by Liz Botts
“All that means is that anyone can audition. You may or may not audition in front of all the other people, especially if the part has a speaking role,” I said.
“How do you know all this?” Christy asked. “Have you ever auditioned for a movie?”
People began to move around the room signaling that the sessions were ending. Christy and I had a little area near the front, so I knew we needed to wrap this up. I knew that Christy didn’t like to be rushed, so I started arranging my purse and my backpack at my feet for easy pick up. That had become her signal to follow suit.
Today, though, she wasn’t paying attention. Instead, she slumped down in her chair and picked at the arm, making a small pile of fuzz.
“I’ve never auditioned for a movie,” I admitted. “But a lot of my classmates have. I’ve just heard their stories. Don’t worry about any of that. You should have fun with this. I’ll come and hang out with you for as long as they’ll let me.”
The noise around us increased to a point that even Christy noticed. She looked up out of her self-imposed pout and sighed. “That’s good, I guess.” She paused to shrug on her jacket. As she stood up, she said, “One more thing, do you think it’s wrong to charge money at school for a chance to see Carter Keller at Crossroads?”
****
“Do you really think you should be doing this?” I asked as Harlow climbed out of the passenger seat of her car.
She winced as she stood. Even two weeks after her surgery she still had a lot of soreness in her lower abdomen. Harlow and Britney had moved in with Mom and Dad until my sister was completely recovered. Just yesterday, Mom had confided in me that Harlow’s recovery was taking a lot longer than a normal appendectomy because the infection had been fairly bad. I just kept thanking my lucky stars that Josh had been with me. He kept a cool head, which had made everything go much smoother.
Harlow shot me a dirty look. “I’m fine,” she said through clenched teeth. “I am not letting some dumb surgery stop me from being in this movie.”
I rounded the car quickly to support her if she needed help. After a brief moment to steady herself, Harlow began walking toward the front doors of the local theater where the auditions were being held.
The door swung open just as we reached the building, and Christian, the EMT, stepped out. Harlow froze. The two of them stared at each other for a long time, not saying anything. I had surmised that Christian was the baby daddy, to use Hayley’s term. After we had all gotten to the ER that night, Hayley had taken a tired and confused Britney back to our apartment. Then in the aftermath of having her appendix removed and her very slow recovery, Harlow hadn’t wanted to talk about the mystery man. That’s when Hayley and I decided he had to be Britney’s father.
Now here he was again.
“Harlow, we’re holding up the line,” I said, hoping to gently prod her into the building.
She lifted her chin and swept through the door past Christian. He looked at me in a pleading way, but there was nothing I could do. I gave him a half-smile and shrugged before following Harlow inside.
The lobby of the theater was packed. A quick glance around told me the whole thing was well organized. I grabbed Harlow’s elbow and guided her to the check-in table on the left. While she filled out her paperwork, I peered around the room trying to catch a glimpse of Christy. We had agreed to meet by the grand staircase that led to the balcony. The problem with that plan appeared to be that about fifty other people had the same idea. The red carpeted stairs were packed with people standing shoulder to shoulder.
“Oh, we have to audition in front of everyone,” Harlow said as she came up behind me.
I raised an eyebrow waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, I asked, “And is that a problem?”
She waved a hand dismissively in the air. “Of course not. I’m just thrilled that so many people will get to see my acting chops.”
“Hey, why don’t you sit down for a minute?” I said. “I need to find someone.”
Harlow’s mouth twisted in a grimace that I thought meant she was in pain. Instead she curled her lips back into what I could only describe as a sneer and said, “I told you that I am fine. I need to find somewhere quiet to do my warm up exercises.”
With that she turned and slowly made her way through the crowd with slow deliberate steps. I had to shake my head at her. This stubborn side of Harlow was the one I had known all my life, but now it didn’t annoy me. To the contrary, I applauded this side of her that wasn’t letting her dream of being an actress die. She had found a way to incorporate the dream with her new reality. I envied that.
“Hannah!”
I turned toward my name being yelled over the din in the room. Christy skidded to a halt in front of me, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She looked like a little terrier dog, too excited to be contained in her own body.
Her eyes widened as she grabbed my hand. “I met him!” she said. “I actually met Carter Keller. He’s just as delicious as you would think.”
“Are you still auditioning today?” I asked as I laughed along with her. That’s the nice thing about giddiness: it was contagious.
“Just for a tiny part in some of the crowd scenes. Carter gave me the best advice about not going after a part that you aren’t ready for.” Christy sighed. The smile on her face made her look totally contented with her life. Carter Keller’s advice could be seen two ways from my point of view. He either had been sincere in his words of wisdom, or he had been letting his ego talk for him. Either way, I was glad that Christy was going for something more her speed.
“My sister is auditioning today,” I said, trying to make conversation with my star-struck young companion. When Christy didn’t respond, I asked, “So is Carter Keller going to be here today for the auditions?”
“I don’t know,” Christy said. She flushed. The red spots staining her cheeks made her look like a china doll. “He didn’t say anything when he came over to our house for dinner. He. Ate. At. My. House. Hannah, I can’t tell anyone but you about this stuff because you keep everything confidential. The secrets are eating me up inside. I just want to tell the world. Carter Keller is ah-may-zing!”
“Why don’t we go find a seat close to the front so we can watch the auditions?” I suggested, placing an arm around Christy’s shoulders and drawing her through the crowd.
“Hey,” Christy said as we settled into well-worn red cushioned seats. “How’s your boyfriend? He’s pretty dreamy too.”
“Dreamy? Who even uses that anymore?” I teased. “And he’s fine.”
“You can say that again,” Christy said with a cheeky grin.
“And he’s here,” I said, startled by Josh’s sudden appearance a few rows back. He spotted me and his eyes crinkled at the corners as his face lit up in a smile. My heart skittered offbeat. When he reached the row behind us, he moved easily down the line of empty seats before hopping over to take the seat beside me. “Hey, what are you doing here?”
In the past two weeks since Josh had come to the rescue, he had been around every day. We had seen each other at rehearsals, and had talked more, but mainly we just seemed to be getting our bearings again.
Josh’s smile deepened and he said, “I called to check on Harlow, and your mom said you guys were down here. Thought I’d come check out the action.”
His hand rested lightly on top of mine. When had he put that there? My breath caught in my throat. This felt so weird, like when we first started dating. Little zips of nerves spread along my arms. I slid my hand into his so that our fingers twined together.
I cleared my throat to gain control of myself. “Josh, this is Christy.”
Christy giggled. “Hi,” she said.
“Nice to meet you,” Josh said.
“Everyone, settle down, please.”
At the sound of the voice on the microphone, Josh and I both turned, startled. Ms. Bard, our high school drama teacher, stood on the stage looking very much like she usually did. Her graying
blonde hair was stuck up in a messy bun. She wore a long velvety looking green skirt and a multi-colored tunic top. Most people would look odd in such an ensemble, but for her it just worked.
I squeezed Josh’s hand. “I haven’t seen her in so long.”
Josh nodded. “I know. We’ll have to catch up with her after all this is over.”
I hadn’t questioned the fact that Josh had come down to the theater at my mom’s news. My heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings.
The idea of catching up with our high school drama teacher sent a bucket of cold water cascading over my head. I couldn’t imagine walking up to her in our current state, and trying to fake our way through the happy couple routine or just try to explain how things were between us.
Ms. Bard had always been our biggest champion; she’d always taken credit for getting us together by casting us in our first show. I didn’t know if it was my own embarrassment that I couldn’t get my life together or if I was just using that as a cop-out yet again. Either way, the thought of disappointing Ms. Bard had me reeling.
As I stared blindly at the stage, lost in my thoughts, I realized that yet again I was putting other people’s reactions ahead of what was best for me and Josh. The thought nearly choked me. Shame washed over me and I pulled my hand away from him.
“We still need to talk,” I reminded him.
He studied me in silence for a few moments. I could feel his eyes on me even after I dropped my gaze. “Of course we still need to talk,” he agreed finally. “I just thought…well, that things were back on the right track.”
“They were. They are. I just…” I shrugged, feeling a little helpless.
To his credit, Josh didn’t sigh or retreat into himself. He reached back over and took my hand. “Hannah,” he said. “We are working this out together.”
I nodded slowly. Why was it that when I looked at Josh lately the whole world seemed to recede into the background? Even when we were fighting. Although I supposed we weren’t actually fighting at the moment. I just felt the same tired argument bubbling up inside of me, and I huffed out a frustrated breath. Josh’s eyebrows knit together as he waited for me to say something.
“I just…you’re more important than anything else,” I said. “I keep messing that up, and not showing you, but you are. I need to make sure, though, that things aren’t going to be the way they were before.”
Josh leaned closer and said, “I know what you’re worrying about, Han. So stop it.” His breath was warm on my ear. Little shivers of awareness danced along my nerve endings. “Don’t get me wrong, I want you. I want all of you, heart, body, and soul. We don’t need to jump back into bed together just because we agree to try again.”
A blush, hot and fierce, crept up my neck. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I peered around to see if anyone had heard him. Of course, most people in our general vicinity, including Christy, were listening as Ms. Bard explained how the auditions would work. Still, to hear him speak so plainly about how he felt made me lightheaded. That’s what I loved about him.
Before I had a chance to say anything, Christy grabbed my other hand, ending the moment. She squealed as she said, “My group goes first. I think I’m going to pass out. Or throw up. Or both.”
I shot what I hoped came across as an apologetic smile at Josh, and turned toward Christy. “You’ll do fine. There are no lines, right? You just need to pretend to do whatever they ask you to do,” I said.
“Hannah, why is your grandma here?” Amusement laced Josh’s voice.
Josh’s question drew my attention away from Christy. I followed his gaze across the packed auditorium to where, sure enough, my grandma and her friends sat. They were hooting and whistling and clapping at literally everything Ms. Bard said. I dropped my face to my hands. This was not happening. My breath caught as I remembered that Harlow had decided to audition for a small speaking part. Grandma was obviously here to audition. The two of them would essentially go head-to-head.
“Fantastic,” I muttered. “Total and complete humiliation.”
“What’s going on?” Christy asked, peering in the direction Josh had pointed.
I shook my head. “Nothing, just my typical family activity apparently.”
Christy looked at Josh. “What is she talking about?”
Josh grinned. “Just wait,” he said. “You’ll see.”
With a shrug, Christy settled back in her seat. She did a few deep-breathing exercises I had shown her. When she closed her eyes, I knew she was doing a visualization exercise. The smile that curved my lips was a calm one. I knew that the time I had spent with Christy over the past few months had been well spent.
“I’d like group one, numbers one to twelve, to approach the stage,” Ms. Bard announced.
Christy’s eyes flew open. I gave her a quick, one-armed hug before she jumped up and hurried down the aisle. Ms. Bard sat on a stool on the right side of the stage, directly in front of the heavy red curtain. I wondered why she wasn’t auditioning. In high school, no one was as funny or as talented as Ms. Bard.
A man with a long, thin mustache stood up next to the orchestra pit. The long folding table set up in front was serving as a judging panel. The man paced slowly back and forth in front of the stage, looking up at each of the twelve people standing, waiting for direction. Christy actually looked relatively relaxed among the group. One girl, probably a year or so younger than Christy, looked like she might faint.
Finally Mustache Man climbed the short flight of stairs to the stage, and walked over to Ms. Bard. He snatched the microphone from her hand, eliciting a small gasp from the audience. “Jump,” he snapped.
The group on the stage stared back at him incredulously before starting to hop up and down stiffly. Christy stood still. At first I thought she was frozen in place by her fear, but then I caught the smirk growing across her face. Surrounded by eleven other people hopping up and down like mechanical rabbits, Christy put a hand on her hip.
“How high?” she yelled.
Mustache Man’s mouth curved into a smile. “You get the part.”
Then he tossed the microphone back to Ms. Bard and returned to his seat in front of the stage. The hoppers stopped jumping and stared either at Christy or Mustache Man. Christy pumped a fist in the air, and ran off the stage. She skidded to a stop at the end of our aisle.
“I’m going to call my dad,” she said, slightly out of breath. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The eleven rejects filed off the stage slowly, confusion lining most of their faces. “What just happened here?” I asked Josh.
Josh chuckled. “Apparently Christy knew enough to read between the lines.”
I shook my head, still not sure what to think. By the time I refocused on the activity on the stage, another group had been called. We settled into the rhythm of the auditions. I remained slightly on edge while waiting to hear Harlow or Grandma called. Christy slid into her seat ten minutes later. She flashed me a big grin. I wanted to ask her about the audition, but the noise in the auditorium didn’t lend itself well to side conversations.
“Group nine,” Ms. Bard announced. Her tone was flat.
“Do you think Ms. Bard is happy?” I whispered to Josh.
He raised an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”
I jutted my chin toward the stage. When I really looked at her I could see that she sagged against the chair with her arms folded loosely in front of her. The microphone hung limply in her left hand. “Just look at her.”
Josh studied Ms. Bard. Our once vibrant drama teacher seemed a shell of her former self. She simply allowed the guy to walk all over her without so much as a sassy retort. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. I think this whole thing might just be draining. Plus, that guy was a jerk to her.”
“Yeah, he was.”
Just then I saw Grandma and Harlow making their way to the stage. I groaned. “This cannot be happening.”
Josh chuckled. “This is not going to end wel
l.”
On stage, Grandma caught sight of Harlow and waved. “Yoohoo! Harlow! Granny’s gonna beat ya'!”
Harlow’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t take the bait. Instead she turned toward the audience and pasted a big smile on her face. Beneath the smile I could see the grimace of pain. Why had I agreed to bring the fool? She clearly needed to be at home in bed still. Thankfully she was standing still for now, but who knew what they would require for the audition.
Grandma’s antics got several people in the audience laughing and catcalling. I saw the man with the mustache scribbling something on his notepad as he pointed to Grandma and leaned toward another guy on the panel. I loved my grandma, but this on-and-off again feud with Harlow pushed the limits of my patience. My mind strayed to the ridiculous amounts of flirting Harlow had done with Duke before Grandma’s wedding. Grandma and Harlow had escalated in snarkiness until I had to intervene, which had ended with Harlow giving me a black eye. I shuddered at the memory.
“We need a dancer,” Mustache Man began. “The person who gets this role will be required to perform a solo in a line dance during the wedding scene. Right now, we’d like each of you to show us your best impromptu line dance. Just step up when it’s your turn and give us a sampling of what you can do. Music!”
The girl at the beginning of the line did a generic version of a popular line dance from the nineteen nineties. She lacked rhythm, and by the end of her audition her face was beet red. I felt sorry for her, but my attention was on Harlow. I had no idea how she would get through this part. Two more girls went.
“This is painful,” Christy whispered.
I nodded my agreement, clenching my teeth as Grandma stepped forward. She fell into step with the beat of the music immediately. Her performance was comical and exaggerated. Even I had to admit she was good.
“Must be all that practice at the Sugar Bomb,” Josh said. I choked on my laughter and started coughing.
“That’s really your grandma?” Christy asked on my other side. “No grandma should be able to dance that way.”