“Our Pacific Coast Whale Sounds CD!” Emily exclaimed. “Where did you find it?”
The guy probably explained, but I watched Emily, who beelined to her suitcase and pulled out the bright yellow Discman. Wordlessly, she slipped the CD inside, then connected a double-ended aux cable to the Bluetooth speakers. Soon, lonely moaning filled the cabin.
Hanna put her hands on her hips. “What circle of hell is this?” she demanded.
“It’s peaceful!” Emily and Sirena insisted, but they were already giggling.
As the debate continued about whale sounds (relaxing or slow torture?), I clambered up on my bunk and gestured for Will and Jonas to join me. They followed, settled in next to each other, and leaned against the window.
“So . . .” I looked around at the groups of twos and threes alternately hydrating and laughing. “What—how was—”
“Z.” Will grinned. “We had the best day. These are the BEST PEOPLE!”
Half the cabin cheered. The other half was busy adding their two cents about the CD. “It sounds like the whales are lonely!” “It sounds like drowning cows.” “It sounds like trombones are being murdered.”
Ignoring the debate raging below us, Jonas tilted his head back on the window and closed his eyes. “Dion and Roger are amazing.”
“Yeah, we basically spent the whole day together,” Will agreed. “It was all trust building, all day.”
That. That was what I was used to. Team building. Improv through trust.
“Sounds awesome,” I said, reflecting on my own day, feeling my cheeks redden all over again. I put my hands on them in a vain attempt to cool them down.
“It was.” Jonas shifted on the bunk. “They brought everyone together and turned off all the lights and we sat back-to-back in a circle. Each one of us was invited to say something that was true.”
“At first it was stuff like, ‘I’m wearing a red shirt,’ ” Will said, “but then it got deep. Someone said—” He looked at Jonas. “Oh, I’m not—I really shouldn’t say. It was all supposed to stay in the room.”
I nodded, understanding. That’s how those things go. But it didn’t stop me from feeling a little left out.
“Anyway.” Will gestured at Jonas. “You tell this part.”
My eyes widened. Telling a story with Will was like combat—you fought for control. Jonas was softening him. I smiled.
Jonas did, too. “People were dropping some serious secrets, and as I sat there, it just felt like the secret of Will and me . . . didn’t need to be one. Especially once we realized Sirena and Emily were together. I reached over for Will’s hand in the dark. And he let me take it. And then he squeezed mine. And then—”
Will’s face started to redden. “I didn’t quite realize we were going to go through the entire play-by-play here.”
I laughed. I liked seeing this vulnerable side of Will.
Jonas elbowed him. “It’s part of the story. You said I should tell this part of—”
“I know, I know.” Will elbowed him back. “Go ahead.”
He smiled. “And then when it was my turn, I said, ‘Will is my boyfriend.’ ”
I grinned.
“And I was next,” Will said, “and I said, ‘I’m Will.’ ”
I laughed and wrapped my arms around both of them in a messy hug. “Did everyone laugh?”
They beamed.
“Yeah,” Will said. “The good kind.”
“And after,” Jonas continued, “it was . . . normal. It feels so good to not have to hide this part of who I am.”
“I’m so glad you felt safe,” I said, laying my head on Will’s shoulder.
“Me, too,” Jonas agreed, laying his head on Will’s other shoulder. “What about you?” Will asked, poking my leg.
It was as if a cold rain blew in.
“Well . . .” I lifted my head. I wasn’t sure what to say. Will had already been shocked about my alleged flirting yesterday. What would he think about Ben’s hand on my naked back? About our walk? About my promise not to tell anyone? Earlier, I’d been desperate to confess all of my embarrassment, but now it seemed so wrapped up in the walk with Ben. I wasn’t ready to be lectured about a thing I wasn’t even sure was a thing.
“It was very . . . serious. Ben is unlike any coach I’ve ever had. Intense. He says he’s preparing us for the professional world. And seeing as how he’s been teaching and taking classes at UCB, not to mention the film and TV he’s done, he must know what he’s talking about.”
“Oh.” Will frowned. “But you’re having fun, right?”
Fun? Uh . . . “It’s . . . it’s good,” I said. “It’s going to be good.”
Normally, Will would never let me get away with that level of evasiveness, but he was distracted by Jonas, whose eyes were suggesting things to him a sister did not need to see.
“Those whales moaning kind of sound like something else to me,” Jonas said, raising his eyebrows at Will.
“Go. Get out of here. No one wants your love!” I tried to push them off my bunk.
Will laughed and kicked me a little but climbed down with Jonas. Hand-in-hand, they tried to sneak out of the cabin, but Emily spotted them. “I love you two together!” she shouted. Sirena slid an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, and she giggled. “Go kiss under the moon!”
Will shook his head, and Jonas grinned behind his hand as they darted out of the cabin.
“Zelda,” Hanna demanded, hands on her hips. “Your brother is a gay Korean American almost-twin, and you didn’t tell us? What other interesting secrets do you have? What else are you hiding?”
She had no idea.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Okay.” Ben tapped his pen on his clipboard. “We’ll run a couple Montages, then we’ll split off and write cold open sketches based on ideas we generate from the scenes. The Pauls told me this morning that Michael Edelheit is coming from Second City Toronto, and he’s specifically on the lookout for fresh writer-performers. Play your cards right, and it could be you with his business card in your hand. Got it?”
Now this was more my speed. I love improv, but I might love comedy writing a tiny bit more. And a Second City business card in my hand? I’d say yes, and to that. I smiled at Ben, but he clicked his pen and scribbled something on his clipboard.
Part of me hoped he’d be a little kinder to me after our walk yesterday, but today it was business as usual. At least I knew that under his facade, he thought I was worth something.
“Let’s get started,” Ben said, sitting backward on one of the folding chairs. “Somebody get a suggestion.”
Xander jumped forward and clapped his hands once. “For this next series of scenes, I need a suggestion for something you hate to do.”
“Go to the doctor,” Ben said.
As Xander cleared to neutral, I mimed slinging a stethoscope around my neck and hurried on stage. “Nurse?” I called out. “Send in my next patient.”
No one responded as my nurse, but Xander mimed opening my office door. “Doctor? Oh! Not my usual doctor!” He gave me a slow smile. “Well, hello there, lady doctor. How lucky am I? Should I drop my pants now, or now and later?”
My stomach twisted—how was I going to get around this?
Perform at the peak of your intellect.
Squinting, I tried to stay in the scene in character. “Lady doctor? I guess that makes you my gentleman patient.” I looked down at his “chart.” “Ah! I see you’ve had a series of brain injuries that make you say inappropriate things. Well. We should get you some heavy drugs to suppress that.”
Some chuckles rolled in from the wings.
“Who do I have to talk to,” Xander said, ignoring me, “to make sure I get you every time?” He circled around me. “Because I need a full checkup.”
“Well!” I said, my throat tightening. “Well, yes, see, the thing is, I’m really only an intern, so I don’t do full checkups. I’ll have to get my supervisor!” I skittered off stage and Xander moaned in disappointment.
>
That was only the beginning.
The next time I was in a scene, there were some allusions to my character being a porn actress, but it wasn’t the focus of the scene, so I let it go.
Then, four scenes in a row, I was basically relegated to being a sexy secretary.
“Okay, one more before we break for writing,” Ben said.
Determined to drive this Montage in a more pro-Zelda direction, I hopped up on stage to take charge. “Ben, are you going to give us a suggestion for this one, or can I—”
Brandon stepped in front of me. “You’re walking through the woods and you trip over something. What is it?”
Ben barked out a laugh. “Good hustle, Brandon. Okay . . . you trip over a dead body.” Brandon turned and gestured for me to join him.
I hesitated for a split second, but Jane Lloyd’s voice was in my head: Say yes. So, I joined him.
He pointed at the floor.
Ah. I was the dead body. Well, at least this way I wouldn’t have to talk to him.
I lay on the floor, arms and legs akimbo. I heard Brandon clear back to neutral, then clomp on stage.
“Whoa! A dead hooker!”
Everyone burst out laughing. My patience bubbled over, and I turned my head toward Ben. “Seriously?”
“Not a dead hooker!” Brandon jumped back.
Ben shrugged. “Don’t deny the reality that’s been established,” he said. “No matter what.”
“Even if it makes me uncomfortable?” I asked, squinting at him. “Hey, baby, don’t be ashamed. It’s the world’s oldest profession!” Brandon said, still in the scene. “What will you do for . . .” He mimed looking through his wallet. “Twenty bucks?”
“I’ll kick you in the shins for free,” I said, not in the scene.
“Kitty got claws!” Xander meowed.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “Every time I stand up for myself, you do that. I’m a cat? Is that what you’re saying?”
“This hooker is feisty.” Brandon mimed lifting his backpack on his back.
And damn him, his space work was excellent.
“Ben,” I said, sitting up, “it just feels like over and over we keep doing scenes where I’m—”
“Stay in the scene, Ellie.”
“But—that doctor scene—”
“Ellie. Quit being so sensitive and stay. In. The scene.”
“But—”
“Ellie. If I were Marcus, you’d be done for the day. You are a hooker in the woods. Quit being a child.”
A child? I pursed my lips. “Fine.” I climbed to my feet, turned to Brandon, and reminded myself to Trust your scene partner.
Brandon smirked and raised one of his eyebrows, daring me to fight back.
I bit my lip. While I believed in Jane Lloyd’s rules, both scene partners had to trust each other in order for the scene to win. I didn’t see how this was going to work if the only person trusting their partner was me.
Still—Jane had never let me down before.
I took a deep breath. “I’m a hooker in the woods,” I said in a monotone voice.
“Well, well, well,” Brandon drawled, looking me up and down. “Isn’t this my lucky day?”
I sighed.
“Since I’m low on cash, will you take Venmo?”
Everyone laughed.
Xander hiked on stage, joining us.
“Oh, look! A woods hooker! I think I’d like to see a dance,” Xander said. “I’ll be the pole.”
Perform at the peak of your intellect. “I’m . . . I’ve got a broken arm,” I said. “And there’s no signal out here, so no Venmo, either. If you don’t have cash, there’s no deal. And I’m expensive. Five thousand dollars minimum.” I turned to Brandon. “As you’ve already established there’s only twenty bucks in your wallet,” I grimaced and nodded at Xander, “and I can tell you aren’t carrying a wallet, I guess we’re out of luck.” I shrugged. “By the way, I also garden. Care to see what I’ve done with the squash?”
“I’m more interested in what you’ve got going on with the cantaloupes,” Brandon said and sidled up next to me.
Stepping back to avoid him, I knocked into Xander, who wrapped his arms around me. “Me, too,” he cooed. “I love a good pair of cantaloupes.”
I struggled my way out of his grip and turned around to face them.
“Hey!” Xander snapped. “This hooker’s a lot of trouble.”
My breathing was ragged. I had never felt less safe on stage. So even though I knew Jane Lloyd would not approve, I couldn’t see another way out: I mimed pulling out a gun. “Soon you’ll be dead. How’s that for too much trouble?” I asked and promptly shot Brandon and Xander in the chest.
They remained standing.
“Ellie, we don’t kill off our scene partners,” Ben reprimanded me.
“Oh, that’s not a crutch? A high school rule?” I asked, dangling my mimed gun off my pointer finger. “I know we don’t deny reality. You told me that. And yet I shot these asshats, and they’re still standing.” I mimed flipping the gun around on my finger and shot them again. “Die, asshats.”
They folded their arms. “Bulletproof jackets,” Brandon said with a smug look.
Everyone guffawed.
I mimed pulling back on my gun to reload it. “Heads don’t have bulletproof vests,” I said and aimed.
“Okay, okay, let’s cut the scene. Clearly, you’re very emotional, Ellie,” Ben said.
“I’m emotional?”
“Take five, everyone.” Ben clapped his hands.
I stood still, stunned by what had just happened as everyone cleared out. One guy said “period,” and I just about lost it.
“Put down your weapon, Ellie.” Ben smiled as he climbed on stage.
I looked down at the mimed the gun I’d been “holding.” Exhaling sharply, I shook out my hand.
“Always set down mimed objects,” he said quietly. “Then you’ll stay more aware of your space work in general.”
I hated to admit it, but that was actually good advice. But I was still mad. I crouched down, picked up the “gun,” looked him in the eye, put the whole thing in my mouth, and swallowed it.
He chuckled. “So much fire, little girl.”
My eyes bulged. “I am not a little girl—”
He put his arm around me, and I hated myself as I melted. Damn his good scent.
“I know you’re not . . . Trust me. I just mean you’re feisty. But you have to stop taking things like this personally.”
“Personally?” I pulled away.
“This is what it’s like out there,” he said, tucking a curl behind my ear. I twitched. “You need to decide if you can play with the big boys or if you’re going to run home crying to mama.”
I bit my lip and exhaled fire through my nose. “You’re saying I’m overreacting.”
He shrugged. “They’re just playing. They don’t really think you’re a hooker.”
I scoffed. “I know that.”
“Just let it go. Let more go. You’ll be surprised how not alienating your team—”
“He started the hooker scene,” I protested.
“And there are lots of guys like Brandon. Are you going to throw a fit every time someone does something like that?”
My mouth fell open. “Uh, yes?”
“Then you’re not going to have a long career in improv.”
I scoffed. “Are you serious? I have to be willing to be sexy secretaries and hookers to have a career in improv?”
“They’re just playing around,” he said. “And as a woman, you need to know how to harness your sexuality on stage. Have some fun.”
My throat was clogged with questions, the biggest one being, What if this isn’t fun anymore?
“Look, Ellie. Show these guys you earned your spot on the team. Get out of your head. You want a spot on this team, right? You want to meet Nina Knightley?”
The world stopped spinning on its axis. “Nina Knightley is coming?”
<
br /> He nodded.
“Saturday Night Live Nina Knightley. Nina on Her Own Nina Knightley,” I clarified.
He nodded again. “It’s the thirtieth anniversary of RMTA, so in addition to the reps from iO and UCB and Second City, big-deal alumni are coming back. There’s never been more pressure to have an amazing final show. Think of how huge it will be to be on the top team when you meet Nina Knightley.”
I bit the side of my thumbnail.
The Jakes came in with beef jerky and topped off water bottles.
“Think about it,” Ben said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Can you relax a little for a chance to impress Nina Knightley?”
I sighed. Maybe I was overreacting. It was just a scene. Or five. But ultimately, it was small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. I nodded. “Okay.” Ben smiled and squeezed my shoulder. The heat where he’d touched me cooled as he walked out into the hall.
I turned to the Jakes, determined to start fresh. “Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” they muttered.
One of them pushed the other as he was drinking his water, and it spilled on his shorts.
“Dude!” Jake 1 yelled.
“I won’t tell anyone you couldn’t make it to the bathroom,” Jake 2 promised.
And I was the child?
Jake 1 squirted water on Jake 2’s shorts. “Now I won’t tell either.” Jake 1 grinned.
Brandon and the other guys came in.
“Bathroom’s right over there.” Brandon smirked.
The Jakes squirted water at Brandon.
“Hey!” he yelled. Then he turned to me. “You up for a wet T-shirt contest?”
I opened my mouth to retort, caught Ben’s warning glance as he walked back into the room, and closed it again.
“Let’s get back to those Montages,” Ben called out. “Ellie? Do you have anything you need to say first?”
I knew he was testing me. Did I have the strength to be an adult? To be on Varsity?
I stared back at him. I wanted this so badly. I had to show them I was strong.
I shook my head at Ben, pursed my lips in a straight line, and cleared to neutral.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I tapped my pen on my notebook and shifted my back to find a more comfortable place to lean against the aspen tree. Maybe my sketch could be about a different kind of dead body.
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