I open my mouth to make a comment, but Calypso beats me to it. “He’s all right.”
“Oh?” Mr. D’plume’s brows rise, and he takes a languid sip of his drink, shifting his critical gaze to me. “Are you two going out?”
Once again, Calypso beats me to the punch, whipping around, her face red as scarlet. “Absolutely not. What is it withpeople and thinking a boy and a girl have to be going out if they know each other?”
In spite of my sterile act, did her mother still insist we were somehow more involved than I’d let on?
Mr. D’plume doesn’t flinch. “It’s not because you know each other. It’s because he’s in this room, and I heard music before I came in. It wasn’t one of the scores fromThe Magpie Girl, either. So you two aren’t even tucked away practicing. By all terms and deductions, this is strange, for you.”
Calypso’s large blue eyes widen, then avert. She pulls one of her braids over her shoulder and fidgets with the tips. After a moment, her gentle murmur fills my head. “It’s okay, because he’s Kenneth.”
Kenneth?
Why does my being the lead in our play have anything to do with something that started before that detail was official?
Nevertheless, Mr. D’plume seems to understand something I’m missing. He swipes a hand down his overcoat to remove an invisible spot of lint, then takes another sip of his coffee. “Well, since you’re both here, I might as well let you see the cast sheet.” He shifts through a stack of papers on his desk, leaving a trail of disarray behind when he locates what he needs.
Calypso leans forward, almost eager, until her face blanches.
Wary from her expression, I scan the sheet as well.
Harriet: Calypso Kole
Understudy: Agatha Armont
Kenneth: Lex Hawthorn
Understudy: Marcus Reeves
Jo: Rebecca Stewert
Greta: Phyllis Ply
Christopher: Elliot Trainer
Lewis: Robert Nathan
I don’t look at the most minor roles or the background acts.I scan the key players, trying to decide what was so troubling to Calypso a second ago. Maybe it’s just seeing her name front and center?
“Agatha?” she asks, her voice small. “She didn’t even…”
“I know.” Mr. D’plume sighs. “It seemed she really wanted the part, so the least I can do is let her play the lines in practice.” He turns the sheet back to himself. “As for Marcus, he tried. I would have placed Elliot in as understudy if I wasn’t certain our Kenneth didn’t miss performances.” My professor’s weary gaze pins me, narrowing slightly. “Don’t you dare break that streak, Mr. Hawthorn.” His expression eases before I feel the full weight of it. Sighing back into indifference, Mr. D’plume notes dryly. “What’s the problem, Calypso? So long as you act, Ms. Armont doesn’t even have a part.”
Calypso’s gaze snaps up, and she stands, back straight as a rail.
An entire conversation I’m not invited to passes between them, and Calypso is the first to turn away. “Thank you for the coffee. I have to get to Statistics.”
Calypso
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I stomp out of the theater room, trying very hard not to make it appear like I am stomping out of the theater room. All the anxiety that has been crashing over me all weekend pounds throughout my head, and I worry that I’m going to be sick.
Honestly, Lex appearing this morning was a much-needed distraction because no matter how I play “Daring” it still stands that I am not. I just can’t tap into the energy I found on the stage during auditions.
I’m nothing more than a terrified little girl who really doesn’t want to be daring at all. I’m not a renowned thief, finally caught and blackmailed into working for someone I can’t stand. I’m justme.
Manipulated and bribed.
