

"I think you should go," Sophia said, for the millionth time. "When else will you get the chance to tour with the most famous band in the world?"

Ella feigned surprise. "I wasn't aware the Beatles were still touring."

"Funny."

"I thought so."

Sophia pointed her nail polish brush at Ella sternly. "If you don't go, you're insane."

"What's insane," Louise said, looking slightly green, "is that there's two of you right now." She shielded one eye with a hand, squinting up at Ella. "Can you stop pacing, please? It's making me queasy."

"Look, I can't just go on tour." Ella hopped on to the bed. "It's—"

"Bed!" Louise yelped, cringing. "Don't move the bed!"

"Sorry! I forgot."

"I wish I could bloody forget," Louise growled, clutching the pillow tighter. "I feel like an army of jackhammers has taken up residence in my head."

"Poor baby," Ophelia crooned, stroking her hair. "Those martinis were lethal." She smiled at Ella. "I agree with Soph; you should go, Ells. Break the rules for once."

Ella stared at her; Ophelia once cried when she forgot to return an overdue library book, so the fact that she was telling her to break the rules was nothing short of miraculous.

"But I won't know anyone," Ella pointed out, chewing her lip. "And the boys will be rehearsing most days. What if I get lonely?"

"Well, I'll go with you," Louise said casually, as if she was suggesting that they grab an ice cream cone. "My classes don't start until January, and I haven't seen Max in ages." She shrugged. "We could both join for the first few weeks of the tour."

"You mean it?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Oh, you're kidding me," Sophia groaned. "So you're both going to jet around the U.S. while Ophelia and I rot in Toronto?" She jabbed her polish brush at Ella once more. "Where's the justice in that?"

Ella rolled her eyes. "You have a photo shoot with Cosmo next week, Soph. I don't think you'll exactly be suffering."

"True." Sophia held up a hand, admiring her handiwork. "And you can bring me back that face cream that I like from New York."

"And books," Ophelia chimed in. "Lots of books."

"There are books in Canada, you know," Ella said, and Ophelia smiled sheepishly.

"I know," she said. "But the new Nicholas Sparks one doesn't come out here until April, and I really can't wait that long."

Ella stole Louise's tea, taking a sip of the warm beverage to steady herself.

This was a bad idea. In fact, this was a bad idea of epic proportions. She just failed out of university; she didn't deserve to travel the world. She deserved to spend her days grinding espresso beans at Starbucks and getting shouted at by middle-aged mothers for mixing up a latte and a caffè misto.

She couldn't just run away from her problems.

And yet.

She passed the tea back to Louise, pursing her lips. Up until now, Ella had tried to be the perfect daughter. She got a scholarship to Lovewood Academy because her father wanted her to. She got into the best business school in Canada because her mother asked her to.