“Calypso!” A voice shocks me out of my thoughts, and I look up to find Rebecca—one of the girls who auditioned for Jo—beaming down at me. She plops into the seat beside me, where some other guy normally sits, and leans forward like she has secrets to share. She doesn’t. “Girl, what have you been doing hiding back here all this time? Who knew you could sing and play and act like all that!” Her bright eyes contrast her dark curly hair, and there’s nothing malicious, at least on the surface, of her pale skin.
I close in on myself and have no idea how to respond in a way that will politely set the attention aside without making it seem like I think I’m better than anyone else for doing so.
“Isn’t she amazing?” Lex’s voice invades the conversation, and Rebecca’s eyes shift past me to meet his. “She’s shy. Don’t mind her. She’s probably trying to think of an actually humble way to respond without invalidating your appreciation.”
Blunt, but honest. And chillingly accurate.
Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind a bit. “I don’t know how shedid it. We only got everything days before the audition! I could never. I auditioned for Jo because her song was the only one I could wrap my head around.”
Jo does have the easiest song, even if it’s arguably one of the most vital pieces, tying several of the others together and leading into the biggest climactic point of the play. As Harriet’s sister in thieves, Jo is against everything happening between Kenneth and Harriet. She sees the moments when Harriet is slipping away from the life they’ve always known well before anyone else. Already abandoned once by her family, Jo’s song “Left Behind” scorns the entirety of being daring if only to be forgotten in the end.
It’s one of my favorites.
“It’s my private assumption that she doesn’t sleep,” Lex teases, flicking one of my braids.
I frown at him, uncertain what his obsession with my braids is.
“Have you guys known each other long?” Rebecca asks, flicking her gaze between us. “The chemistry you brought out in class last Monday and then again at the audition makes me think one of you is secretly training the other.”
“We first spoke Monday,” I interject, that question finally one I’m confident in my answer of. “During that impromptu audition.”
Rebecca’s mouth drops open, forming a stunning little “O.” “You’re kidding!” Her smile warms her face again. “That was nuts, too, by the way. I didn’t see either of you even glance at the script once you’d started.” She sighs merrily, plopping her bag down beside her chair, indicating her intention to stick around. “I hope I get Jo, if only so I can act against you, Calypso. I’m so glad that in our scenes, I’m the angrier one. Pretty sure you scared Marcus half to death.”
“Oops.” My toes curl, and I grip my braid. All I can rememberfrom that audition is that I was actually, literally, furious that Marcus wasn’t Kenneth.
Rebecca laughs. “He’ll get over it. He’s my brother’s friend, and apparently the whole ordeal blew him away so badly he wouldn’t shut up about it.” The girl winks. “Careful. He may have just pulled a Kenneth and fallen for the dangerous beauty.”
My stomach churns, curdling, and I force a chuckle. “Well, I certainly hope not. I’m the furthest thing from Harriet.” A wash of something cold and lethal hits me, stealing the kind conversation away and drawing my attention to the door in the moment when Agatha enters. Her narrowed gaze pins me, then a sneer curls her lips. The unspoken declaration of war is, unfortunately, one I know all too well.
I deflate, reaching for the paper bag. If there was ever a time I needed a muffin, it’s now. I pull out the large blueberry friend, baked to golden brown and topped with crystal flecks of sugar, and it’s perfect.
Mr. D’plume walks in last, another fresh cup of coffee with him, and any other conversation Rebecca may have continued pauses. Tangible anticipation leaves her in waves, and Mr. D’plume doesn’t waste any time in meaninglessly drawing out the suspense. “Take one and pass it down,” he murmurs, plopping a stack of cast sheets on the nearest occupied desk before heading to his own and leaning against the front. His disinterested eyes run over his students while he takes a long drag of coffee. “Today, we’ll continue familiarizing ourselves with the script. Those of you with roles can begin fully acquainting yourselves with your characters. Remember, theater is about expression.” Coming from a guy who so rarely offers any manner of expression, the comment feels ironic. “In movies, the characters displayed have the luxury of subtlety. In theater, even the softest emotions must be conveyed in big ways. No cameras will be providing any close-ups to catch the faintesttear glistening in your eye. Remember that as you identify your characters. From now until the end of the school year when we take to the stage, class will be a collection of analyzation, theory, and rehearsal.” As a final statement, Mr. D’plume echoes, “There are no small parts, only small actors. Don’t let me find any small actors in my play.”
I catch his eye at the last word and swallow a deceptively dry chunk of fluffy muffin. I don’t know whether to be afraid or grateful. Under normal circumstances, it may seem like a threat. But consideringhis playis actuallymine, it feels like he’s speaking for me. From the first moment when I gave in and told him my conditions, he determined to make it something great. As though it might convince me I should continue to pursue great things.
I do want it to be great, but I don’t want to be at the center of the greatness.
So much for that wish.
“What!” Agatha exclaims. She shoots right up out of her seat. “I’m anunderstudy?”
Mr. D’plume doesn’t bat an eye. “Didn’t you send me an email detailing exactly how much this part meant to you and how connected you felt to Harriet?”
Agatha bristles, but she doesn’t hesitate. “I did that so you’d give me a chance to audition, which is only fair.”
“Life’s not fair.” Mr. D’plume yawns. “You get to learn all the same things and embrace the same character.”
“But I don’t get to perform.”
Mr. D’plume fixes Agatha with a look that sends a shudder down my spine. “If your only interest in my class is performing, you will never have the motivation to learn the applications that will allow you to be anything more than a college graduate with a useless acting degree.”
A slight gasp brings my attention toward Rebecca’s desk inthe same instant Agatha decides to sit down. I glance at the bright girl with the dark curls and find her grinning at me, pointing a finger at her cast sheet.
Jo: Rebecca Stewert
In a whisper, she says, “Looking forward to thieving with you, Calypso.”
Despite Agatha’s silent threats, loud outburst, and whatever else she’ll find to make the coming months a living heck, I smile. “Can’t wait.”
