It was rather odd that my role was centred upon insulting Hayden, aka Benedick. At least I would sound authentic.
‘Don Pedro is approached!’ cried the messenger.
‘Okay, I want Don Pedro, Benedick, Claudio, Don John and Balthasar onstage,’ Mr Peterman instructed.
Alex, Hayden, Benjamin, Sara and a guy I didn’t know stepped onto the stage.
‘Good Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.’ Alex swaggered over to Claire, every square inch of him covered in sports logos. ‘I think this is your daughter.’ He took Claire’s hand and placed a kiss on it, giving her a wink. Claire pulled her hand away, blushing.
Oh my god. Alex was putting the moves on Claire while Jelena was backstage. I glared at him. Jelena was going to kill me. She’d already warned me to keep an eye on Alex.
‘Mr Peterman, what kind of lighting am I going to get?’ Benjamin slicked back his heavily gelled hair. ‘I was thinking that this scene calls for a spotlight on Claudio. He’s seeing Hero for the first time.’
‘Benjamin, this is a first read-through,’ Mr Peterman replied. ‘But I can assure you that no scene is going to be bright enough that you’ll require those sunglasses.’ He pulled Benjamin’s Armani shades off his eyes.
‘My agent told me they give me a brooding feel,’ Benjamin said, taking the glasses back. ‘I think that Claudio should be brooding. I mean, he’s a young man who’s just returned from the war —’
‘Could I have sunglasses too, Mr Peterman?’ I asked. ‘Beatrice is a rebel. Plus, I think they would make me feel much more comfortable in front of an audience —’
‘Continue the scene!’ Mr Peterman instructed. ‘With no sunglasses on anyone!’
Benjamin smiled at me. ‘Bummer.’
I smiled back, and saw Hayden frowning. What was his deal?
‘How come you feel uncomfortable in front of an audience?’ Benjamin asked. Without his shades, I could see that his eyes were an unusual crystal blue.
‘It’s the first time I’ve been onstage,’ I explained.
‘I could coach you if you want,’ he said. ‘I’ve been doing this for years. My agent says I’m a natural.’
‘Actually, I’m the one who should be helping her with her lines,’ Hayden cut in. ‘As we’re the ones who have all the scenes together.’
‘Only because of a serious error in casting.’ Benjamin squared his shoulders.
Hayden ignored the comment. ‘Aurora, I’ll be happy to give you any extra help you need.’
I didn’t answer. Last time he’d offered to help, he’d given the NAD a false idea of our encounter in his yard. For whatever twisted reason.
‘And so will I.’ Benjamin leapt in front of Hayden. They glared at each other.
Great. Now I was involved in some triangle of thespian rivalry between Hayden and Benjamin.
‘Just read the line, Aurora.’ Mr Peterman was rubbing his head wearily.
I felt slightly guilty about overstressing him, so I looked down at my next line.
‘I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you,’ I read scornfully, tossing in a sarcastic laugh.
‘What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?’ Hayden replied, his usual grin spreading over his face. Why did my insults never have any effect?
‘Alive and kicking!’ I replied, shaking a fist for good measure.
‘Aurora, stick to the script,’ Mr Peterman said.
‘But it is certain I am loved of all ladies,’ Hayden said, ‘only you excepted —’
‘Mr Peterman, would Benedick really have been desired by all the ladies or is it just an example of his overactive ego?’ I interrupted.
‘If he looked anything like Hayden, he’d have been desired alright!’ came a yell from a female cast member in the audience. A few whistles echoed her words.
‘Looks like your question has been answered,’ Hayden said, and gave the audience a grateful bow. ‘Thanks, ladies.’
I gritted my teeth. ‘Well, Beatrice is the one girl smart enough not to fall for this commitment-phobic egotist.’
‘Good character analysis, Aurora.’ Mr Peterman gave me a smile. ‘It will be very interesting to see how you play Beatrice giving way to her feelings for Benedick.’
If it was up to me, Beatrice wasn’t going to budge an inch.
I got a sudden flash of inspiration. ‘I was thinking, Mr Peterman, as the play’s set in the fifties, maybe Beatrice shouldn’t fall for Benedick. Benedick could fall for her, but she rejects him in favour of a career in publishing. I mean, she has such a way with words — four of Benedick’s wits running off? Brilliant!’
‘That’s so clever, Aurora!’ Sara broke in. ‘She’s rejecting the female domestic slavery that accompanies the institution of marriage!’ She looked ready to leap in the air with excitement.
‘Sara, Aurora, the Beatrice–Benedick subplot is the backbone of the play,’ Mr Peterman said. ‘I can’t just strip away half of Shakespeare’s script.’
Sara paced the stage thoughtfully. ‘You could if you were forward-thinking. After all, if the play is set in the fifties, then the sixties are just around the corner. Everything then was about rebellion. Beatrice could be a hippy —’
‘I don’t know about the tie-dye factor,’ I broke in.
‘You could wear denim flares and platforms,’ Sara suggested.
‘Oh my god! Platforms! She could be taller than Benedick! Which would dispel the weaker sex thing.’ I gave Sara a high five.
‘Hey, Mr Peterman, that means Claudio could wear the sunglasses as a whole Rebel Without a Cause look.’ Benjamin placed the sunglasses back over his eyes. ‘And we could get a Harley-Davidson —’
‘Hey, my old man has a Harley!’ Jeffrey Clark piped up. ‘And if it’s rebellion in the sixties, let’s use guns instead of swords for the fights.’
‘Mr Peterman, could I have a red spotlight on me?’ Benjamin asked. ‘I think that would be very symbolic. And red is one of my best colours.’
‘No spotlight!’ yelled Mr Peterman. His pale complexion was marred by the two red circles of frustration that had formed on his cheeks. ‘And no guns, sunglasses, Harley-Davidson or denim flares! I appreciate your suggestions, but I’ve already settled on the fifties. The early fifties.’
‘You’re just playing it safe,’ grumbled Sara.
Mr Peterman popped two headache pills. ‘Can we please get back to the scene?’
‘And I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.’ Hayden looked at Mr Peterman. ‘Why does he love none?’
‘Perhaps he’s hyperaware of the dangers involved in dating,’ I said, repeating what Hayden had said to me after my fateful date with Bradley Scott. I sent him a triumphant glance. ‘Rather wimpish, in my opinion.’
Hayden returned my gaze unflinchingly. ‘Maybe he’s waiting for The One.’
Whoa. What was with the serious tone? Perhaps Hayden was hypersensitive about his failure to find love. The failure probably caused by (as I’d told him at our non-audition) his love for himself being too much for any girlfriend to compete with.
‘And what about Beatrice?’ Hayden continued. ‘Why is she so anti-amore? Did something happen in the past to scar her?’
What was with his pointed look at me at the end of that sentence? I was all for love. Love with a carefully investigated, sure-fire Potential Prince.
Mr Peterman looked excited. ‘We’ve come to an important point here. Is there a history between Benedick and Beatrice? Were they once a couple, but one rejected the other? Is that what’s causing their antagonism? Or are their verbal battles disguising an intense attraction?’
‘Ooh,’ Jeffrey piped up. ‘An intense attraction, hey?’
I scowled. ‘Love is love and hate is hate. There’s no in-between.’
‘Well, Aurora, I think there may be in this case.’ Mr Peterman placed an
arm around Hayden’s and my shoulders. ‘My view on this is that Benedick and Beatrice are crazy about each other, but to admit so would make them creatures ruled by their hearts, not their heads. Both characters pride themselves on their logic and good sense. They are, at heart, fighting against their own feelings.’
‘But it’s unstoppable,’ Hayden said, and smiled at me. ‘Because yet again, true love wins the day.’
‘Thanks, Hayden, blow the ending,’ I replied.
They ended up together? From what I’d read of the play so far, they had slightly softened towards each other, but I’d been hoping for Beatrice to come to her senses and run many, many leagues away from Benedick.
Hayden looked surprised. ‘You haven’t read it all yet?’
‘As I told you on Friday,’ I folded my arms, ‘I’ve been busy.’
‘Friday, hey?’ Jeffrey yelled. ‘What happened on Friday?’
Even from half a room away I could tell he was eagerly rubbing his hands together at the idea of gossip.
‘My lips are sealed.’ Hayden pretended to zip them.
‘You’re meant to say, “Nothing”, not “My lips are sealed”,’ I hissed at Hayden. Trust him to start insinuating again.
Sara looked hurt. ‘You didn’t tell me about Friday.’
‘Nothing happened on Friday!’ I yelled, stamping my foot in frustration.
‘A kiss from me is nothing?’ Hayden whispered in my ear. ‘Ma chérie, I’m hurt.’
‘Hurt? You blatantly staged the whole thing to embarrass me in front of my dad.’
‘What?’ Hayden looked at me wide-eyed and stepped forward. ‘Are you insane?’
Now he was questioning my mental stability? I pushed him away.
‘Don’t play innocent with me, Hayden. I don’t want to hear any more about it.’
‘This is excellent!’ Mr Peterman beamed. He grabbed us by the shoulders, bringing us back together. ‘I love the improvisation. Now, let’s try the scene again. Aurora, you should be looking at Benedick in triumph — but with a hint of attraction.’
‘Why attraction?’ I wailed.
Mr Peterman sighed. ‘Aurora, it’s a play. You’re pretending to be attracted to each other. Work on it overnight. Next line, please.’
Pretending to be attracted to Hayden? This was going to be the longest three weeks in history.
Hayden and I spoke our last two insults, and Mr Peterman ordered everyone off the stage except Benedick and Claudio. I ran gratefully into the wings.
‘You’re so lucky,’ whispered Sara as she followed me. ‘All those scenes with Hayden!’
I glared. ‘Lucky is not the word for it. His voice alone infuriates me, let alone the fact that I have to pretend to be in love with him. I can’t believe I’m going to spend the next three weeks having him insult me in class, in my backyard, during break, all under the guise of practising.’
‘Aurora, he’s not going to do that,’ Sara said. Alex joined the scene onstage and her smile turned to a scowl. ‘I still can’t believe that Jelena was so harsh before. I’m going to give her a piece of my mind.’
‘Sara, no!’
Mr Peterman was so wrong about not needing a backstage hostilities negotiator. Look at the tension already and this was only the first day of rehearsals!
‘Quiet back there!’ yelled Mr Peterman.
‘I’m going,’ Sara said, and started to walk off.
I grabbed her by the jacket. ‘You’re not going anywhere!’
‘Aurora, this is a new jacket!’ she cried. ‘Do you know how long I had to search for it? I had to call the national stockist’s line and —’
‘Ladies, please!’ Mr Peterman called.
‘Can’t you discuss fashion backstage?’ Hayden asked, peering at us with amusement from his spot onstage.
‘Can’t you fall off the side of the earth?’ I cried, yanking at Sara’s jacket. He’d pushed me too far.
‘Anything for you, my love, but, regrettably, our planet has been discovered to be round,’ he replied.
Before I could shoot off a retort, Cassie came round the corner, fighting back tears.
‘Cass!’ I cried. I let go of Sara’s jacket and she crashed to the floor.
‘What is going on back there?’ Mr Peterman strode towards us.
‘Scott has a girlfriend,’ Cassie whispered.
CHAPTER 14
Cupid is Understaffed
In a moment I was going to start doing an ancient tribal phone dance. Why hadn’t Cass called to fill me in? Right as she uttered the words ‘Scott has a girlfriend’, Mr Peterman had marched over and sent me home to rehearse my lines.
How could anyone rehearse when her best friend had just discovered that the guy of her dreams has a previously unmentioned significant other? I’d tried all manner of protests, but Mr Peterman had wordlessly escorted me out the door.
I’d considered sneaking backstage, but with the number of detentions I’d had in the mere fortnight since school had started, I’d felt it wasn’t such a great idea. So here I was, sitting at home, unable to aid my best friend in her hour of need.
The phone finally rang. I grabbed for it.
‘Cass! What happened?’
‘Oh, nothing much, you know, I’m over it already.’ Her voice sounded pretty choked up for someone who was over it.
‘Nothing much? Cass, come on.’
‘It was too good to be true anyway. I just feel so stupid.’
‘How did you find out?’ I asked softly. ‘Did she turn up at the rehearsal, or did you see a photo?’
‘No.’ Cassie’s voice was hard. ‘He told me himself.’
‘How did you get onto the topic of girlfriends?’
‘Oh, the whole interrogation thing.’
‘You asked him if he was single?’ I was impressed. I’d never known Cassie to be so straight up.
‘No … after you left I thought I’d ask him about art some more … you know, as a whole look-how-much-we-have-in-common nudge.’
‘That’s great, Cassie.’
‘So he started telling me about his sculpture class and suggested that I come along. And I was so happy ’cause I thought he wanted to spend more time with me.’
‘And then?’
‘And then he said, “Can you give me some advice on my new piece? I’m finding it really difficult.” So I said, “Sure. Is your model —”’
‘Model?’
‘The subject that he’s sculpting. I asked if he was sitting or standing.’ Cassie’s voice trembled slightly.
‘Yeah?’ The tension was killing me.
‘And he laughed and said, “She.” And I’m like, “What?” and Scott says, “She. It’s a girl I’m sculpting.”’ Cassie let out a sigh. ‘What I can’t believe is that he mentioned it so casually. Call me crazy, but I really thought he liked me. Instead, he’s probably been laughing with model girl about the silly girl at school with a crush on him.’
‘Wait a minute,’ I said. ‘Cass. Did he actually say the word “girlfriend”?’
‘No, but to sculpt a girl, well, they’d have to be really close. I just bet they have private sculpting lessons — like in Ghost.’
I pictured Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore’s steamy scene. ‘Cass, I really think you’re getting carried away. Who says this girl is his girlfriend? It’s probably a completely professional relationship! Or she’s just a friend.’
‘What girl could be just friends with Scott? Plus, think of all the artists who got involved with the women they painted! Picasso, Rossetti —’
I broke in before she could list any more model-chasing artists. ‘Cassie, I really don’t think you should get too worked up before we find out the truth. Why don’t you ask him a bit more about her?’
‘How will I pull that off? “So … Scott, how serious are things with model girl?”’
‘Get onto the topic of sculpture again. If you’re casual about it, he might open up.’
‘It’s too embarrassing.’ Cassie
sighed. ‘I feel pathetic.’
‘You can’t just assume,’ I said. ‘Who knows, you could find out that you’ve got it all wrong and Scott’s a completely free agent. He’s hardly been acting like a man with a girlfriend when he’s around you.’
‘You think?’
‘Yes! So ask him tomorrow, okay?’
‘Alright. Thanks for listening, Aurora.’
‘Good luck!’
I fell back onto my bed in relief. Thank god it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. I’d been picturing some serious childhood-sweetheart thing between Scott and this ‘girlfriend’. Cassie was just being a worrywart. Still, Scott’s status was yet to be confirmed. Why couldn’t guys come with ID bracelets? Like cats and dogs. A little tag saying ‘This guy belongs to Amy’ or whatever. Then you could just sneak a look to see whether he was available. It’d save a lot of trauma.
The next afternoon at rehearsal Mr Peterman was wearing a flamboyant orange shirt.
‘Okay, next scene. Leonato and Antonio onstage, please,’ he called. ‘Anyone not involved in this scene, please work on your lines.’
I looked down at my script. Then I looked at the backstage area. Had Cassie managed to find out more about Scott’s availability yet? Was she exultant or sinking into despair?
I was backstage in an instant.
Cass, Jelena and Lindsay were looking over some blocking plans together.
‘Cass! Any updates on DB?’ I could hardly wait to hear her answer.
‘I asked him what he was having trouble with and he said he couldn’t capture how cute model girl was,’ Cassie said through gritted teeth. ‘That was when I told him that I had to see Jelena about canvas size and got the heck out of there.’
‘What?’ I couldn’t believe it.
Jelena frowned. ‘This model girl has managed to get in ahead of Cassie. I’m telling you, you’ve got to keep an eye on your guy. Speaking of which, how is AA going?’
Thankfully, before I could answer that potentially dangerous question, Alex himself wandered over.
‘AA? Is this guy an alcoholic or something?’
‘Possibly,’ I replied, thinking of Alex’s earlier comment about ‘good liquor’. A possible alcoholic with philandering tendencies.
How to Keep a Boy from Kissing You Page 14