Authors: Laura Dower
Play It Again
From the Files of Madison Finn, Vol. 3
Laura Dower
For all my drama teachers, especially Sue W.
Special thanks to Kim R. and the New World Players at Isaac E. Young for your inspiration
Chapter 1
“I
WANT A DANCE SOLO,”
Aimee Gillespie announced at lunch. “What about you, Maddie? What part do you wanna get?”
Madison Finn shrugged and took a sip of her chocolate milk.
The Far Hills Junior High administration had decided to organize a special cabaret in honor of the school’s assistant principal, Mrs. B. Goode’s, twenty years of distinguished service. They were planning three separate nights of entertainment—one for each class in the school. Everyone in the seventh grade was expected to try out for selected scenes and songs from
The Wiz.
But Madison didn’t want to.
She couldn’t.
Madison couldn’t get up on stage to sing some lame rendition of “Happy Birthday” in the key of C.
She couldn’t face having other classmates with their eyes fixed on her every onstage move.
And she absolutely couldn’t dance.
Just the thought of auditioning made Madison woozier than woozy.
Even worse, Madison couldn’t tell her friends that she didn’t
want
to audition, especially her best friend, Aimee. Being afraid is one thing, but having to admit that to other people is another thing.
“Maybe I’ll just be one of those creepy trees that talks,” Madison finally told Aimee, trying to change the subject. “You know, like on the way to Oz.”
“Yeah, Maddie, like that’s the part you’d get.” Aimee made a face.
“I’m serious,” Madison said, flicking her straw at Aimee. Chocolate milk splattered across the orange lunch table.
“Don’t get—ahh! My new top,” Aimee cried. The milk just missed her.
She and Madison burst into a goofy fit of laughter.
“Morons,” some kid with a buzz cut at the next table grunted. He looked like a ninth grader.
“Takes one to know one,” Aimee muttered bravely under her breath.
Madison covered her face with her hands and turned back to the comfort of her lunch: two slices of bread, peanut butter, and a neatly peeled orange on the side. Orange was Madison’s favorite color and her favorite fruit.
“Hello, superstars,” Fiona Waters teased, sliding onto the lunch table bench alongside Aimee. Fiona was the new girl in town and at school, and Madison and Aimee were happy to have her as a new part of their group, along with their guy friends Walter “Egg” Diaz and his shadow. Drew Maxwell. Fiona’s twin brother, Chet, usually hung out with them, too.
“Did you check out what Ivy’s wearing today?” Fiona whispered.
The three girlfriends twisted their heads to catch a glimpse of Ivy Daly’s showy blue-flowered dress.
“That’s a Boop-Dee-Doop dress,” Aimee sneered. “I saw it in a magazine this month. Figures
she’d
get it.”
“She looks good, though, don’t you think?” Fiona said.
“Whatever.” Aimee’s voice bristled.
Once upon a very long time ago, way back in third grade, Madison had been a best friend with Ivy, but things had changed a lot over the years. Now Ivy was known as
Poison
Ivy, enemy number one at Far Hills.
Aimee glanced over at the enemy again. “She’ll probably get the lead in the play, just like always. She always gets what she wants.”
“Uh-huh,” Madison agreed, chewing an orange section.
Across the cafeteria, Ivy tossed her red curly hair and looked around the room. No matter how poisonous she acted, Madison thought, she always managed to get noticed. That was how she won the election for class president and how she won the attention of most boys in the seventh grade. She didn’t have to worry about being liked by the popular crowd because Ivy Daly
was
the popular crowd.
“Let’s talk about something else, please,” Aimee pleaded. “Are you trying out for
The Wiz,
Fiona?”
“Will rehearsals conflict with soccer? I have team practice almost every day after school and—” Fiona paused. “Well, I can’t miss soccer. I want to make a good impression with the coach, you know?”
Fiona and Madison had tried out together for the school soccer team, but only Fiona had actually made the team. Fiona had been a soccer star last year when she was living in California, so her making the Far Hills team was no big surprise. And Madison wasn’t much of an athlete, so
not
making the team was no big surprise for her, either. Madison considered it a minor success, actually. She hadn’t run away from team tryouts. That was something.
“Do you guys think I can do both at the same time?” Fiona asked.
“Totally,” Aimee said. “We’re only doing a few scenes, so we won’t have rehearsals all the time. Mr. Gibbons schedules them in between normal after-school stuff—I think that’s what I heard.”
“I want to do both,” Fiona said. “I love singing.”
“Wait a minute. You play soccer, go to Spanish club, and you
sing,
too?” Madison said, a little surprised. She kept learning new things about her new friend. It seemed like Fiona was good at everything she tried to do—and she tried to do a lot. “When do you have time to do homework?”
“In between,” Fiona said.
Madison stared down at the table, not saying much. She poured a molehill of sugar onto her lunch tray and traced a path with her fork. She didn’t want Aimee to ask questions about the audition.
But it was too late. Aimee reached across the table for Madison’s wrist.
“You still haven’t said what you’re gonna sing at auditions, Maddie!” Aimee cooed.
Before Madison could admit to being
all
nerves, Egg appeared out of nowhere. He stuck his head in between Aimee and Fiona.
“Are you guys talking about the show?” Egg said.
“Who wants to know?” Aimee growled back.
Egg swiped an apple off her tray and took a big bite. “After tomorrow’s audition, everyone can call me
The Wizard.”
He put the apple back onto Aimee’s tray.
“Wizard? You wish!” Aimee swatted at him. She glanced down at the bitten apple, dripping with his spit. “Soooo gross.”
Drew, who was standing there, too, laughed. He stuck his hand up in the air and waved a silent hello to the rest of the table.
“Drew thinks I have a good shot at the part, so there,” Egg said.
Fiona giggled. “You’ll probably get the part, Walter,” she said softly. “I mean., Egg.” She bowed her head, and the beads on her braids clinked. Madison and Aimee both knew that Fiona had a giant, inexplicable crush on him.
Unfortunately Egg ignored her. Chet had walked up by now, and the three boys sat down in a cluster at the other end of the table.
“Whassup?” Chet mumbled.
“We’re talking about auditions for
The Wiz,”
Fiona said.
“Yeah,” Madison jumped in. “Egg thinks he can be cast as—”
“A Munchkin,” Aimee interrupted. “And I think that’s a safe bet.”
Chet cracked up. “Hey, fool! She got you.”
Egg smirked. “And I’ll get her back—when she least expects it.”
“Well, I don’t know what you guys are doing, but we’re
all
trying out for the play tomorrow,” Aimee said as she pointed to herself, Fiona, and Madison.
Madison leaned across the table, whispering, “Aimee, I’m not sure that I want to—”
The bell rang for the next period. In an instant the group dumped their trays, grabbed their books, and exited the cafeteria doors.
“Ex-cuse me,” Ivy said to Madison as she pushed her way to the door. “Watch it.”
Ivy’s annoying drones, Rose Thorn and Phony Joanie, followed close behind, pushing past Madison, too. They always traveled in a pack.
A rat pack, Madison thought as they scampered away.
Later that night, Madison asked her mom what she should do about
The Wiz.
She hoped Mom had the instant cure for all this audition anxiety, the way she poured eucalyptus oil in the bathtub when Madison had a cold.
“Gee, honey bear,” Mom said gently, tickling her daughter’s back. “No one says you have to audition.”
“I have to be a part of the show, Mom.” Madison sighed. “I can’t just sit back and be scenery. I’m in junior high now.”
“It could be a lot of fun”
“What’s so
fun
about standing onstage while everyone and their parents stare at me?”
“William Shakespeare says, ‘The play’s the thing,’” Mom said. She paused. “You know who William Shakespeare is, right?”
“No duh, Mom. We read
Romeo and Juliet,
remember?”
“Rowrooooo!” Madison’s dog, Phin, agreed.
The pug rushed over toward them, tail wagging in excited circles. His whole butt jerked as he huffed and puffed.
“Good doggy,” Madison said as she bent down. Phinnie licked her chin. “What do
you
think I should do?” she asked him sweetly.
Mom came up with another suggestion. “If you don’t want to act or sing, then why not try something else to help the show? You don’t want to be a part of the scenery, but you could
paint
the scenery, right? You could paint a castle or something. Is there a castle in
The Wiz?”
“I think.” Madison shrugged.
“Well,” Mom reached out to hug her daughter. “I know whatever you decide to do, it’ll be great.”
Before bed that night, Madison and Phin curled up in bed with her laptop computer. She punched in her secret password and opened a brand-new file.
The Wiz
Rude Awakening:The play is definitely
not
the thing. I don’t care what William Shakespeare says.
Or what Mom says.
Tomorrow they’re holding auditions and tomorrow I am doomed. And of course Aimee won’t understand when I tell her I can’t try out. She’ll say I’m just being chicken. It’s so easy for her. And Fiona too. Who knew that she could play soccer, look great,
and
sing? Well, she can. No one will understand why I’m so scared to try.
I remember one time when I had to sing Christmas carols onstage at school and I passed out, fell right there on the floor like a lump. Some teacher in a Santa suit had to carry me out of the assembly and everyone was staring.
What if that happens again? What if I faint or worse—throw up in front of the world?
What if
Hart Jones
sees me do that?
The whole time Hart followed me around in second grade he was SUCH a pest. Now why do I feel like following him? I saw him today in the hall when we left science class. I pray he didn’t notice me staring.
If he tries out, I really think I should try out.
