Oops! The Bad Boy Is My Drama Partner

Chapter 2: Promises of Hell

Chapter 2: Promises of Hell

Clare’s POV

“Alright!” Professor Adella’s voice spilled across the hall, dragging everyone’s attention back to her.

“Now that we’ve witnessed that breathtaking performance—” she actually said breathtaking “—let’s move on to assigning the rest of the roles for our fall play!”

She scanned her clipboard and called out the rest who had signed up. Willingly might I add. She judged and some people left the hall with tears while some seemed happy with their performance and her words.

“Next is Betty Mae,” she called out and Betty stepped out. Her eyes found mine and she looked like she wanted to wring my neck but it only lasted for a second before she plastered a sweet sickly smile on her face.

She acted quite beautifully if I do say so myself and I didn't know who could top her. She threw me a smirk as she walked down the stage and Professor Adella went up.

Professor Adella smiled sweetly. “ It's time for the announcement of roles.”

Everyone was on the edge of their seats.

“The second female lead will be played by… Betty Mae.”

For a moment, you could’ve heard a pin drop. Then a single, strangled sound came from Betty’s throat. “What?”

Professor Adella didn’t even look up. “You’ll be playing Lila, Jacob’s sister. A crucial supporting role.”

Betty’s jaw slackened. “Supporting? How dare you give me the supporting role? I have never been a supporting role in my life!”

She stomped her feet like a child and Professor Adella just sighed.

“With all due respect, Professor Adella,” Betty said, stepping forward, “I’ve always played the lead. I’ve been performing since kindergarten. I even have a trophy from last year’s State Theatre Competition.”

“Yes, and you were wonderful,” Professor Adella said without missing a beat. “Which is why I think it’s time to challenge you with something different.”

“Different?” Betty repeated. Her laugh came out sharp. “Like being the background? Who the hell got the lead if not me then?”

Professor Adella looked at me and everyone's eyes followed.

“Her?!” Betty screeched.

Professor Adella smiled as if she hadn’t noticed the animosity. “This play isn’t about ego, Miss Mae. It’s about art.”

Betty didn't say anything anymore. She just went back to her seat but everyone else could tell how tense the air was.

After what felt like an hour, Professor Adella dismissed us. The moment her back turned, I grabbed my bag and bolted for the doors like my life depended on it. Which, considering Betty Mae’s death glare, it probably did.

But of course, the world hated me.

“Clare.”

I didn't want to stop. I kept rushing for the door but just as the person before me stepped out, someone appeared and slammed the door shut.

“You should really listen when someone calls you.” one of Betty's cronies said, standing in front of me with a nasty smirk on her face and her hand on her hip.

I froze, slowly turning around.

Betty stood in front of the stage with Cleo and Summer, her two dunderheads. Betty’s arms were crossed.

“Hey, Betty,” I said weakly, trying to be casual. “Great, uh, performance today.”

“Save it,” she snapped, heels clicking as she approached. “You think you’re funny, don’t you? Getting up there, pretending to cry like some tragic heroine. Professor Adella might buy your little act, but I don’t.”

“I didn’t pretend,” I said, taking a step back. “I was genuinely terrified.”

Summer scoffed. “You expect us to believe you didn’t sign yourself up?”

“Yes!”

Cleo tilted her head. “Then who did?”

I looked at Betty. Her eyes narrowed.

For a second, I almost asked her outright. But something in her stare said that would be the dumbest possible move.

“I—I don’t know,” I muttered.

Betty smirked. “Sure you don’t. You probably begged Adella for it. You’ve always been desperate for attention.”

My jaw dropped. “I literally try to avoid human interaction. Ask anyone.”

“Cute.” Betty leaned closer, her perfume choking me. “Listen, Westbrook. You’re going to march back to Professor Adella tomorrow and tell her you’re quitting. You’ll say it was a misunderstanding. And then I’ll get my part back. Got it?”

I blinked. “You want me to do what?”

She folded her arms. “Quit. Simple.”

“I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can. Unless you want everyone to find out about…” She trailed off deliberately.

My stomach flipped. “About what?”

Betty shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. That little meltdown you had in fifth grade? When you ruined the school play? You cried so hard, your fake wings fell off. It’s still on video somewhere.”

Cleo laughed. “Iconic.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes and I wanted to let them flow.

I considered it. Quitting. Going back to my safe little bubble of invisibility. I’d never have to see her face again or deal with her smug smiles. I could survive the humiliation quietly and pretend this never happened.

“Honestly,” Betty sneered, “some people just aren’t meant to shine. It’s better when you stay invisible, don’t you think? That’s where you belong.”

Just not meant to shine? My fists clenched in anger as her words played in a loop in my head. I had been known as brilliant my whole life but it didn't mean much. No one cared about the nerd, it was a social stain.

I loved theatre and acting but my fifth-grade trauma made me stay away from it and now that I had the one shot at doing what I loved, I should let it go because of some self-proclaimed queen bee?

I straightened. “No.”

Betty’s smile faltered. “Excuse me?”

“I said no,” I repeated, louder this time. “I’m not quitting.”

Cleo blinked. “Did she just—”

“She did,” Summer muttered.

Betty’s jaw tightened. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“Probably someone who peaks in high school and then falls off the grid in college,” I blurted before I could stop myself.

Her eyes went wide. Cleo gasped. Summer choked on air.

I immediately regretted existing. “Uh, I mean—”

Betty took a step closer and I thought she was going to hit me but instead she roughly jabbed her perfectly manicured nail in my chest. “Fine. Keep the role. Let’s see how long you last.”

She leaned in even closer, whispering in my ear “I’m going to ruin you, Westbrook. On stage and off it. By the time I’m done, you’ll wish you’d never opened your mouth.”