Authors: S. Stevens
Tags: #General, #Fiction
SADIE
YEAH. OF COURSE NOT. NEVER MIND.
AIMEE
SEE YOU MONDAY. BYE.
(THEY HANG UP, SADIE WITH A LOOK OF HORROR ON HER FACE.)
What was I thinking? Trusting my mother’s advice -- that was my first mistake. Being depressed about Alex was a contributing factor. Most of all, I think missing CDC pushed me over the edge. Those three ingredients created a toxic cocktail of bad judgment that put me in the most embarrassing situation of my life – worse than getting sick at Nick Jones’s party. I wanted to be mad at Aimee, and Alex, and especially my mother for humiliating me like this. But, in the end, I could only be mad at me.
*
W
HEN I MADE THE SUGGESTION for the fight scene song to Adrienne, I offered her an inch. She promptly took a mile, or at least a foot. She found ways to suck me back into the CDC world, completely unaware of my thwarted attempt to do the same by calling Aimee. First, she begged me to help her finish a song for the show, saying Mr. Lord was on her case because her few attempts at songs so far hadn’t been usable. He even threatened to give her an F on the project, so she said.
She’d made a great start on Avril Lavigne’s “Sk8r Boi”, but was stuck in a few places. Like the original song, our version would tell the story of a boy and girl from two different worlds. But unlike the original, ours would be a warm and fuzzy tale told to Edward by his vampire siblings as they cautioned him to stay away from the human girl.
Adrienne being Adrienne had already thought about the staging of the song and who would sing which lines. She really possessed a great sense of the theatrical. Too bad she wasn’t into singing and acting.
“Hey, maybe you could come to Yale School of Drama with me and study directing or stage management or something.”
She looked up from her sheets of paper, surprised by the change in subject.
“Yale Drama? Only if I get to stay behind the scenes, making the show happen without being in the spotlight. That’s where I’m comfortable.”
Comfortable. The perfect word for Adrienne. Comfortable to hang with, comfortable in her own skin. Unlike my pathetic attempts over the years, Adrienne never flirted with different styles or personalities. She always seemed content in her clothes, her hair, and herself. She was oblivious to trends, but still managed to dress relatively cool. Her straight hair wasn’t cut in the latest fashion but it suited her perfectly. Most of all, she went about her business not seeming to care what others thought of her. She should be my role model, not someone like Mr. Lord, who was really just a poser like so many other actors.
“Did you know you are very cool, Adrienne Black?” I said, in a burst of affection and respect.
“Me? Cool?” she snorted, then realized I was serious. “Well, cool enough, I guess.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Why exactly am I cool, Sadie?”
“Because you are so comfortable with who you are. You don’t care what anyone else says, you just do your own thing.”
Adrienne’s brow scrunched up more, as if she wasn’t sure if my comment was an actual compliment.
“Hmm.” Her brow relaxed as she tapped her pencil against her thigh. “I guess that’s mostly true, but I do care some what people think. I am sixteen, after all, and I want friends and boyfriends like anyone else. But I don’t care enough to change who I am. If someone doesn’t like me because of the way I look or the way I act, then I guess I don’t care about being friends with them.”
“Which is exactly why we need to go to Yale together. You need me to look out for you. You’ll never succeed in the theatre world with that laissez faire attitude. Professional theatre is cutthroat, and half the battle is who you know.”
Adrienne stuck out her tongue and made a puking noise. “Then how about you become a big success and bring me in on your projects? Then knowing you will be enough.” She grinned. “Now, can we work on this song so I can pass Mr. Lord’s music class? Yale Drama’s just a dream if I don’t graduate from high school.”
The song, as Adrienne envisioned it, and if Mr. Lord accepted it, would be sung in the hospital after Edward saves Bella from Tyler’s van. In the movie, Edward talks to Carlisle and Rosalie in the hallway. I agreed with Adrienne that we should add more vampires to spread the singing opportunities around. Foster owed us one for that.
Together we re-wrote the verse she was struggling with, and moved a few things around to make it work with the music.
After she got me on a
Twilight
high from working on the song, Adrienne went for her mile. “So, some of the rehearsals have been a little rough. Too bad we don’t have your input,” she said, trying to appear innocent. “Foster was saying the other day how much he misses you.”
Honestly, her acting chops were practically non-existent. I knew where she was going with this.
I’d had a lot of time to think the past three weeks. After the brief brain cramp with Aimee, I was back solidly behind my decision to quit based on what was right, even if very few people knew what I had done. On the other hand, I was still the playwright, and had every right to be part of the production process.
Adrienne took my silence as an opening for further argument. “No one else does what you do, you know. Foster has a sixth sense for what works and what doesn’t on stage, but only sometimes. I know how to put all the props and scenery and set changes together. But only you can unify the script, song and dance into one cohesive thing. Mr. Ellison kind of can, but his approach is old-fashioned. Before, it didn’t matter because we did real shows. But this one’s a challenge, Sadie. We’re trying to make something from nothing, and there are some major rough spots. We really need you. Plus it’d be good for you.”
She stopped short, realizing she’d given away her ulterior motive and possibly asked for too much.
“What about the famous Tony Lord? Isn’t he up to the task?”
“Not so far. His musical direction is great – he’s helping us write harmonies and stage the songs. And the choreographer he brought in is the best. But he doesn’t seem to get the basic premise of the story sometimes. It’s like he’s more interested in flash and pizzazz than connecting the story lines.” She looked casually out the window. “So, what do you say?”
I chewed my lip and thought. Standing up for what was right was important, but I was tired of being a walking zombie. I wanted to feel human again, and only the theatre could save me. I knew I was most alive on the stage, acting, but being in the theatre helping would be the next best thing. “Tell you what. I’ll stop by tomorrow if you think it will help. But I’m going to be in the back of the theatre where it’s dark, or in the wings with you. Do not make a big deal of this, okay?”
In fact, I was the one making a big deal of this by asking her not to. Also in fact, most kids wouldn’t even care if I showed up at rehearsal. But it was a big deal to me, and I needed to do it carefully.
Adrienne hugged me and gushed thank-you’s until I made her stop by threatening to rip up the song we’d just finished.
18: WTF
M
ONDAY WAS THE START OF THANKSGIVING week. Teachers and students alike focused on breezing through the three-day school week so we could enjoy the holiday. The whirlwind over Lucey’s pregnancy was dying down, when a cold front blew through the school, reviving the storm.
Alex was the father.
Of Lucey’s child.
Part of me died.
How could he do that? Sleep with her, and mess up his life? And hers? He really had changed. He used to have common sense, and self-restraint. Popularity seriously went to his head, and a few other body parts.
Nigel was officially out of the picture. (Within days, he took up with Jamie Kraus, a tall, blonde soccer player.) Alex walked Lucey to all her classes, sometimes with his arm slung around her protectively, her blonde head pressing against his chest. He didn’t look particularly happy, but why should he?
I’d been harboring a small hope that, one day, I would wake up and Alex and I would be magically reunited, BFFs again. That hope was now officially squashed, by a steamroller no less. My path was clear. Rather than be let down by him again, it was time to put Alex out of my mind, once and for all.
19: Back in the Saddle
O
THER THAN FOR A SCHOOL ASSEMBLY on bullying, I hadn’t stepped foot in the theatre since the day I quit three weeks ago. Even though rehearsal was in full swing when I snuck into the back seats, I ignored the activity on stage so I could get reacquainted with the place.
I absorbed the atmosphere, starting with the smells of the wooden seats and the combination of dust and spilled orange soda on the floor. The giant clock on the wall behind me ticked softly. I gazed up at the small, closed door where our lone spotlight peeked out during shows. I followed the tilt of the theatre floor and admired how the aisles formed lines drawing your attention to the main attraction -- the stage.
The theatre’s pull was palpable to people like me. Watching great entertainment gave the audience a thrill, but being a part of that production couldn’t be described. Shows and movies about the theatre, like
A Chorus Line
and
All That Jazz
, tried to explain why “the roar of the greasepaint and the smell of the crowd” were so special
.
The best I could define it, I loved theatre for the sense of belonging, and the sense of possibility.
Sitting there in the dark dredged up emotions that had coursed through me in this theatre at various points of my high school career – everything from joy and satisfaction to anticipation, affection and, more lately, anguish and betrayal. The theatre was a microcosm of life itself.
A blast of music from a boom-box connected to a speaker at the edge of the stage reminded me why I was there. Nigel, Lindsay, Foster and Ben were learning the fight scene, choreographed to “Riot”.
Adrienne was right -- the choreographer Steven, apparently an old friend of Lord’s, was fantastic. Thank God, because otherwise we never could have pulled off the vampire fight scene and dance studio fire. Steven taught the guys fake fight moves, including some that would take place behind a screen so the vampires appeared as giant, creepy shadows. Tom was working on lighting effects to cast a fiery glow over the shadows. It looked like it was going to work.
When they finished rehearsing that scene, they ran through the first several scenes, which should have been in good shape by now but weren’t. Nigel was impressive, even upstaging Lucey at times. Maybe she realized it, because she seemed irritable, picking his performance apart until even his good nature started to crumble.
Mr. Ellison and Mr. Lord squabbled over what scene to focus on in the last half hour of rehearsal. They settled on the restaurant scene after Edward saves Bella from the drunken guys, because it included a new song and dance they hadn’t worked out yet, which would start right after Edward confesses to Bella that he can’t read her mind.