Bit Players, Has-Been Actors and Other Posers: A Must-Read for Fans of Glee, High School Musical and Twilight (20 page)

The song was brilliant, and I meant that in the American sense of genius, not like when Nigel used it for everything from the weather to ice cream. Mr. Lord had the restaurant patrons and the waitress sing the low mum mums in the background, which gave a muted, tribal resonance to the song, and Steven had worked out a funky, crump-like spastic dance for the verses. For the chorus, he switched into a more lyrical style in keeping with the melody.

Mr. Ellison took issue with the lines “he gets me hot” and “she gets me hot”, but Lord told him to get with the times and that he’d clear it with the principal.

The scene included some of the dialogue I’d written. It was bittersweet hearing my words spoken on stage. My pride that the lines worked as they were supposed to was tinged with a little sadness that the words were no longer all mine. Maybe that’s how parents feel when their kid goes off to college. More important, the new words flowed as naturally as the lines pulled from the screenplay, so I knew I’d done okay.

When rehearsal ended, the stage cleared out quickly except for Adrienne and two other stage crew members. I waited a minute for the cast to scatter and sauntered backstage, where I ducked into a dark corner behind the piano in the stage right wing. Adrienne ignored my slinking.

“A few things,” I said to her instead of hello. “First, the fight scene looks like it’s going to work, so that’s huge.” She hung on my every word. “But that can’t be the final number.”

“Right,” Adrienne interjected, “because there’s still the prom scene, when Bella and Edward have that important talk and there’s the tension of the kiss – will he bite her or not.”

I nodded. “But that’s not a strong enough ending for a musical either. We need a real crowd-pleaser.”

“Okay,” Adrienne agreed. “So what do we do?”

“Simple. We add a song and dance number for all the kids at the prom. An upbeat, feel-good number. Remember at the end of
Ella Enchanted
when they randomly break into ‘Don’t Go Breakinv My Heart’? Kind of like that.”

“Sadie, that would be an awesome song to do!”

“Yeahhh, but it’s been done. At least when we re-create ‘Don’t Stop Believing’ the
Glee
way, the context will be different. Let’s try to think of something more original.”

“Okay. What else?”

I played with the curtain ropes. I bet Yale School of Drama had automated curtains.

“The placement of ‘At Seventeen’ is wrong.”

“After the restaurant scene? Why? Edward’s all tormented about his feelings for Bella then.”

“He is, but there’s a line in the song about him needing to go away. By the restaurant scene, he’s already decided he can’t stay away from Bella. Plus, it would be more powerful to show his torment earlier in the play. It makes more sense if he sings it in the biology lab, after he realizes he’s drawn to her, but he also wants to run away.”

“I’m with you. Okay. I can drum up support for a fun all-cast song at the end with no problem. But you’re going to have to talk to the Lord about moving ‘At Seventeen’.”

The kids had taken to calling Mr. Lord “milord” or “the Lord” as sarcastic commentary on his considerable ego.

“Me? Why me?”

“Because (a) he won’t listen to any of the rest of us. He’s made it very clear that he’s the director – he says that right in front of Mr. Ellison, who doesn’t even bother correcting him anymore – and only milord decides what goes where. And (b), he has a lot of respect for you.” My jaw dropped. “He’s always saying nice things about your script, and he’s even pushed Lucey a few times by telling her that maybe Bella should have been given to you, but I probably shouldn’t bring that up…” Her voice trailed off.

I ignored her final comment and focused on the others. “Hm. Okay, I’ll try to talk to him tomorrow.”

*

W
HEN I POKED MY HEAD INTO Mr. Lord’s room during lunch break the next day, two senior groupies in his trance showed no sign of leaving.

I tried again after school. He was alone, and seemed genuinely pleased to see me, although he was an experienced actor, I reminded myself. I presented my reasons for shifting “At Seventeen” to a different spot in the script, and he agreed without a fuss. My mission accomplished, I turned to go.

“Sadie, wait. I want to talk to you.” I turned back, hugging my books to my chest. “I want you to know that you would have been a great Bella.” An ache formed instantly behind my crossed arms. “Lucey was just that little bit better, but that’s show biz. You know that.” I  nodded, wondering dully if I should confront him with what I knew but was trying to forget.

“You show considerable talent as a singer and actress, but possibly even more so as a playwright. I hope you stick with that.” I nodded again, prickles of hope sticking into the big ache in my chest. “We should stick together, I think. I could be a mentor of sorts, and guide you along your path. Next year, when you apply to colleges, I’d be happy to provide glowing recommendations for you. That’s if I’m still here, of course.”

“Are you leaving already? Oh no, milord--” I accidentally used his nickname as my words tumbled over each over but he didn’t seem to notice, “you can’t leave. You just got here. And we need you! You’re the best drama coach we’ve ever had.” Wow, I was a traitor. Just like that, I’d tossed Mr. Ellison aside. But now that I thought about it, Mr. Lord did bring more opportunity to CDC than Mr. Ellison could, what with his experience and contacts. It wasn’t Ellison’s fault.

“Don’t worry, Sadie, I won’t leave on a whim.” He smiled warmly and stepped closer. “But I’ve been asked to audition next month for a touring production of
Wicked
, and I’ve always wanted to play Fiyero.”

Awed, I was momentarily speechless. He took another step forward, picked up a strand of my hair and studied it.

“Your hair is the most incredible color. Gold, auburn, a strand or two of bombshell blonde, some regular old brown – it’s all in there.” He leaned toward my hair. Unsure if he meant to smell it, kiss it, or kiss me, I jerked back, bumping into his desk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. But your hair is mesmerizing. No offense taken?”

I nodded dumbly, whirled around and strode out of his room, tossing over my shoulder, “Thanks for the help and suggestions, and good luck with
Wicked
,” my voice rising unusually high.

*

O
N THANKSGIVING, Jesse and I were starting to watch our favorite YouTube videos when my mother insisted I deliver a bouquet of flowers to Alex’s house. Most years, Mrs. Holman and Alex came over for dessert after Thanksgiving dinner, but they declined this year. I think the flowers were my mother’s way of ensuring Mrs. Holman didn’t harbor a grudge because the children weren’t getting along.

I wondered what Mrs. Holman thought about Alex getting Lucey pregnant. My father must have known, and he must have told Mom, but neither of them had brought it up to me, which was weird but welcome.

Jesse, thank God, said he would go next door with me. We didn’t even go inside. Mrs. Holman took the flowers at the door and, acting normally, asked if we wanted to come in to visit. I could see Alex sitting on the couch watching football, ignoring us. It was our turn to decline.

Jesse, in one of those astute big-brother moments, steered me away from our house and down the street.

“What’s going on with you and Alex?”

I stared at my feet moving one after the other. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” To keep him from pressing on the subject, I blurted out, “I had a boyfriend, though, for a few weeks in September.” I knew it was more like days than weeks, but in my mind it was weeks.

“Yeah? Why only a few weeks?”

“Um, I’m not positive, but I think it was because another girl was more interested in playing Zac Efron and Vanessa Hudgens than I was.”

He looked at me in confusion. Of course, my teen celebrity references were lost on him.

“They’re a couple of famous actors who live together.”

“Ohhh. And sleep together? Is that what you’re getting at?”

“Bingo,” I tossed out, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Hmm. Well, good, I’m glad you listened to my advice, about being careful with the guys.”

“Yeah, but careful doesn’t get you a boyfriend.”

He stopped walking and waited until I turned to face his stare.

“Yes, it does. If it’s the right guy. Sadie, you’re only sixteen. You have plenty of time to fool around later. Don’t rush into anything and ruin what should be a great thing. Sex means a lot more when you’re in love, so don’t spoil it with a lot of cheap sex first. Believe me.”

My turn to stare. “Jess, is there something you want to tell me?”

He started walking again. “Just that I met this really great girl a while ago, and we’ve been dating, and it makes me wish I hadn’t done some of the things I’d done before.”

This was weird territory, but he was my brother after all. “Okay, like what?”

“Let me put it this way. College is like this giant playground, okay? And everybody’s experimenting and let’s just say there’s plenty of action if you want it.”

“And you wanted it?”

He elbowed me. “I am a guy, right? And remember what I told you about guys. Anyway, I’m just saying, sex should be special, so take your time. And it’s fun, too, by the way.”

I elbowed him back, pushing him off balance. “Ew, too much information, Jesse.” We turned toward home.

“So where is your former boyfriend now, anyway?”

“Nigel? He’s had two girlfriends since me – Lucey Landau and Jamie Kraus, remember them?”

He nodded.

“Lucey’s pregnant,” I blurted, but stopped short of telling him Alex was the father.

Jesse made a tch noise with his tongue. “Sounds like she could have used my advice about not doing two stupid things at once. Now aren’t you glad that’s not you?”

I groaned rather than answer, and we walked back to the house in silence.

20: Hell Breaks Loose

A
FTER THE THANKSGIVING break,
Twilight: The Musical
consumed my life. Buoyed by Mr. Lord’s positive comments, and unable to stay away after sneaking into a few rehearsals, I asked Mr. Ellison if I could help with the show. He and Mr. Lord, Adrienne, Foster and others, if not the entire cast, welcomed me back with open arms. I didn’t have a title – I was sort of an assistant director – but for once I didn’t care.

The dancing was all there, or would be with a few weeks more practice, which was all we had. Nigel was a natural dancer, no surprise there. Most people knew their lines, and the acting was as good as it was going to get -- not even the Lord could work magic with Ben’s wooden acting. And the songs were coming along.

But Adrienne was right. Rough spots punctuated the show, interrupting the rhythm big time. We worked out transitions between scenes, and between dialogue and songs. They weren’t starting the music soon enough in some cases, leaving the actors standing around looking awkward while they waited to start singing, so we worked out better music cues.

The whole Port Angeles section – three scenes encompassing the dress shop, the bookstore, the streets, and the restaurant – was choppy. It was tough to stage as opposed to filming because we had limited space to work with, and the frequent opening and closing of the curtain was messing with the flow. After consulting with the directors and Adrienne, I divided the stage into sections so the action could move from one scene to the next without the curtain opening and closing. What we lost in space by mushing the scenes together on the stage, we gained in tighter production. Forty-five minutes and about ten tries later, the new approach was working.

The most important contribution I made, though, after watching one complete run-through, was convincing everyone to move the show back a week. No way we would be ready for December 10. We’d lost so much time in the beginning, deciding what show to do and stopping temporarily due to the budget cuts. Show dates were set for December 17, 18 and 19.

*

M
ONDAY THE THIRTEENTH signified the final countdown: Tech Week – the last chance for the directors and I to smooth out the remaining rough edges, and polish the show into a gem of a production in time for Friday’s opening night.