Lucky Break (10 page)

‘That dreamers often lie.’ Jackson put his hands together and tucked them under his ear, like he was sleeping on a pillow, but emphasising the double meaning of ‘lie’.

It’s so unfair!
Olivia thought.
Jackson can get across two meanings while Garrick can’t even get across one. Think how good a Romeo Jackson would have made!

It wasn’t long before Olivia took the stage across from Garrick for the Romezog and Julietron scene where they meet at the ball and fall in love at first sight. There were boxes set up to represent the tables and the neon light
fountain that would be on stage for the real thing.

Camilla and some of the other cast members were sitting in plastic seats to watch.

‘Are you ready?’ asked Camilla.

‘Uh, huh, huh …’ Garrick chuckled his helicopter laugh again. ‘Just a sec.’

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a familiar-looking bag and tipped a little powder down his trousers. Immediately, he started hopping around like a flea. He was using the itching powder to stay in character, taking method acting to a whole new level.

‘Let’s start from Tybalt’s exit!’ Camilla commanded.

They began rehearsing Romeo and Juliet’s first meeting.

‘O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!’ Garrick twitched nearer and nearer with every word. ‘They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to
despair,’ he said in a monotone.

Unlike the previous scenes, Garrick had all these lines memorised.
Probably
, Olivia thought,
because he read the kissing parts over and over again. Ew.
But he was just saying them, without any feeling. Olivia wondered if Garrick even knew what he was saying.

Olivia had to hold on to all her willpower to stay in character and not cringe as she said her line, ‘Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.’

‘Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.’ Garrick leered at her.

Olivia felt her mouth go dry. That was the line just before Romeo kisses Juliet.

‘Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d.’ Garrick leaned in and Olivia turned it into a quick air-kiss – even that made her want to projectile vomit.

‘Cut, cut!’ Camilla cried, waving her hands. ‘Olivia, you are way too human. You’re supposed to be a robot! And why aren’t you two actually kissing? There’s only a week until final dress rehearsal. I need to see the real love, the real passion.’

Olivia almost gagged – love, passion? With Garrick?

‘Run those lines again,’ Camilla directed.

It looked like Olivia was about one minute away from having her first kiss – with the wrong guy.

‘But … but …’ Olivia stammered.

Do something!
she thought. It was too late to pretend to be ill; the fire alarm was in the other room; Camilla would kill her if she disrupted rehearsals.

‘I’m having trouble with my motivation,’ Olivia blurted. ‘Would a robot really kiss an alien? Robots don’t have feelings.’

Camilla practically shrieked, ‘That’s what makes it romantic! It’s the whole point!’

Olivia looked around for support, but Jackson must have gone for a costume fitting. Ivy was somewhere painting the set and Charlotte was giggling in the corner.

Ugh.

‘I completely agree, Ms Edmunson,’ Garrick said, still wiggling around from the itching powder. ‘It’s very romantic.’ He opened his arms to Olivia. ‘Now, come here and give me a big kiss.’

Olivia felt a little bile rise up from her stomach. Kissing a boy who would actually put itching powder down his own jeans! Gross.

‘We can’t just kiss,’ Olivia protested, stalling for time. ‘You have to say the lines.’

‘Fine: thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d. Now, c’mere.’ He hopped a jerky dance towards her. His breath smelled like bacon.

Three … two … one …

At last, an idea came!

Olivia shrieked at the top of her lungs. Garrick recoiled and Camilla jumped out of her seat. Olivia felt a tiny bit guilty, but she’d started now and couldn’t stop.

‘Itch! Itching everywhere!’ Olivia shouted, pretending to scratch herself. ‘It must have been his powder!’

‘Oh no!’ Camilla said. ‘Get to the bathroom!’

Olivia didn’t need telling twice. She bolted from the studio and rushed to the nearest girls’ bathroom. It took her a moment to catch her breath, so she leaned against the sink and was still standing there when Camilla opened the door.

Olivia tried to grab paper towels, but it was too late.

‘You weren’t really itching, were you?’ Camilla asked softly.

Olivia bit her lip and shook her head.

Camilla sighed. ‘I’m sorry; I do get really bossy when I’m in director mode.’

‘It’s not a bad thing,’ Olivia replied. ‘Jackson thinks you’re as good as a Hollywood director.’

Camilla blushed, then hopped up on the sink counter. ‘What’s really going on?’

‘I totally get why you picked Garrick, but I just
can’t
kiss him a hundred times a day.’ The very thought brought the bile back. ‘It’s the most foul thing ever.’

Camilla thought for a moment. ‘No problem,’ she declared and Olivia wanted to weep with relief. ‘I can write out most of the kisses – and you don’t have to do it for real in rehearsal.’

Olivia almost broke into a cheer, until Camilla said, ‘But there’s no way of taking out the last kiss, in the last scene. You will have to kiss Garrick once for the performance.’

Olivia sighed.

‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’ Camilla prompted. ‘I may be your director, but I’m your friend first.’

Olivia confessed about not having kissed Jackson yet. ‘Having Garrick Stevens as my first kiss would be worth disconnecting my power supply to prevent.’

‘Hm,’ Camilla said. ‘That does present a problem. But it’s nothing a little cyborg stalking can’t fix.’

‘Huh?’

‘You’ve got about ten days before the performance, right?’ Camilla prompted.

‘Right,’ Olivia agreed.

‘That means you have approximately two hundred and forty hours to get your dream hunk cyborg boyfriend to kiss you,’ she explained. ‘Preferably more than once. That way, Garrick’s
kiss will be a blip on the radar screen of love.’

Olivia giggled. ‘Only you could explain it like that.’

Camilla winked at her. ‘I have to get back,’ she said, jumping down. ‘See you in a few minutes?’

Olivia nodded and Camilla left.

She looked at herself in the mirror.
Two hundred and forty hours.
Camilla was right. Her new mission was to get Jackson to kiss her – at all costs.

‘W
here is he?’ Olivia said aloud, searching through the crowds of students leaving their after-school activities. She was on the top step, just outside the huge school doors, but couldn’t spot her boyfriend anywhere.

She’d successfully fended off Garrick for the remainder of the rehearsal and Camilla praised her when she tried out the gazelle plus robot movements.

But when Camilla had let them go, Jackson had darted off, thwarting her efforts to put Operation Cyborg Smooching into action.

‘There!’

He was wearing a crash helmet with a visor to avoid being recognised by any eager fans, but she knew his light-blue eco-warrior shirt. He was unlocking his bike from the rack.

She bolted down the steps, narrowly missing knocking over a sixth-grader carrying some science experiment involving lots of glass tubes and something that smelled like rotten eggs.

‘Hey!’ she called to Jackson.

‘Olivia!’ He pushed up the visor and grinned. ‘I thought you’d already left.’

Kiss me, kiss me!
She wanted to shout, but she had to stay casual. ‘Nope, still here.’

‘Well, see you tomorrow,’ he said, giving her a hug.

‘How about not?’ she said. ‘I mean, how about seeing me now?’

Jackson looked confused. ‘Do you mean in
some other way than me looking at you looking at me?’

Arg! Why is this so complicated?
Olivia thought. ‘Yes, I mean, do you want to go to the mall? For a snack or something? Do you have time?’

‘Time for my beautiful girlfriend?’ he said. ‘Of course.’

They sat down in the food court at a corner table, with Jackson facing the wall to minimise how often he got recognised.

Olivia was chewing on her fingernails again.

She’d tried to kiss him on the walk over, but with him wheeling his bike, it was hard to get into range. When they’d walked past the fountain in the mall, she thought he was going to kiss her, but he was just looking at the tennis rackets in the window of Sports Selector.

Now that they were sitting down, it was going
to be even harder. She had always thought of the tables in the food court as small, but this one felt like Mount Everest now that she was planning on kissing the boy on the other side of it.

I’ll practically have to flip over it to get to him!
she thought.

‘Are you OK?’ Jackson asked.

‘Huh?’ Olivia replied. ‘I mean, yes, I’m fine.’

Now, should I go over the French fries or around the ketchup bottle?
Olivia wondered.

‘Are you feeling faint?’ Jackson was watching her closely. ‘You seem to be swaying.’

‘Ha!’ Olivia tried to laugh nonchalantly and wave away his concern, but she knocked over the salt and pepper shakers and sent them flying. ‘Everything’s great!’

You can’t be happy that I’m going to kiss Garrick before you!
Olivia thought.
So why don’t you kiss me and make this all so much easier?

She placed her hands on the table, lifted herself slightly off her chair, leaned across and … head-butted the tray of cakes and sodas being carried by the waitress who was bringing over the rest of their order.

It didn’t hurt, but everything went flying with an embarrassing clatter and smash. Jackson was doused with soda and Olivia had cake splattered all over her white-and-yellow sweater.

‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,’ she said to Jackson and to the waitress.

The waitress grabbed them some napkins and Olivia wished she could disappear into the palm fronds behind her. ‘Hey – aren’t you Jackson Caulfield?’

Covered in sticky soda, poor Jackson gave a weak smile. ‘Yup, that’s me!’ Then he had to sign one of the napkins for the waitress.

‘I’d better head home and take a shower,’
Jackson said, after the waitress had skipped off to show her friends.

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Olivia stuttered, her cheeks colouring. All she really wanted to say was,
Kiss me, you fool!

He gave her an awkward hug goodbye and left.

‘That could not have gone any worse,’ Olivia said to no one, burying her head in her hands.

‘Horse-riding is much more glamorous than I realised,’ Ivy decided, looking at herself from all angles in the mirror. Rebecca had given her a pair of tight-fitting black ‘jodhpurs’, along with calf-high leather boots. ‘I could definitely rock this look, as long as the horse is not a required accessory.’

‘Don’t worry, Ivy,’ Olivia said. She was wearing a similar outfit in beige and white, and had been bouncing on the bed with excitement while Ivy
was getting dressed. ‘It’s going to be great!’

It was Saturday and they were back at Rebecca’s ranch in Beldrake, bright and early in the morning, for Ivy’s first-ever riding lesson. She’d reluctantly left her mom’s diary up in the bedroom, getting Olivia to promise that they would have a look at it as soon as they got back.