Take My Advice

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

(Note to reader: I seriously need to go back and re-read this whole thing because I can’t remember what I’ve actually written and what I’ve only thought about writing. So if this seems disjointed, that’s because it pretty much is.  J  After I do a read-through, I’ll smooth this chapter out so we know what we’re really doing here. Thanks for your patience.)

                My stomach was in absolute knots as I walked toward the drama room. I didn’t want to do this—okay, that was a serious understatement. How about, I would rather lick a frog than do this. The only thing that kept me from running to hide in the bathroom was knowing that Bruce would make that list public. It was my over-inflated sense of duty and friendship that moved my feet toward the door. I cursed myself for being so doggoned dependable.

                I stuck my head through the doorway, hoping to find the room empty. No such luck. Mrs. Drama Teacher (I need to remind myself of her name) was sitting at her desk, and her eyes immediately flicked up to meet mine.

                “Hi, Jill. What brings you by?”

                I edged into the room, trying to look casual, like coming in here wasn’t the most terrifying thing I’d done in forever. But I’m pretty sure my shaking knees gave me away because Mrs. Drama Teacher stood up and pushed a chair closer to me. I sat gratefully.

                “It must be pretty important for you to stay after school to talk to me.”

                I had planned it that way so I could experience my humiliation with as small an audience as possible. I do realize that was a pun—if you’re in drama, you do have an audience. But all I had to do was try out—there was no law that said I had to do that in front of the whole class.

                “Um, I’d like to try out for the lead in the play.”

                Mrs. Drama Teacher raised her eyebrows. “That’s a rather unusual request. I didn’t realize you were interested in drama.”               

                “I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t. Not until recently.” I wiped my palms on the knees of my jeans. “Do I need to be a member of the drama club or anything before I try out?”

                “No, you can audition. The drama club members do tend to be more experienced, of course, because they perform regularly, but we’re open to anyone who would like to participate.”

                “And can I do it right now? Audition?”

                Mrs. Drama Teacher blinked. “You are in a hurry, aren’t you? Well, let’s have you read, and we’ll see how you do.” She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a script. “Our play this year is Anne of Green Gables. Do you have any objection to dying your hair or wearing a wig?”

                “No, that would be fine.”  No need to worry about that, though—it’s not like I was going to get this part.

                Mrs. Drama Teacher had me turn to the page where Anne is driving home from the train station with Matthew and talking his ear off. I’d read the entire series of Anne books at least three times and I owned the movies on DVD, and I immediately fell into the story. I read the script aloud the way I always imagined Anne speaking when I read the books, the words coming naturally to my lips. I imagined the White Way of Delight, Matthew’s head bobbing along beside me on the seat of the wagon, and the feel of the carpet bag handle between my fingers. After a moment, I looked up to see Mrs. Drama Teacher staring at me.