Beyond Clueless (10 page)

Oliver held his hands out, palms up. “Well, what are ya gonna do?”

“That’s exactly what I said!” Jimmy exclaimed. Then he turned to Xiang. “But what about me? I was robbed, too!”

I patted him on the head. “Yes. Yes, you were. Robbed.”

He pushed me away, giggling.

The movie, I’m sure, was top-notch Bollywood fare, but I don’t remember anything about it. Kirby kept yelling things at the characters on-screen, and soon we were laughing so hard we kind of lost track of the plot. If there even was one. It started off being about some girl liking some guy but her parents disapproving, of course, because they had picked someone out for her already. But then there were all these bizarro dance sequences, and even the characters seemed to stop caring about the story. So it wasn’t long before we were up on our feet and imitating their dancing. (Xiang, by the way, can really bust a move. I don’t know where she picks these things up!)

Jimmy had bought some samosas on his way home from school, and everyone except the lovebirds abandoned the movie halfway through for the kitchen.

“So. Xiang.” Kirby launched himself next to where Xiang was sitting on the counter. She gave him a sidelong glance, chewing her samosa. “How is
your
whole drama going?”

Xiang’s eyes flew to me, accusing. “You told them!”

My jaw dropped. “I did not!”

Kirby chuckled. “Aha! There
is
something!” He nudged her with his elbow. “Oldest trick in the book. Go on, tell Uncle Kirby.”

“You don’t have to tell him anything. Kirby, leave her alone,” said the refrigerator. Actually, it was Oliver—he was trying to extract a Diet Coke from somewhere in the very back.

“Oh, come on. It’s
Friday night
. I need some entertainment here!” Kirby turned back to Xiang and put his hand on her knee. “So I’m going to take a big leap and say it’s about a man.”

Xiang looked at him uncertainly but then nodded.

[Insert expectant silence here.]

Oh, Lord. I wasn’t about to sit through Twenty Questions all over again.

Hand on hip, I huffed, “OK, fine, if you’re going to tell him, I’ll save us all a lot of time and give the condensed version. Parker Something-or-other, brown hair, slim, normal height . . . bluish eyes? Plays the clarinet in Cleveland Youth Orchestra with Xiang. And he’s been asking if she’s available for extra-orchestra activities.”

I stuck my tongue out at Xiang in response to her glare.

“I’ll bet!” Kirby said, grinning. “And what
exactly
is keeping these extra-orchestra activities from happening?”

“Kirby, lay off. Don’t be so nosy. Some people like to let things . . .
develop
,” Oliver said, cracking open the Diet Coke.

Kirby rolled his eyes. “Let me know how that works out for you,” he muttered.

“Actually, my parents are anti-love—of any kind. Until I’m about thirty years old,” Xiang said glumly.

Kirby snorted in exasperation. “Seriously? Geez, if my parents knew of my, er,
Greek proclivities
, they’d crucify me.” He raised a campy eyebrow. “And I can assure you, that hasn’t been a deterrent in the least. Five boyfriends and counting.”

“You have five boyfriends?” Xiang asked, incredulous.

“Well, in theory,” Oliver said. “He hasn’t met any of them in person yet.”

“I suppose that does make it easier,” Kirby allowed. He turned to Oliver. “But you shut up. If my parents were like yours, I wouldn’t have any problems!”

Oliver snorted, almost sneezing Diet Coke. “Oh, don’t even—you would
so
not get away with having multiple boyfriends.”

Kirby rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Still. You know what I’m saying.”

I wish I could tell you what Xiang had to say about Kirby’s virtual harem, but I was already halfway down the hall on my way to the bathroom, bursting. And when I got back, they had moved on to some ice cream they’d found, chatting away about the relative merits of Dunkin’ Donuts versus Krispy Kreme. But Xiang seemed to have a new twinkle in her eye, so it seemed that Kirby might have been just what the doctor ordered as far as advisers go . . .

B
y the time callbacks rolled around on Monday, I was soooo ready for them to be over and done with. There are only a certain number of times you can try to match the list of callback people with the cast list in your head before you make yourself truly bonkers.

For better or worse, I ended up spending much of the weekend at the library, trying to find stuff on nutrition history for my global studies course. But I won’t bore you with the details (they actually involve microfiche files), so let’s just skip ahead to Monday afternoon.

So the final bell rang, and I raced over to my locker to shove some of the afternoon books in and take out even more books from the morning for homework. (Grrrrrr.) I shot into the bathroom for a bit of hair-fluffing in front of the mirror and then raced across the parking lot to Jerry Hall. This time it would be just me on my own, with no Xiang or Jimmy for support.

(Well, there would be Derek. Not that Nervous Nelly would be helping matters for me.)

I was almost at the door when I saw Felix (hubba-hubba) getting out of a silver Toyota. There was a pretty brunette in the front seat wearing a burgundy V-neck sweater that
I recognized as being part of the Holy Name uniform. (I can’t believe I knew these things after only a few weeks at a Catholic school. Shoot me, please?)

My heart sank. Did he have a girlfriend?

Felix gave a halfhearted wave to the girl and walked into Jerry Hall ahead of me. Once I was inside, I saw that he was still in the lobby area, riffling through the books in his bag. He looked up at me and flashed me a dimpled smile that was blinding even as my eyes were still adjusting to the indoor light level.

“You don’t have a pen I can borrow, do you?”

“Oh, um, sure!” I flushed, but I managed to sling my bag down my arm to crash onto the floor.

“I meant to grab one from my sister’s car, but I forgot,” he continued, and my heart took flight once again.
His sister!

Stooping down, I rummaged for a pen, which I handed to him. He hesitated, and I realized to my horror that I was giving him a pen that had been horribly mutilated by my teeth—like, it was dented everywhere, and the little clip-y part on the cap was twisted at a strange angle and jagged with dentally inflicted wounds.

I know, I know, it’s a gross habit, but I can’t help it! I could just imagine how grossed out he was. All it needed was a layer of saliva on it, and it could have been a dog’s chew toy.

I quickly pulled it back and lamely said, “Oh, that one doesn’t work . . . um . . . there’s another one in here somewhere . . .” Finally I managed to pull out a reasonably unmolested pen and gave it to him.

“Thanks. And I’m Felix.” His low voice was mesmerizing.

“Marty. I mean, Martha. Hi.” I followed him into the auditorium, hating myself.

Inside, Jenny McCafferty was onstage, discussing something with Sister Mary Alice and Mrs. Murray. There were already two dozen or so people sitting in the seats.

“Guess we’re right on time, huh?” Felix said aloud.

Was he talking to me? Oh, my gosh, he was.

“Oh, yeah,” I said. You can see why I’m known for my sparkling wit.

He dropped into a nearby seat, looked up at me, and patted the seat next to him. I was still thrown by the pen fiasco, rerunning it in my head, but I did pull it together enough to sit down. He held out my pen, giving it back to me.

“Here you go. Looks like we don’t have to sign in this time.”

I took the pen back, relieved that he hadn’t had that much time to inspect its condition. Just then, Derek walked in, and I waved him over. But as soon as I did it, I felt weird—I mean, did Felix want to sit next to me alone? Was I abusing his invitation by extending it to others?

Derek came over, looking a little shocked and unsure about the fact that I was sitting next to Felix. He sat next to me, and I introduced them.

“Hey, Derek. This is Felix. Felix, Derek.”

Felix did a little chin-lift thing as an acknowledgment. Derek gave a weak, “Hi.”

“So, um, is this your first time auditioning at Oaks?” I asked Felix.

“Yeah, it is. I’m a junior at St. Paul’s.”

I almost said, “I know,” but somehow I stopped myself in time. Apparently, my dignity was slowly making its way back to me.

“The shows at my school are stupid, and I’ve heard a lot about this theater,” he said, looking around admiringly. Derek and I looked around, too, as if we hadn’t seen the room until that moment (speaking of “stupid”).

It occurred to me that this was the first time that I was in a social situation with Derek and not Jimmy. If Derek and I both made it into the play, we would be spending a lot of time together. And if Jimmy and he broke up, would he quit? After all, the whole reason he’d auditioned was because Jimmy basically forced him to. I snapped out of this little daydream to the horrifying realization that Felix had apparently just asked me something.

Oh, God. What did he just say?

Heaven bless her, Jenny McCafferty picked that moment to start clapping and yelling, “OK, settle down, folks. Let’s get started.” I gave Felix an apologetic shrug and smile, as if to say, “Gee, I guess I can’t answer your question now!”

Note to self: Learn how to follow a conversation.

Sister Mary Alice shooed Jenny offstage and gestured for the kids who were sitting farther away to move closer.

“Welcome and congratulations! You all had splendid auditions last week, and today we are in the final phase of
the casting process. Thirty of you have been called back, and eighteen of you will be in the final cast. I don’t know about you, but
I’m
a bundle of nerves today.” Sister Mary Alice bugged her eyes out and bared her lower teeth in an expression of mock terror. We all laughed—I guess you just had to see it—but it was an uneasy laughter all the same.

She continued. “This is the hardest part of the auditioning process, mostly because there is no way for anyone to prepare for what we’re going to do today. I will take you through a series of improvisational acting exercises, because I want to see what spark you can bring to a character. This musical isn’t just about looking the part or singing the part. We know you can do that. But beyond how you appear or sound, this play really requires you to take characters from childhood fairy tales—characters everyone already knows—and make the audience connect with them in new, powerful ways.” She looked us over, appraising us with her hard stare. “Well. Let’s get started, then.”

We began by playing a game of Freeze. It’s a really basic exercise where two people improvise a scene, and whenever someone else wants to jump in, they yell, “Freeze!” The two actors “freeze” whatever they’re doing, and the new person has to replace one of the actors and start an entirely new scene based on how they’re physically positioned. Confusing? Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through it.

So the first people to go were some guy from Cathedral Latin and Maria Kilkenny. You know, the big girl with the amazing voice? Since they were first, Sister Mary Alice gave
them the scene, telling them that they were two people who hadn’t seen each other for forty years. (I couldn’t help but think, Gee, is that what Sister considers normal, at her age? Xiang was definitely having an influence on me.)

“Oh, Hal!” exclaimed Maria, throwing herself at Cathedral Latin Guy and enveloping him in a big hug.

“Uh . . . Janice! It’s, uh, been so long!” he exclaimed, obviously alarmed by her sudden attack. He managed to recover a bit and awkwardly began patting her back.

“FREEZE!” yelled a blond guy, and Maria and Cathedral Latin Guy froze in position. The blond guy jumped onstage, and he took the place of Cathedral Latin Guy in the scene. There were some knowing chuckles in the room—people assumed from the hug position that Blondie was about to start some kind of sexual groping scene with Maria.

But instead of patting her back gently, he pounded it as if she were a conga drum. “Spit it out! Come on, Alice, don’t choke on me here!” he yelled. She immediately caught on and started gagging and calling for water.