Bit Players, Has-Been Actors and Other Posers: A Must-Read for Fans of Glee, High School Musical and Twilight (16 page)

“Oh. Is she going to say anything to anyone?”

“No, you know how shy she is. She didn’t even dare to tell you, so she definitely won’t dare to confront Lucey or Mr. Lord or anyone. She only told me because I was her first friend in kindergarten.”

“Wait a minute, though. If it’s true, Jocelyn and Kristina would know, and they can’t keep their mouths shut about anything.”

Adrienne shook her head. “Think about it. Lucey would never tell them. Best friends or not, they’d go ballistic if they knew, and they’d get her fired from the role so one of them could get it.”

I shook my head, still processing. “I don’t know. It sounds crazy to me.”

I thought about nothing else that night. The next day, I hadn’t decided what to do with this revelation when I found myself alone with Lucey in the locker room before PE. She was always the last one out because she insisted on touching up her make-up before going to the gym. My brain froze but my mouth didn’t care.

“Is it true?” I heard myself mumble. Unfortunately, she heard me.

LUCEY

(FLICKS HER GAZE TO SADIE FOR A NANOSECOND BEFORE RETURNING TO THE MIRROR AND HER MASCARA.)

IS WHAT TRUE?

SADIE

(VOICE SHAKING)

THAT MR. LORD PROMISED YOU THE ROLE OF BELLA BEFORE AUDITIONS WERE EVEN HELD?

LUCEY

(PUTS THE MASCARA WAND BACK IN ITS BOTTLE AND TURNS TO SADIE.)

WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT? OF COURSE IT’S TRUE. TONY AND I ARE TIGHT. HE KNEW I WAS GOING TO GIVE THE BEST AUDITION ANYWAY, SO IT REALLY DOESN’T MATTER.

(HER EYES WIDEN AND SHE BLUSHES, REALIZING SHE’S INCRIMINATED HERSELF. SADIE IS MUTE.)

ANYWAY, WHAT’S IT TO YOU? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU CAN DO ANYTHING TO CHANGE IT.

(PUTS HER MASCARA INTO HER MAKE-UP BAG AND WALKS TO HER LOCKER, BRUSHING PAST SADIE.)

SADIE

(TEARING UP.)

WHAT’S IT TO ME? YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING! FOR STARTERS, IT’S JUST WRONG.

LUCEY

WRONG, RIGHT…SOME THINGS ARE JUST MEANT TO BE, SADIE, AND I WAS MEANT TO BE BELLA.

(SADIE STARES AT LUCEY’S BACK, EYES WIDE, HANDS TIGHTENED INTO FISTS. LUCEY’S BACK STIFFENS.)

DON’T GO GETTING ANY IDEAS ABOUT TELLING ANYONE. IT WON’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE, EVEN IF ANYONE BELIEVES YOU, WHICH THEY PROBABLY WON’T.

(LUCEY TAKES SADIE’S SILENCE AS A CHALLENGE. SHE TURNS TO FACE SADIE.)

SERIOUSLY, SADIE, IF YOU SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE ABOUT THIS, I’LL START A RUMOR ABOUT YOU, LEGIT. I’LL . . . I’LL TELL PEOPLE YOU SLEPT WITH NIGEL, AND THAT YOU SLEEP AROUND WITH EVERYONE.

(NODS AS IF PLEASED WITH HER NOTION OF BLACKMAIL.)

SADIE

(NARROWS HER EYES. SPEAKS SOFTLY, WHAT LITTLE WIND SHE HAS IN HER SAILS GUSTING AWAY.)

DID YOU — DID YOU SLEEP WITH HIM – MR. LORD – TO GET THE PART?

LUCEY

DOES IT REALLY MATTER?

(SHE FAKE SMILES, SLAMS HER LOCKER SHUT AND BLOWS PAST SADIE TO THE LOCKER ROOM DOOR.)

A
LONE IN MY BEDROOM that night, the confrontation with Lucey consumed me. I re-played our conversation over and over, re-writing the script in my head until I sounded brave and smart instead of meek and confused. When I couldn’t dissect it any longer, I thought about Lucey’s threat. I could speak up. Not everyone would believe the rumors she vowed to start. Should I let it go? That fit my usual pattern. Chin up, carry on, etc. I could suffer in silence like Hester Prynne and hope to be rewarded someday fifty years from now. If I spoke up, would people believe me? It’s not like speaking up would definitely get Lucey kicked out of the show, or give me the role. But it would earn me a few enemies.

What about Mr. Lord? Would he get fired, or would it not be a big deal to the principal? Maybe this favoritism happened all the time and I just didn’t know it. We really couldn’t afford to lose Lord. The music was way more challenging this year than previous years, since we didn’t have a score to work from. Before, we basically taught ourselves the songs with Mr. Ellison providing occasional suggestions. But we needed Mr. Lord to help us figure out the harmonies and the staging of the musical numbers. And the choreographer was his friend.

I wanted to talk to my parents, even though I was pissed at them for hiding something from me. But then, my father -- who could tell the principal what was going on -- wouldn’t get involved. He’d just tell me to do what I thought was right. Mom wouldn’t hesitate to offer advice, but she was acting so weird lately – always arguing with Dad or giving him the silent treatment, and breaking down into tears over little things – I wasn’t sure I wanted her opinion. I needed to make this decision myself.

Keeping quiet seemed morally wrong. High school theatre roles should be awarded based on auditions and talent, nothing else. How was I going to sit there in rehearsals for months watching Lucey perform my role – the role I almost won anyway – and speak the lines I crafted, without screaming, “She got this part unfairly!”

What did I even want? Obviously I wanted to be Bella, but would it be fair to kick Lucey out of the production? Maybe I just wanted someone to tell the cast that I was also seriously considered for the part. That I was good enough.

I groaned out loud and rubbed my fists into my head, accepting that I had no idea what I really wanted.

Based on the state of my sheets in the morning, I turned and tossed all night. Yet something must have clicked into place while I slept because, when I woke, I knew what I was going to do. And by the time I showered and dried my hair, I was sure it was the right thing.

15: Lost in Space

“
M
R. ELLISON, can I talk to you?”

All day long, I’d felt a little sick thinking about what I had to do. By two o’clock when I went to Mr. Ellison’s room, I had a ten-pound knot of dread in my stomach.

“Of course, Miss Perkins, come in.” He motioned to the chair next to his desk, but I couldn’t sit.

“I learned something about the
Twilight
auditions that I need to talk to you about.”

He blinked, waiting.

“I heard that Mr. Lord promised the role to Lucey before she even auditioned.”

Still, he was silent. I had to ask.

“Did you know?”

Mr. Ellison stood up and leaned against his desk. He bit his lip, the first nervous gesture I’d ever seen him make. “I had my suspicions.”

The dread in my stomach dropped like a cannonball. He knew. Suddenly, I felt removed from the conversation, like I was watching the two of us on a stage. But I had to finish the performance.

SADIE

WELL, THEN, I DON’T THINK I WANT TO STAY IN THE SHOW. I MEAN, YOU TOLD ME THAT I WAS MAKING THE DECISION FOR BELLA REALLY HARD. SO I HAD A REAL CHANCE AT THE LEAD FOR ONCE. BUT LUCEY GOT IT ANYWAY, UNFAIRLY. SO, I QUIT.

MR. ELLISON

OH, SADIE, ARE YOU SURE THAT’S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT?

SADIE

(IGNORES HIS QUESTION.)

HOW DOES SHE GET AWAY WITH IT?

MR. ELLISON

I THINK THE QUESTION HERE IS, HOW DOES HE GET AWAY WITH IT. IT AMAZES ME, TOO. IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL ANY BETTER, YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE HAVING THE CDC STOLEN OUT FROM UNDER YOU.

(SADIE TRIES TO SMILE IN SYMPATHY BUT CAN ONLY FORCE A GRIMACE.)

ANYWAY, I WISH YOU’D STAY.

SADIE

I CAN’T. THIS WAS WRONG. YOU KNOW HOW HARD I’VE WORKED AND HOW LONG I’VE WAITED TO WIN A LEAD. THREE YEARS, NEVER MIND THE SHOWS I’VE DONE OUTSIDE OF CDC. NOW, TO FIND OUT I HAD THE LEAD IN MY GRASP, AND IT WAS STOLEN. I CAN’T DO IT.

MR. ELLISON

I UNDERSTAND. AND I’M SORRY. I WISH I COULD HAVE HELPED MORE.

(HE LOOKS LIKE A BEATEN MAN.)

(SADIE TURNS AWAY AND LEAVES THE CLASSROOM. ONLY WHEN SAFELY IN THE HALLWAY DO HER TEARS START.)

R
UMORS SHOT THROUGH the student body like machine gun fire through pudding: Rumors that I’d quit
Twilight
because I had an unrequited crush on Mr. Lord, or because Alex wasn’t in the show (those people obviously had no clue about real life). Rumors that Lucey and Mr. Lord were secretly dating, even though officially she was dating Nigel. That one crushed Nigel’s ego and made him act extra possessive of Lucey in front of other people. Rumors that Mr. Lord and Lucey were going to start a theatre company after she graduated called Lord & Landau – I think that one began as a joke. And, finally, rumors that Lucey got the role of Bella by sleeping with Mr. Lord.

Surprisingly, the last rumor didn’t make me happy. I decided I didn’t care what people said or thought about Lucey. I didn’t really want her to succeed as Bella. At the same time, I didn’t want her to suck either, because I still harbored some ownership pride in both CDC and
Twilight: The Musical
. What I did want, I couldn’t have, and that was to be Bella.

*

P
ICTURE A FLYER TACKED to a utility pole, fluttering in the wind, reading “Found: One wandering soul at Crudup High. Sixteen years old. No driver’s license. No focus. No passion. Muddling through.” That would be the flyer of my life.

Or maybe my life was better summed up as
Dazed and Confused: the Sequel
. Or
Lost in Space
. I was so far off my axis, I’d lost sight of it. My axis, I mean. I was floating, spinning, yet going nowhere. And while I spun aimlessly, the world whizzed around me, out of my control.

Without CDC, I was lost. It was too late in the fall season to get into a community theatre production, if I could even find an appropriate one. I cried for days, wondering why I felt so crappy if I’d done the right thing. I didn’t talk to Adrienne much, because she spent most of her free time in the school theatre trying to figure out how to stage the parking lot accident scene without a real car, and the rest of her time with her new boyfriend, Tom Cole, the quiet hottie cast as Carlisle. I left her alone, not wanting my depression to put a damper on her happiness.

The silver lining of quitting the show was not having to watch Nigel and Lucey nuzzle in rehearsal, or listen to Jocelyn drop comments about Alex to her friends, like “OMG, he’s such an amazing kisser!” and “He’s so nice. Almost too nice, if you know what I mean.” Which no one did, but they humored her.

The other silver lining (can there be two?) was having more time for driving practice. My mother even made an effort to take me on weekends, and I could corner my father right after school for thirty minutes of supervised driving. Since I seemed to be cooking dinner more lately, I even bribed him with his favorite meals a few times.

Music class was tough, because CDC continued to dominate discussions there. I managed to tune out the
Twilight
talk by listening to my iPod. One day, while Mr. Lord pretended not to notice that my iPod was on, I turned down the volume and pretended not to listen to the new song Jocelyn brought in.

I’d never heard the song, which was haunting in a country-rock sort of way. No official music video of the song existed, so I started pulling up a concert version of it on YouTube at home, singing along with Tom Petty, whose gravelly, whiny voice fit my mood.