by Robin Talley
At least, I’m pretty sure that was a joke.
My timer buzzes. “Got to go.”
“Same.” He scrunches up his face. “We’re doing ‘Red and Black’ next.”
That’s his big solo. I grin. “You’re going to be amazing. I can’t wait until we block that scene. It’ll be all you strutting around looking fanatical and cocky.”
He cracks a smile, finally. “I’ve got to admit, that sounds good.”
We have to go in opposite directions, so we wave before I jog back toward the auditorium. When I get there, Ms. Marcus is onstage with Katelyn, Beth, and a couple of the other girls who are playing the featured sex workers.
“We need to hold for another five or so, Mel,” Ms. Marcus calls when she sees me come into the house. “Doing some quick character work before we get back into the scene.”
“Okay.” I take my seat at the front-row table, trying to think of what I can do with an extra five minutes. I should probably go over my blocking notes from the first half of rehearsal and see if I need to clean anything up before I share it with Ms. Marcus at the end of the day.
“Sorry about earlier.” I recognize Odile’s soft voice in my ear and forget all about my blocking notes. “I think it was a little awkward.”
“Oh, no, no, it’s okay.” I turn around, grinning like a doofus. She’s slipped into the seat right next to mine, and it’s making me feel strangely warm and gleeful. As if being around Odile turns me into a different person entirely. “I was just confused because I’d clearly stumbled into some sub-territory of actor land that I’ll never understand.”
Odile covers her mouth with her hand like she’s trying not to laugh, and I wonder, too late, if that was unprofessional of me to say. For a second I almost forgot she was an actor. I guess I’ve started thinking of her as just plain Odile.
“Sorry.” I try to backpedal. “For some reason it’s impossible for me to talk to you without pouring out every thought that’s in my head. It’s highly inconvenient.”
Oh my God, did I seriously just say that out loud, too?
Odile tilts her head, giving me that fraction of a smile again.
“Like . . . right now.” Well, I’ve already dug myself into this ditch. Might as well stick around. “Every word I say seems to be getting progressively worse. I’m incapable of shutting up whenever you’re within three feet.”
“I feel like this is something I should take advantage of.” She rubs her hands together, and I burst out laughing.
Mischievousness. It’s such an un-ingenue-like trait. Or maybe I just need to recalibrate my expectations of this particular ingenue.
Except for the part where I’m trying to avoid her.
Come to think of it, though, maybe it’s okay this once. The rest of the crew isn’t here to see us talking.
But it still feels like I’m betraying them. And what if flirting with Odile really is dangerous? What if someone else gets hurt, like Julio did?
Except . . . Julio got hurt because the guys were being immature and I didn’t make them stop in time. Not everything has to be about the curse.
I turn to smile at her. “Now I’m getting nervous.”
“Hmm, what secrets do I want to extract from an unwitting Melody McIntyre . . .” Odile smiles, full and real, and I grin back at her. “There actually is one thing I want to know. We started talking about it at your house, but we didn’t get very far. If you’d rather keep it to yourself, though, just give me some kind of hand signal and I’ll back away before you start spilling.”
I already know I’ll answer any question she asks. Mainly because I don’t want her to back away. “Totally. What?”
“How many people in the performing arts department have you dated at some point in the past?”
“I told you, it’s not that many.” I blush, then try to think. “You already know about Dom. Also, Rachel. I’m, uh, guessing you heard that story.”
She nods, flushing ever so slightly. “It’s the first one I heard when I asked around about you.”
She asked around about me? My blush is only getting deeper. “Anyway, also, you probably heard I went out with Tyler, too. And Hannah and Tom usually play in the pit orchestra, so they’ll probably be here starting with the sitzprobe, but I don’t think that’s enough to qualify them as actually being in the performing arts department, at least not at this exact moment, so—”
“Wait.” Odile holds up her hands. “I didn’t hear about Tyler. Are you talking about Tyler Zumbrun? The guy who got written up in the New York Times for winning a bunch of national graphic design awards when he was a freshman and only joined the theater tech crew because he liked listening to the Be More Chill cast recording? He’s your ex, too?”
“Er . . . yeah.” It’s kind of neat that Odile knows who’s who among the crew. Most actors can barely tell us apart. “Technically, he’s my ex twice. We were a thing for a while and we broke up, but later we got back together. And broke up again, obviously.”
“You should draw me a chart so I can keep track.” She eyes my binder. “Like that blocking diagram.”
Of course Odile knows a blocking diagram when she sees one. My other friends, even on crew, go cross-eyed when they see my paperwork. “You want me to draw a blocking diagram of my exes?”
“Yes! It would help me keep the list in my head.”
I want to ask why she wants to have a list of my exes in her head. Instead I pull a piece of scratch paper out of my binder—the blank side of an old flyer, because trees are friends to all—and sketch an empty rectangle with my ruler.
“I’ll have myself enter at upstage right.” I draw an M with a circle around it and label it as position number one. “Oops, wait, I forgot to write out the key first. Hang on.”
Across the top of the page, I start writing my exes’ names with the first letter marked in a bubble. I quickly realize I’ve gone out with two people whose names start with T, so I add a second letter to their bubbles. The list is longer than I realized it would be, but so far Odile’s just watching me in silence.
“So starting with ninth grade, Isabelle was my first real significant other.” I add a bubble for Isabelle, I, and a new bubble for myself above it, then draw a line showing myself moving from my entrance at upstage right to stand behind Isabelle at position number two. Since upstage is at the top and downstage is at the bottom, my bubble looks like it’s actually on top of Isabelle’s bubble, which is mildly awkward, but it’s too late to change that. “She’s not a theater person, though. She was part of my jock phase, freshman year. Dom was after that, in the spring, during Fiddler—he was part of my jock phase too, now that I’m thinking about it—and after that was Jess. You know Jess Cushwa, right? Used to be on the debate team? They graduated last year. But I went to homecoming with them when I was a sophomore.”
Odile nods, her eyebrows knitting together. “Okay. I’m trying to follow. We’re up to, what, fall of last year?”
“Yeah, during Steel Magnolias. Actually, maybe I should add a separate key at the bottom for the shows we were doing. That’s how I keep track of everything in my head anyway. I’ll put the shows in boxes instead of circles, with lowercase letters so it’s easy to follow.”
Odile nods again and glances up at where Ms. Marcus is still talking to a few of the actors onstage. Everyone else is milling around, talking or reading over their scripts.
I erase a line I drew at a bad angle and start over. Odile looks down at the paper quizzically. “Are you stalling because you don’t want to tell me who the rest of your exes are?”
“No!” I can tell she’s teasing, but I draw faster anyway. “You only want people from school on this, right? Because I don’t know if I have space for everyone from theater camp.”
“Wait, how many . . .” Odile lifts a finger and softly touches her bottom lip as she trails off. Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned camp. “Actually, never mind.”
The diagram winds up being a little awkward, be
cause I have to convey that I went out with Tyler twice, so I have to draw a movement arrow for him, too. And there are a couple of people I went out with when I wasn’t doing shows, so they don’t have any boxes by their circles, which makes the whole thing frustratingly asymmetrical. When I’m done, my paper looks like this:
Odile tucks her hair behind her ear. “Wow, that’s . . . wow. Okay.”
Yeah. Now that I’m looking at it, I’ve moved around this diagram a lot.
I should probably play it cool, but once again all the rules I usually try so hard to follow fly away in Odile’s presence and my mouth spews out exactly what I’m thinking. “Do you think I’m a slut or something?”
“What? No!” She sits up straight, her eyes flashing. “I’m so sorry if I made you think that. I hate that word. But no, I was just thinking about how I’m a lot less popular than you.”
“Um, that’s the opposite of true. You’re legitimately famous. You’re the most popular person in the entire school.”
Her smile fades, and I suddenly remember how just a couple of days ago she was telling me about how isolated she feels. I swallow, trying to think of something else I can say to make up for it. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m a virgin.”
Oh my God, I really need to work on my self-control. I clap my hands over my face and cringe into my seat.
But Odile only laughs. “Saving yourself for marriage?”
I look up and laugh too. It feels good to let out the tension. “Er, no. Just for, you know. True love or whatever.”
I’m blushing again. Hard.
“Um.” I scrunch my shoulders up around my ears, trying to play this off like it’s no big deal. I need to change the subject, fast. “I guess this is now extremely obvious, but I meant what I said about how I can’t shut up around you. Anyway, fair’s fair—I just revealed a bunch of embarrassing stuff. Now it’s your turn.”
“Fair is fair, huh?” she says, to the tune of the witch’s rap from Into the Woods.
“Now you’re the one stalling.” I straighten up in my seat, giggling.
God, I still can’t believe being around this girl makes me giggle. It doesn’t bother me as much as it did last time, though. Especially when she tucks a curl behind her ear and smiles at me.
“There’s too much embarrassing stuff about me.” She laughs. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve probably never done anything embarrassing in your entire life.”
“I wish. Okay, how about this—the first time I got a phone call from my agent, I was so nervous I almost threw up.”
“Wow, you have a lot of experience with vomit, don’t you?”
She laughs again. “Apparently.”
“I’m surprised you were nervous, though. When I heard you on the phone in the bathroom that one time, you sounded like the most confident person ever.”
“Yeah, well . . .” She turns back to face forward. Ms. Marcus is talking to Kadie by the wing and David is stage center with Beth, spinning his pirate hat and watching Odile and me. Hmm. “I have different voices I use for different occasions. Sometimes it feels like I’m different people for different occasions.”
That makes me forget all about David. “What do you mean, different people?”
“It’s something I started doing when I was younger.” Her smile is gone now. “When I talk to people in the business, I’m bright and airy. When I talk to my parents, I always make it sound as though I’ve got everything under control, even when I have no idea what I’m doing. And at school, I never know what to do, so I usually don’t do anything at all.”
That sounds exhausting. “So . . . which mode are you using now?”
“None of them.” She meets my gaze and holds it. “For some reason, whenever I’m with you, I forget to put on any disguise at all.”
“All right, let’s get started,” Ms. Marcus calls out. “Actors, stage center, please.”
Odile gives me one last soft smile, then climbs out of her seat and heads for the stage. I try to smile back, but I’m pretty sure it comes out as a generically terrified facial wobble.
I want to drop my face into my hands, but I can’t do that. Not in front of half the cast.
But . . . oh, shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
I thought I was safe.
I thought I knew how I felt about Odile. I thought I was in control of what happened next. I thought there was no way in hell I was actually in danger of falling for her.
Suddenly, I’m not so sure I’ve ever been in control of anything.
From: Melody McIntyre
To: All directors and crew heads
Date: Monday, 2/24, 6:45 p.m.
Subject: Rehearsal report
Today’s rehearsal:
3:01 p.m. to 3:45 p.m.: Music rehearsal, “Stars”
3:01 p.m. to 3:42 p.m.: Blocking rehearsal, “At the End of the Day”
3:45 p.m. to 3:52 p.m.: Break
3:53 p.m. to 4:45 p.m.: Blocking rehearsal, “Prologue”
4:46 p.m. to 5:42 p.m.: Blocking rehearsal, “The Runaway Cart”
Tomorrow’s schedule:
3:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. (later if needed): Blocking rehearsal, “Red and Black / Do You Hear the People Sing?”; music rehearsal, “Prologue” (Valjean only)
Actor report:
Absent: Taylor (excused)
Late: Julio (5 minutes—excused), Nick (3 minutes), Aaron (3 minutes), Noah (2 minutes)
Principals now off-book include Beth, Alejandra, David, and Odile. All other principals and most ensemble members are still on-book.
We reminded all actors that the off-book deadline is March 15.
Set updates:
The crew got through a LOT of construction this weekend (THANK YOU, EVERYONE!!!).
The set team will be testing the preliminary turntable design tomorrow. NO ACTORS are allowed in the auditorium until we give the all clear.
Costume updates:
The team had an excellent thrift-shop haul and has made solid progress on altering pieces and adding trim. However, there’s still a LOT of work ahead of us.
We’re seeking parents and others who can follow a simple pattern to help make aprons for the factory scene (period-appropriate aprons are impossible to find in thrift stores). The work can be done at home and we’ll provide all materials. If anyone has leads on people who might be able to help, contact Rachel.
Lighting and sound updates:
All lighting and sound crew members have been temporarily reassigned to help with sets and costumes while we wait for the gobos we ordered to come in.
Publicity update:
BIG NEWS: Tyler arranged for us to do a flash mob performance of “One Day More” at the pep rally before opening night (the same Friday as the sitzprobe, so it will be a busy day). This should hopefully generate a LOT of ticket sales and if we’re lucky, maybe even a viral video.
Thank you, everyone! —Mel
—Also stored on BHS performing arts department shared drive.
Created by: Melody McIntyre, stage manager, class of 2021
Viewable to: Directors and crew heads
Editable by: Current SM ONLY
Scene 10—The McIntyre-Perez House
DAYS UNTIL SPRING MUSICAL OPENS: 67
“Why do you need muskets anyway?” Pops asks, licking his fingers. “Can’t you get by with swords and a few cannon sound effects?”
“Have you seen this show?” Will sighs and stirs his pan of carrots. “There’s more onstage gunfire than I prefer to think about. One of the many reasons I lobbied against doing Les Mis.”
“But your veto was overridden, and now we’re all suffering.” I slump across the counter in feigned exhaustion. “It’s going to take me all week to recover from that rehearsal today. We spent an hour moving different factory workers from one end of the stage to the other. And then another hour after that watching Nick pretend to lift an invisible cart while Kyle flailed under it.”
>
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t love every second of blocking, Mel.” Odile laughs. She’s perched on a stool on the opposite side of the counter, sipping a glass of seltzer.
Jasmin and Dom both raise their eyebrows at me from behind her. They’ve been teaming up like that a lot tonight. I can only assume their goal is to make me as self-conscious as possible about the weirdness between Odile and me. As if I’m not self-conscious about it enough already.
I’ve tried to avoid her since that flirty “Lovely Ladies” rehearsal, but it’s been hard. Largely because avoiding her is the last thing in the world I actually want to do. The good news is, our schedule has been too intense for me to see much of anyone, and the teachers have been keeping our breaks short so we can get through as much material as possible. So I don’t think she’s noticed me acting weird. At least, I hope she hasn’t.
I know I’m not supposed to like her, but . . . she’s just so darn likable.
There was no getting out of this supremely awkward family dinner, though. If I step one toe out of line, Jasmin will figure out exactly what’s going on, if she hasn’t already. And Dom already knew exactly how much I liked Odile even before I did.
“Okay . . .” I huff, trying not to look at her. It’s easier to keep from getting overwhelmed if I avoid eye contact. “That’s a kind of valid point.”
Nick came back today for his first rehearsal since his doctor-mandated week of silence. Ms. Marcus wanted to take things easy on him, so we scheduled songs where he only has short solos and focused on blocking instead of singing. Even so, it was obvious that his voice isn’t much better than it was in that first rehearsal. He cracked on the high notes and the low notes, and he still doesn’t seem to be bothering with the vocal warm-ups all the actors are supposed to do. When the rehearsal ended, Ms. Qiao took him off for a private talking-to while Ms. Marcus and I redid the week’s schedule, again.
The worst part is, Nick seems to think his voice problems are everybody else’s fault. Today he yelled at Imani for “distracting” him when he was trying to sing, even though she was in character, acting, exactly like she was supposed to. Ms. Marcus gave him a private talking-to after that, too.