Leap Day (13 page)
Rob hopes he isn’t overstepping his bounds. But Josie always seems to know what’s best for
him,
so maybe it works both ways. And if she’s mad, he doesn’t have to tell her that he’s the one who signed her up.
Anne Derkin watches from around the corner as Rob hurries out of the guidance office, his eyes straight ahead. Breaking up with him was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Her friends didn’t know what to say when she told them. Nobody understands her reasons. Sherri Haugen would understand. But she’s at a hospital now giving birth to a baby she never wanted and whom she’s going to hand over to strangers. Anne and Sherri were supposed to go to the University of Virginia together, but Sherri never got her application out. Now Anne is going alone. No one in Anne’s family had ever even thought about going to college. She won’t let anything derail her plans. Not even love. At least Rob is getting help from the guidance office. That makes her feel a little better.
2:20
P.M.
– 3:30
P.M.
By the time I get to the auditorium my heart is still beating fast from my run-in with Grant. At first I can’t find Megan. Usually there are only twelve people in my drama class, but a lot of other people showed up for the audition. My hope is that they only did it to get out of their last class of the day and don’t really care about being in the play. Hopefully they’ll all be really bad. I finally sight Megan warming up on stage. I can hear her running through the vowel sounds in one long
aaeeiioouu.
I scramble up onto the stage and tell her about my encounter.
“So then what happened?” she asks.
“You mean after Grant said my name and the world became a little bit brighter?”
“Yeah,” she says dryly. “After that.”
“He walked away.”
Mr. Polansky instructs us to start our deep breathing exercises. In between breaths, Megan asks, “Have you ever had a real conversation with Grant? I’ve heard he isn’t the nicest guy in the world.”
I breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. “He was very nice when he bumped into me.”
Megan shrugs. The stage quickly fills up and I recognize most of the people from
The King and I.
Megan isn’t the only one wearing clothes that are a bit more
Romeo and Juliet
than twenty-first-century Florida. Two senior girls that I’ve never seen before at any of the drama activities hurry onto the stage. Mr. Polansky gives them a big smile.
Megan leans close and whispers, “Those girls used to be in all the plays before we got here.”
My stomach knots up. I hadn’t counted on fresh competition. Don’t they know how important this is to me?
“Okay, people,” Mr. Polansky says, stroking his new goatee. “We’re going to do a quick exercise before we start the auditions. This is what I want you to do. For the next five minutes you’re going to silently act out the full range of emotions. You will need to dig deep inside yourselves to pull out the proper memory or evoke the proper event. Don’t worry about what anyone else is doing. Ready? Anger!”
He does this during our regular drama class, so I’m used to it. I barely have enough time to narrow my eyes and look mad when he calls out, “Fear!”
That one’s easy. I picture the plane/satellite/tree/roof falling on me, and then cover my head with my arms and duck.
“Love!”
I straighten up and let my features go soft and moony. I picture me and Grant slow-dancing at the prom and almost lift up my arms for real. I glance over at Brad White and Jennifer Bloom, who think they’re very special because they have the same first names as another infinitely more famous acting couple. Their shining eyes reflect a longing that I’ve seen only in the movies. Instead of people, they are two magnets drawn together. I’m not the only one looking at them. Suddenly Brad moves closer to Jennifer and they start making out. Right there on the stage! Mr. Polansky gapes with the rest of us. Then he hurries toward the stage and starts clapping. For a minute I think he’s actually applauding them until I realize he’s trying to get them to stop.
Megan says loudly, “This is better than cable!”
Brad and Jennifer finally pull apart and seem surprised to find everyone staring at them. Maybe that’s what love is all about. It makes the rest of the world go away.
Jennifer’s cheeks are bright red.
“Um, sorry,” Brad says.
Mr. Polansky clears his throat and we face front again. “Remember people, this is just an exercise! Okay, now show me sadness.”
I immediately picture how I would feel if I had failed my driver’s test this morning. My face falls, my shoulders slump, and I stare down at the floor. Except now I feel stupid for feeling sad about that when there are so many real things in the world to be sad about. My grandmother once told me that being self-centered is part of being a teenager. She says everything “looms larger” at my age. Well, I’m ready for it to loom smaller already.
“All right,” Mr. Polansky says. “Now instead of having you audition for specific roles like in the fall, I’m going to have all the boys read for Romeo and all the girls for Juliet. I’ll decide which role would suit you best.”
Is he serious? I whip my head around to look at everyone else. No one else seems fazed by this announcement. Now my agreement with Megan never to try out for the same part won’t mean anything. Mr. Polansky directs us to line up backstage, where we’ll be called up one by one. I’m so flustered that I can’t move at first. The thought of someone who only wanted to try out for the nurse or Lady Montague winding up as Juliet is too awful to contemplate. My stomach tightens up.
“Josie,” Mr. Polansky says, startling me out of my daze. “Since you’re still onstage, why don’t you go first?”
I turn full circle and see that I am, in fact, the only person left onstage. I catch sight of Megan standing next to the curtain at stage right. She motions me forward with a big smile. Sure, she can smile, because she doesn’t really care about this play. At least by going first I won’t have anyone else’s performance to live up to. I slowly move to the front of the stage and Mr. Polansky reaches up and hands me a playbook. I take a deep breath and wait until he sits down in the front row. He nods at me and I imagine myself as Juliet, standing on her balcony, peering out at her only love.
“’Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a Montague.” Oh my god am I doing okay? “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part —” Are those two senior girls watching me? “Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet —” Ilostmyplacewhatsthenextlineohright! “So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes —” Did I pause too long? Am I talking too fast? “Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself.” Whew!
When I finish I let my hand with the playbook in it fall to my side. Applause from backstage reaches me as Mr. Polansky scribbles some notes on his clipboard.
“Thank you, Josie,” he says, resting his clipboard on his knee. “That was very nice. You can come sit down here now.”
I nod, but can’t seem to make my feet obey. I honestly don’t want to get off the stage, but Mr. Polansky is already waving the next girl up. I’ve never been that nervous before. What’s wrong with me? I turn around to see one of the two seniors quickly approaching. She’s tall and blond and her skin is almost translucent. She holds out her hand and I place the playbook in it with a weak smile. I walk down the short flight of steps at the side of the stage as slowly as I dare. By the time I choose a seat a few rows behind Mr. Polansky, the girl is already beginning her speech. My spirits sink as I listen. She is really good. The bright stage lights hit her face in such a way that she seems almost lit up from inside. I wonder if I looked anything like that up there. After the girl finishes and the applause stops, Megan steps forward. She takes the playbill from the girl and looks uneasily at Mr. Polansky. I know she hasn’t rehearsed much. She reads through the piece a bit halfheartedly. I muster a big smile to urge her on, but she doesn’t really get into it. She looks at her feet as Mr. Polansky takes his notes.
Just as he puts his pen down, Mrs. Lombardo from the school office enters from the side door. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her outside of the office before. She seems taller in the real world. She whispers something to Mr. Polansky, who then turns around to me. To me!
“Josie,” he says. “You’re wanted in the office.”
“Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong,” Mrs. Lombardo says, backing up toward the door.
“What’s going on?” Megan asks, hurrying down from the stage. I shake my head. “I have no idea. Maybe my mother forgot to sign the absence note from this morning?” Maybe Mrs. G saw me passing my physics homework to Jeff Grand. Or maybe I’m being honored for being a leaper? I tell Megan not to worry, that I’ll see her at Katy’s for the scavenger hunt. I run to catch up with Mrs. Lombardo, who is holding the door open for me.
“So, what’s going on?”
“Your mother called to say she’s on her way over.”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. Say, how did your driver’s test go this morning? I assume you passed. The students who fail usually don’t come back in for the day.”
“Yes, I passed.” Did the DMV call my mother to say they made a mistake? I knew it was too good to be true! If I have to take my test over maybe I can get a better picture taken. Mrs. Lombardo is being annoyingly cryptic. We reach the office and she takes her usual seat behind the desk. She gestures for me to sit on the bench against the wall.
“Your mom should be here in a minute,” she says, shuffling through one of the piles of paper that didn’t seem to have gotten any smaller since this morning. “So I can also assume you and your friend straightened out the note situation this morning?”
I scoot down the bench to see her better. “What do you mean?” “I’m sorry I read it, I didn’t mean to.”
“Read what?”
“The note you gave me.”
Why is she apologizing for reading my absence note? I feel like I’m in one of those dreams where two people are talking but the conversation doesn’t make any sense.
“I have to go into a staff meeting now,” Mrs. Lombardo says, picking up a few folders from her desk. She pushes herself up and heads through the back door. “You’ll have to work this out between yourselves.”
“Wait!” I call after her. “Work
what
out? Between
who
?” The door swings shut and I’m alone for about two seconds before my mother walks in, carrying a big white bakery box.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she says with a big smile. “I was in the neighborhood so I thought I’d drop these off for you to hand out to your class. You know, for your birthday and because you passed your driver’s test.”
I stare at her.
“You okay?” she asks.
I put my hands on my hips and firmly plant my feet. “No, I am not ok. I’ve just been pulled out of play tryouts where I had to be the first to audition and everyone’s trying out for the same parts, I just had a very bizarre conversation with the school secretary, Megan may be throwing up her cucumber sandwiches, I’ve broken five of the seven deadly sins in as many hours, a demon may be inside a girl in my world religions class, Grant Brawner called me by name, my license photo looks like a dead fish, I have to drive my friends all over town in two hours when I’ve never even driven without Dad before, none of my birthday wishes have come true yet, and now you’re here with muffins like I’m in second grade? So, no, I am not okay.”
The taken-aback look on my mom’s face clearly says not only am I not okay, I may actually be insane. She places the box gently on the counter and tentatively reaches out and pats me on the head like I’m a little girl.
“Into every life a little rain must fall,” she says in the soothing voice she used to read me to sleep with when I was little. “I know you’re not in second grade, but everyone likes muffins, and like I said, I was in the neighborhood. I made more than necessary for the luncheon I catered today. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
I glance up at the clock on the office wall. There’s only a few minutes left in the period and I don’t want to miss any more of the auditions. Now, of course, I feel bad because she was just trying to do something nice and I lashed out. Maybe this is why she doesn’t usually ask me what’s wrong.
“No, it’s not you,” I tell her, picking up the box. “This was very nice. I’m sure everyone will love them.”
I balance the box on my hip while I open the door, but Mom doesn’t move to follow me out.
“One more thing,” she says. “When your father dropped you off after the test, did he say where he was going this afternoon?”
“No. Why?”
She shakes her head and shrugs a bit. “I picked up a strange phone message for him, but I can’t reach him on his cell.”
“Who called?”
“The woman said she was calling from City Hall and wanted your father to call her back. It was all very vague.”
I try to recall if he said anything about where he was going, but I don’t think he did. He
had
been acting a little strange, with all that talk about dreams, but he didn’t mention anything about City Hall.
“Is City Hall where the jail is?” I joke. “Maybe Dad’s secret life has caught up with him.”
Her head tilts. “What secret life?”
“Haven’t you noticed he’s been sort of secretive for the last two weeks? He’s not around the house when we get home from school anymore, either.”
Mom shakes her head. “I didn’t know that. I’ve been working so much.”
“He’s probably just bored because he doesn’t have a job, so he’s out more.”
She nods. “Probably.”
I glance at the office clock again and she gets the hint. She gives me a squeeze on the arm and says she’ll see me for dinner. That’s my mom. Not even asking where I’m going to be after school. Sometimes I think she wants to ask, like it’s on the tip of her tongue, but she almost never does.