Authors: Sophie McKenzie
Acting Friends (8 page)
Fifteen pairs of eyes swivelled to look at James Molloy.
He had sandy-coloured hair and a squishy, Acting Friends CS5.indd 82
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comfortable face. Underneath the flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks, I could see he looked nice. Nice, as in open and friendly.
You can’t fall in love with nice.
Mr Nichols strode off towards the school building, indicating – with another exaggerated arm movement – that we should follow.
We all scuttled after him.
James Molloy had – surprise, surprise – gravitated almost immediately to Emmi’s side.
‘Hi,’ he said hopefully, then blushed.
Emmi flashed him a big smile. ‘Hi,’ she purred.
‘I’m Emmi.’
I giggled.
James Molloy gulped. He looked as if he was desperately trying to think of something to say.
We reached the large wooden door that Mr
Nichols had just walked through. James held it open to let Emmi past, then dived after her, ahead of me.
‘We’re going to the sixth form common room,’ he said. ‘The auditions’ll be in there.’
Emmi glanced over her shoulder and cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘Will boys be watching?’ she said in a silky voice.
She was really turning it on, but I could tell it was all for effect. Emmi liked to know that she could Acting Friends CS5.indd 83
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have any boy she wanted, but I’d never seen her bothered about any of them. Any other girl would have been labelled a slag, but Emmi somehow got away with it.
Poor James Molloy’s face was now the colour of a tomato.
‘Er . . . no,’ he stammered. ‘That is, not until the second round. Mr Nichols asked for people with main parts to stay after school to read with some of the girls when he’s heard you all.’
‘Ah . . .’ Emmi said knowingly.
God, that meant having to do bits of the play with boys later. I glanced at Emmi. How come she wasn’t in the slightest bit nervous about that?
‘So the boys’ parts are already cast?’ Grace asked timidly.
Grace is my other really good friend. She’s completely different from Emmi: shy and quiet . . .
and she’s been going out with the same guy for, like, forever.
James nodded, then led us along a series of chilly, rather rundown corridors, into a common room, complete with a pool table, a row of lockers and some bright red sofas.
‘Please take off your coats and make yourselves comfortable.’ Mr Nichols’ booming voice resonated around its bare walls
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‘Sixth form common room,’ James announced unnecessarily, staring at a patch of skin a few centimetres to the left of Emmi’s nose.
Emmi nodded vaguely and wandered across the room. I turned to James.
‘What part are you playing?’ I said.
‘Mercutio.’ He blushed. ‘Romeo’s best friend.
Which is cool, because the guy playing Romeo
is
my best friend.’
His eyes drifted sideways to where Emmi was self-consciously twisting her long hair in her hand. I watched his gaze flickering over Emmi’s tall, slim body. She always seemed to manage to have her skirt a few centimetres higher than everyone else.
She also wore her sweater tighter and her blouse unbuttoned further. When she walked she wiggled her bum and flashed off legs that went up to her armpits.
My heart sank. No way was I getting the part of Juliet instead of her. Not unless the guy playing Romeo was really short and Mr Nichols was practically blind.
I knew I should have been pleased for Emmi, but I wanted this so badly and I didn’t stand a chance.
‘Emmi’s my best friend,’ I said confidingly.
James Molloy looked down at me. For a second I Acting Friends CS5.indd 85
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saw myself through his eyes: I was short. I was dumpy. I was –
God
, I was like him. Squishy and comfortable.
At that point two other girls skittered over in fits of giggles and asked James to show them where the toilets were.
They all disappeared and I went to find Emmi and Grace.
‘I’m so nervous,’ Grace squeaked.
‘For God’s sake, Grace,’ Emmi drawled. ‘All you’re doing is reciting a short poem. The worst that can happen is you’ll end up a townsperson of Verona.’
Grace looked a little deflated. I don’t think Emmi means it, but sometimes she can sound a bit harsh.
After all, Grace was mostly here to support me and Emmi. Sure, she was doing drama GCSE, but performing wasn’t really her thing.
I smiled at her. ‘You’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘You look really pretty.’
Grace smiled gratefully back at me. ‘You look lovely too, Riv. I wish I had a figure like yours.’ She sighed, then ran her fingers through her soft, strawberry blonde waves. ‘And your hair really works the way you’ve got it tied back like that.
You’re so lucky it’s so thick.’
Yeah, right.
She was just being polite. Did I mention Acting Friends CS5.indd 86
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I have horrible frizzy hair and as for my body . . .
well, maybe I’d look okay if I could lose half a stone . . . but however hard I tried, the weight never came off.
‘Er . . . thanks, Grace.’
Emmi yawned. ‘I don’t know what you’re getting anxious about,’ she said to Grace. ‘It’ll be over soon, then you can phone Darren and tell him all about it.’
‘Darren said he didn’t like the idea of me being in a play at a boys’ school,’ Grace said.
Emmi rolled her eyes. ‘Well, that’s his problem, isn’t it?’
I squeezed Grace’s hand sympathetically, but the truth was I had no idea what Grace saw in Darren.
He was geeky and spotty – while Grace was sweetly pretty, with her wide blue eyes and perfect skin.
Plus, I was pretty sure he didn’t have a passionate bone in his body. Mind you, looking at Grace’s pale, anxious face, I wasn’t sure she did either.
The thought depressed me. It seemed entirely possible Grace would go through her whole life never feeling an overwhelming, die-for-you love.
Lots of people probably didn’t.
Not me, though. Please. Not me.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the lines I’d picked for my audition.
The room fell silent. Mr Nichols cleared his throat.
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‘I think we’ll start with a simple visualisation,’ he said. ‘Please, everyone, find a space to stand, then close your eyes and imagine a busy marketplace in old Verona. Observe the bustle, the townspeople in their long gowns, all going about their business.
Take time to smell the freshly baked bread, to squeeze the soft fruits on the stalls, to feel the warm sun on your back . . .’ He droned on.
I sighed. This was exactly the sort of rubbish Ms Yates was into. I let my mind drift back to my ideal guy.
A minute or two later and Mr Nichols made us visualise walking into the centre of the marketplace and sitting in a circle on the ground.
‘Now if you’d all open your eyes and find a seat . . . we’ll start the auditions by going round the room,’ he said.
There was a scramble for seats. I found myself perched on the arm of a sofa, next to Emmi.
‘Okay, let’s get going,’ Mr Nichols said, suddenly brisk and businesslike. ‘Please give your name before you begin.’ He looked over to the door.
‘James, tell the boys we’ll be up in about half an hour. And shut the door on your way out.’
With a swift glance at Emmi’s elegantly crossed legs, James backed out of the door. We all looked at Mr Nichols.
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‘A volunteer to start?’ he said.
Everyone looked at their laps. Then I felt Emmi raise her hand beside me. ‘I don’t mind going first,’
she said.
She sashayed over to the open space in the middle of the room. She faced Mr Nichols and smiled – a coy, shy smile. God, she hadn’t even started and she was already acting.
Ms Yates nodded approvingly. She, like most of our teachers, loved Emmi because she was always prepared to speak out in class and because she was polite – at least to the teachers’ faces.
She did a speech from the play – the beginning of the scene where Juliet is on her balcony and Romeo sneaks over to talk to her. She was good . . . She moved around naturally, and put loads of expression into her voice. But for all that, she never really sounded like she meant anything she was saying. I watched Mr Nichols. He was concentrating intently on her, his eyes following her as she moved. At the end she looked up at him from under her eyelashes.
He nodded and smiled at Ms Yates.
Great.
After that we went clockwise round the room.
Grace was next. Unlike Emmi she didn’t move into the middle of the room. Instead, she stood where she was and recited her poem in a loud, clear voice.
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She was actually quite good. A bit stiff maybe, but she put loads of expression into what she was saying and at least she remembered all the words. Asha Watkins forgot her poem, while Maisie Holtwood refused to even start. Two more girls just stood there, staring shyly at the carpet as they did a bit from the play.
On and on it went. After twenty minutes Mr Nichols was looking bored, his chin propped in his hands. A sly smile was sneaking across Emmi’s lips.
So far there was no one to touch her.
Thanks to the order we were sitting in, my audition was going to be last. I tried not to let the wait prey on my nerves.
A few more girls gave okay-ish performances.
Daisy Walker, a tall girl with high cheekbones and intense dark eyes, was good. She moved about a bit, using her hands expressively like Emmi had done.
I felt more and more nervous. The time dragged and dragged. Then suddenly it speeded up and Mr Nichols’ eyes were on mine – ‘Yes?’ he said.
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SOPHIE McKENZIE
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SOPHIE McKENZIE
From the award-winning author of bestsellers,
Girl, Missing
and
Sister, Missing
When River auditions for a part in an
inter-school performance of Romeo and Juliet, When River auditions for a part in an
she finds herself smitten by Flynn, the boy playing Romeo.
inter-school performance of Romeo and Juliet, she River believes in romantic love, and she
finds herself falling for Flynn, the boy playing Romeo.
can’t wait to experience it. But Flynn comes River believes in romantic love, and she can’t wait to from a damaged family – is he even capable experience it. But does Flynn see things the same way?
of giving River what she wants? The path
The path of true love never did run smooth . . .
of true love never did run smooth . . .
ISBN 978-0-85707-099-9 (PB)
ISBN 978-0-85707-100-2 (eBook)
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