Drama Queen

by Tamsyn Murray

  He smiled at me in a way that made my tummy go all squiggly. “I’d like that.”

  The park seemed to melt away then, leaving just me and Nathan smiling at each other. Dimly, I felt Rolo’s extendable lead vibrate in my fingers but I was too busy staring into Nathan’s bright blue eyes and wondering if it would be cheesy to hold his hand for the rest of the walk. And then—

  BAM!

  My arm was practically wrenched from its socket as the lead jerked out of my hand and Rolo took off across the grass. “Rolo, no!” I yelled.

  In the distance, I could just about make out another dog, so far away that it looked like a toy. I couldn’t tell what breed it was but Rolo had a history of picking the biggest, growliest dogs to go lolloping up to. Groaning, I started to run. “Come back here, you stupid dog! Rolo! Rolo, HEEL!”

  He didn’t listen. I don’t know how we managed it but we seem to have chosen an untrainable dog. Nathan was keeping up with me as I panted after Rolo. I knew without looking that he wouldn’t even be out of breath – he played football for the school team, this was nothing. I also knew that I looked a lot like a sweaty red tomato. But there was nothing I could do about that now – if we didn’t catch Rolo, he’d be out of the gates and onto the streets and then I’d have a real problem. Even though he is microchipped, Rolo has less road awareness than the twins.

  “ROLO, SIT DOWN!” I bellowed, but it was no use. Rolo was hearing the call of the wild, not the desperate screeching of his owner. And then something caught his nose and he slowed down to sniff.

  “Pincer movement!” Nathan whispered. “You go right and I’ll go left.”

  He peeled off to my left, circling around to the side of Rolo. I crept in the other direction, trying to get enough oxygen into my lungs without panting so loud I scared my dog. Nathan reached into his pocket. “What’s this I’ve got, Rolo? Is it cheese?”

  Rolo’s ears shot up. He twisted around to look at Nathan, his nose still stuck to whatever it was he could smell on the grass. I knew Nathan couldn’t really have cheese in his pocket – Rolo would have been all over him the moment we’d met him if he had – but it was a great distraction while I sneaked around the back.

  “What’s this, boy?” Nathan said, rustling a piece of paper. “Have I got some lovely cheddar for you?”

  Now Rolo lifted his head, his tail wagging like crazy. In a few seconds’ time, he was going to take the bait and rush over to Nathan. Taking a deep breath, I launched myself towards him, grabbing the dangling lead and bundling him to the floor. “Got you!”

  Rolo let out a yelp of surprise. “Bad dog!” I said in a voice that made his ears droop and his tail sink to the floor. “Naughty Rolo.”

  “Aw, don’t be too hard on him,” Nathan said, flopping to the grass beside Rolo. “He’ll grow out of the naughtiness eventually.”

  “When?” I asked, blowing my sticky fringe off my forehead. “By the time he’s ten, do you think?”

  Nathan laughed. “No idea.” He glanced sideways at me and my stomach did that weird flip-flop thing again. “But I think we made a pretty good team just now. I’m going to miss you when I’m away.”

  “I’m going to miss you too,” I said.

  He reached for my hand to pull me up.

  And his fingers held mine all the way home.

  Chapter Three

  What’s that thing old people say – be careful what you wish for? I could kind of see what they meant because I woke up on the morning of the first day at EDDDA, suddenly terrified I had made a MASSIVE mistake. I blame Liam for being such a pig when I brushed past him on my way to bed the night before.

  “I hear you’re so stupid you have to go to school in the summer holidays,” he taunted me.

  I looked down my nose at him in a haughty fashion, which was actually quite hard as he is much taller than me so I had to tip my head back to get the desired effect. “It’s drama academy, actually. Shame Mum and Dad can’t get a bursary to send you to personality school.”

  He clicked his fingers in what I suppose he thought was a cool way. “They don’t need to, I’m already Mr Charisma. Just ask your mate Molly.”

  There wasn’t much I could say to that – Molly is totally blinkered by LOVE GOGGLES where Liam is concerned and she refuses to hear a bad word against him. It doesn’t matter how often I remind her what a SUPER-DORK he is, she just doesn’t get it. The really annoying thing is that his band, WOLF BRETHREN, are pretty good, especially since Anjel joined as their new guitarist and toned down some of their more dubious lyrics. Not that I’d admit any of that to Liam, of course.

  “Molly is completely insane,” I told him. “She’s not a reliable witness to anything.”

  “What can I say? You’ve either got star quality or you haven’t.” He leaned closer. “And just so we’re clear, you haven’t.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I said, glaring at him. “Hey, wouldn’t it be hilarious if it turned out I’m better at performing than you?”

  He snorted. “You’ve certainly got a talent for embarrassing yourself. Remember when Mum took you to Twinkletoes dance classes and you stamped on that girl’s foot and broke her metatarsal?”

  That was a low blow – who didn’t have trouble telling their left from their right when they were five?

  “They probably won’t even let you through the door, especially if word has got around about what an EGGHEAD you are.”

  I frowned. Did he mean the time I was accidentally declared a genius? Or the time I’d rinsed my hair with raw eggs and ended up on JUICE ON JUDE’S, the school gossip website? Honestly, he makes it sound like I am a CRINGE-MAGNET when really these things just happen. “No one even remembers that.”

  Liam laughed. “Everyone remembers that. Let’s face it, Cass, you’re comedy gold.”

  He’s not wrong – Molly and Shenice think I am HILARIOUS. And then I realized there’s a difference between people laughing at a joke you’ve made and people laughing at YOU.

  “Imagine having one of your SPECIAL LITTLE MOMENTS onstage, though,” Liam went on, sounding as though he was starting to enjoy himself. “Imagine how it will feel with all those new people watching you mess everything up. Because you will. You always do eventually.”

  As much as I hate to say this, there’s an eensy-weensy chance he’s got a point – disaster does have a habit of finding me. Which is why I’m not looking forward to uncovering my inner superstar at EDDDA this morning. I don’t think she wants to be uncovered – in fact, I think she’s got stage fright.

  Is it too late to change my mind?

  Shenice was all for walking on our first day but, as the school where EDDDA is being held is about three miles away from where we live and it was raining, there was no way I was going along with that. Liam’s taunts were still buzzing in my ears, like little CONFIDENCE-CHOMPING MOSQUITOES, and the last thing I needed was to turn up looking like I’d lost a fight with a rain cloud. So we all piled into Molly’s mum’s car instead, which is one of those hybrid things – not the kind that turns into a robot, thankfully, but the kind that runs partly on petrol and partly on electricity so at least we weren’t totally dealing the planet a death blow.

  Molly’s excitement had reached fever pitch already and we hadn’t even got halfway there yet. “On a scale of one to ten, how AWESOME is this?” she squeaked.

  “Ten!” Shenice squealed back. “No – wait – ELEVEN!”

  They both looked at me and I dredged up enough enthusiasm to say, “Yay!”

  Shenice was so far into the EXCITEMENT ZONE that she completely missed my lack of squee. She turned to Molly. “What do you think it’s going to be like?”

  She shrugged. “It’s being held in a performing arts school so there’ll be a stage and rehearsal rooms and probably even dance studios. The last drama course I did had a show at the end and all the parents came to watch.”

  Shen’s eyes gleamed. “It sounds brilliant. Imagine if everyone just bursts into song whenever t
hey feel like it.”

  My feet were getting so cold they could have single-handedly stopped global warming. Molly is an amazing singer – she has lessons and everyone agrees she’s got what it takes – but I’m pretty sure singing isn’t my thing. Even when we play Singstar, there’s a little whisper in my head reminding me I’ll never sound like Molly. I hoped we wouldn’t have to sing at EDDDA unless we wanted to – Liam would probably put it online to embarrass me.

  “Not everyone will be singers,” Molly said, as though reading my mind. “Don’t forget there’s a stage-management course too.”

  The one Nathan had been going to do, I remembered, before his plans had changed. For a second, I wondered where he was – would he have landed yet? Then Mrs Papadopoulos stopped the car and glanced back at us with a cheerful smile. “We’re here, girls.”

  I thought about pretending I’d developed a mysterious allergy to performing and getting Molly’s mum to take me back home but Molly and Shenice were excited to the max and I didn’t want to crash their moods. Besides, I couldn’t bear the thought of Liam’s smugness if I gave up now, not to mention all the trouble Mum had gone to just to get me here. Gritting my teeth, I got out of the car.

  The building was so modern it made St Jude’s look like it belonged in the Stone Age. Huge glass windows towered over us into a triangular roof. Inside, I could see a lot of pale wood and even more glass. If the Egyptians had known how to make windows, this is what the pyramids would have looked like. I half expected Tutankha-wotsit to appear holding a clipboard.

  There were around forty kids waiting outside, ranging from a few years younger than me to about fourteen or fifteen. I recognized a handful from school, including – GROAN – Imani Willis, my least favourite classmate. She had a bit of a thing for Nathan and was the girl most likely to push me off the stage if she got the chance. Molly, Shenice and I huddled together under our umbrellas, trying to pick out who the stars of the future might be. Some of the girls wore neon leg warmers and had their hair scraped into tight little buns – it didn’t take EINSTEIN to work out they must be dancers. Another group seemed to be trying to recreate PITCH PERFECT in the car park, although judging from the look on Molly’s face some of the notes they were riffing were a long way from perfect. Everywhere I looked, I saw excited, confident faces. No one seemed anxious and unsure like me.

  The doors opened and we were ushered inside.

  “Surnames beginning A to M this way,” called a woman, pointing to a table at one end of the huge glass-covered entrance hall. “N to Z that way.”

  Shenice grabbed my hand and dragged me towards the first table, while Molly and her mum went to the opposite one. The queue hummed with excitement.

  “I hear Miss Skelly used to be really famous,” the girl in front of us was saying to her friend. “I think she was in PHANTOM OF THE OPERA when it first opened.”

  “Imagine that,” the other girl breathed, lifting off her black trilby hat and clasping it to her chest. “I’d do ANYTHING to be a West End star.”

  I’d do anything not to make a fool of myself but it didn’t seem like the right thing to say so I kept quiet.

  When we reached the front, a man ticked us off on his list and we were given name badges and student passes to hang around our necks. I squinted down at mine – CASSIDY BOND: FUTURE STAR. Shenice clutched at my arm and held hers up so I could see it – SHENICE COLEMAN: TOMORROW’S TALENT.

  “Did you get registered, girls?” Mrs Papadopoulos said, coming to stand next to us. “Do you have everything you need from the car? Packed lunches? Water bottles?”

  We nodded, although what I actually needed was a confidence transfusion. I’d have to hope that some of Molly’s poise rubbed off on me. The same woman who’d directed us to the tables began to wave her arms, ushering us further inside. “Once you’ve registered, please make your way into Dance Studio One for introductions. All students to DS1, please.”

  Molly’s mum smiled. “Sounds like it’s show time. Let me know what time you need to be picked up later, Molly.”

  She waved us goodbye and I thought about clinging onto her leg like a toddler on their first day at nursery, but it was much too late for that. As we followed the crowd, Shenice leaned towards Molly. “What does your student pass say?”

  She held it up, grinning. MOLLY PAPADOPOULOS - NEXT BIG THING. It was probably about right, I decided, as we filed into the dance studio. If Molly was a stick of rock she’d have STAR running through her middle.

  The dance studio was one of the most mind-melting places I’ve ever been. It was huge for a start, with a smooth wooden floor and spotlights in the ceiling. All four walls were covered by floor-to-ceiling mirrors, which made the room seem even bigger. Instead of forty or so students, there was now an enormous army of us, reflected over and over again. The air was filled with excited chatter, until we were interrupted by a booming voice.

  “Good morning,” it said, bouncing off the mirrors and into our ears like an extremely well-spoken sledgehammer. “Welcome to EDDDA, where your transformation from caterpillar to butterfly begins!”

  Chapter Four

  Everyone turned to stare as a tall, super-thin woman about the same age as my nan swept into the middle of the room. The buzz of excitement died as she peered haughtily around and it felt as though every single one of us was holding our breath.

  “My name is Miss Skelly and I am your principal.”

  Molly leaned towards Shenice and me. “THAT is how you make an entrance,” she whispered in an awed tone.

  She had a point – Miss Skelly definitely had our attention. Even though a lot of the people there DRESSED TO IMPRESS, she stood out. It wasn’t just her outfit, although that was pretty amazing – she carried an ebony-black walking cane with a huge amber globe on the top, and her curly grey hair was mostly covered by a purple turban that was twice as big as her head. No, it was her overall attitude, like she was a queen and we were – I don’t know – peasants or something. Then there was her voice, which sounded really deep and husky, like my mum did when she had a chest infection a few months ago but a lot more COMMANDING.

  To be completely honest, Miss Skelly is one of the weirdest people I’d ever seen, except that weird isn’t quite the right word. She’s ECCENTRIC, which is basically the same as BATFLAP CRAZY but for some reason everyone pretends that it’s fine. She sounds VAIR posh, too. I think she might even out-queen the Queen, except that she finished the occasional sentence with the word “daaaaaarling”. But even that wasn’t the funniest thing about Miss Skelly. No, the funniest thing was the stuff she came out with.

  “Pee. Em. Aiee,” she barked at us as we clustered around the edges of the dance studio. Tapping her cane on the polished floor, she fixed us with a piercing glare. “Positive Mental Attitude, darling. That’s what you need to succeed in the theatre.”

  She said the last word strangely, with the emphasis on the first two syllables: THE-ATE-ERR. Shenice and I exchanged a wide-eyed look but Molly was transfixed.

  “The next four weeks will be hard,” Miss Skelly went on, her eyes narrowing. “You will sweat, you will cry and you may even bleed, although we try to avoid that last one for health-and-safety reasons. And if you do not have a Pee Em Aiee, you will not survive this academy. I have no time for naysayers. I have no time for can’t-dos. I am solely interested in Pee. Oh. Oh.”

  I frowned. Wait – had Miss Skelly really just said she was only interested in…POO? Muffled giggles broke out around me and I felt Shenice grip my arm hard as I tried not to snort with laughter.

  “Positive Outcomes Only,” Miss Skelly barked and the laughter stopped instantly. “I expect nothing less than your best at all times. This is not a school for slackers – if you intend to give anything less than 110 per cent, you should leave now. Because the stage is an unforgiving mistress and a paying audience is even harder to please. But neither are as demanding as me.”

  I glanced around. One or two people were shifting uncomforta
bly and a few looked downright TERRIFIED, making me wonder if they were thinking what I was thinking – whether we could make it to the door before that vicious-looking cane could trip us up. But Molly was drinking it all in, her face shining as she stared at the principal.

  Miss Skelly’s voice softened a bit. “I promise that each and every one of you has the potential to burn brightly. But first, you must light the spark. And now I shall hand over to our director, Mr Pertwee, who will explain what the next four weeks hold.”

  There were a few sniggers at the mention of Mr Pertwee’s name. He looked reassuringly normal as he took his place beside Miss Skelly. “Hi, guys. Firstly, can I say how great it is to meet you all? I’m really looking forward to working with you. And secondly, we’re not at school so you can call me Nick.”

  Nick went on to explain how the academy would work. We started at eight-thirty every morning – cue groans and grumbles from us – and finished at five o’clock in the evening. For the first week, we’d be getting to know each other, learning how to unleash our inner performer and working through the music for a big musical production at the end of the course.

  “Told you so,” Molly mouthed and I nodded, although I couldn’t help wondering if I even had an inner performer.

  “This Friday there will be auditions for anyone who wants a speaking, singing or dancing role,” Nick went on, “and then it’s non-stop rehearsals to whip your performances into shape ready for the one-night-only show.”

  It sounded stomach-churning but judging from the excited babbling all around me, I was the only person who thought so. A couple of people seemed ready to do their audition right there and then.

  “Being in the limelight is not for everyone,” Nick said, finishing up. “For those of you who prefer to stay backstage, we’ll be looking for costume designers and props managers as well as stagehands. In fact, there’s a stage-management course running right next door which you can transfer over to at any time. They’ll be helping to produce our set for the performance.”