The Fall Musical (13 page)

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Authors: Peter Lerangis

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: The Fall Musical
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“He tried to seduce you with cheddar cheese and Ritz crackers?” Kyle said. “I should have a talk with him.”
“About what?”
“I'd use Brie.”
“Shhhh,” said Mr. Mansfield.
Brianna grabbed her Snapple from the chute, took Kyle by the arm, and dragged him into the hallway. “I adore Dashiell. He's smart and kind and the loyalest friend. I just had to tell someone. And you were in the hallway. I thought I could trust you. If you mention a word of it to those Cro-Magnons you play football with—”
“Don't worry,” Kyle said with a smile. “I'm not the kind of guy who gets off on dissing others. Dash is safe. Seriously, I was just like him when I was in middle school.”
“No, you weren't.”
“Okay, not as smart, but I didn't have a clue about girls. I took Emily Fenwick to the diner but forgot to bring money. So I asked
her
to pay. She came up with two dollars and forty-one cents. I sat there, like, duh. Somehow Harrison's dad figured this out and felt sorry for us. He let us have two grilled cheese sandwiches and two waters without paying. I felt like crap eating that grilled cheese. I didn't say a word to Emily. We practically ran out after the last bite. That weekend I saw Niko, the waiter, in town, and he thanked me for the tip—only I hadn't left one! It turns out Mr. Michaels slipped a few bills onto our table to cover us.”
Brianna laughed. “Did you ever pay back Mr. Michaels?”
“I tried. He'd always point to the calculator and say, ‘Eenterest, I chhhaff to charge eenterest!' Then he'd burst out laughing and never do anything about it.”
This didn't surprise Brianna one bit. Even in middle school, Kyle had been getting away with murder. “Well, at least Dashiell was more thoughtful than that. He bought the food and the candles in advance. Except one of the candles smelled like Old Spice. Or maybe that was him.”
“So what did you do?” Kyle asked. “Did you tell him off?”
“I thanked him. I told him the projection room looked cool. I think he wanted to ask me out for Friday after next, so I invited him to the party, which was a convenient way to get out of that. Then I told him the truth—it was study period and I had to do homework. He was very sweet. He smiled and opened the door for me.”
“But you lied,” Kyle said. “You're not doing homework.”
Brianna elbowed him. “I have still have seven minutes left. I do take study hall seriously, you know. And so should you. Rehearsals kill your homework time. Oh, don't you forget: cast party on Friday, the eleventh. My house. Be there.”
“Yes'm,” Kyle said. “Hey, if I sit with you and study right now, will your brains rub off on me?”
“That is a disgusting image.”
They walked back into the cafeteria and took seats at a table, opposite each other. Brianna briskly opened her math textbook and notebook, both of which she'd bookmarked to the right page. She ignored Kyle as best as she could. As it was, she had enough homework to keep her going till two A.M.Again.
Her cell phone v brated in her pack, and she glanced down at the screen. It was Harrison. She would pick up the call later.
“Hey, Brianna?” Kyle whispered.
“Hmm?”
“You gave Dash respect. I like that. You were good to him.”
Brianna smiled. “I'm a good respect giver.”
“Yeah, to me, too,” Kyle said.
Now she had to look up. “What did I do?”
“Nothing.” Kyle shrugged. “No, something. You forced me to audition. Well, that's not respect, really. But you, like,
noticed
my singing. And you didn't say it sucked dead yaks. Like most of the football dudes in the locker room.”
“You sing in the locker room?”
“Sometimes. Until they squirt me with Gatorade. Well, they don't do that anymore because I'm never
in
the locker room—which is kind of a problem, being that this was the season I was supposed to break four records. And maybe help us get into the championship for the first time in thirty years. Everybody's pissed—especially the coach. But hey, now I get to be like a star. So, you know . . . um, thanks.”
That was the nicest thing anyone had said to her in days. “That's sweet, Kyle . . . . ”
He leaned closer. “Hey. I wanted to ask you—”
“Shhhhhh!” said Mr. Mansfield.
Kyle pulled back and began digging in his backpack for his homework books. Brianna wasn't sure, but his face looked as heated as hers felt.
13
“HEY, CASEY.”

Brianna
? It's really late. What time is it? Are you okay?”
“Sorry. Were you sleeping?”
“Yes. I mean, no. I mean, it's okay, don't worry. What's up?”
“He said he wanted to ask me something. In study hall. Mr. Mansfield shut him up, and then he kind of forgot about it.”
“Who?”
“I can't stop thinking about it.”
“Brianna, you're not making any sense. Who wanted to ask you what?”
“Kyle.”

Kyle
?”
“I think he likes me.”

What
?”
“You heard me.”
“Um, well, that's great! I mean, isn't it?”
“I wish I knew what he wanted to say.”
“Wow, Brianna, this doesn't sound like you.”
“I know, I know. Can you believe it? I can't believe it. It's only a guy. I'm sorry, Casey. Welcome to my secret life as a cheesy soap opera. What time is it?”
“Almost three o'clock.”
“I'm wired. Too much homework. I have to get some sleep. Casey?”
“What?”
“It's going to be okay, right?”

Brianna?
Um, wow, yeah. Sure. Definitely. Oh God, I get insomnia, too, and it's like the world is going to end. But then the next day you feel fine. And don't worry about Kyle, okay? He's probably drooling over you in his dreams, as we speak.”
“Thanks. Sorry about this, Case.”
“No, it's okay. That's what friends are for.”
“Uh-oh . . . ”
“What?”
“I hear a song coming on . . . ”
“You are crazy.”
“No. Yes. Maybe. Night, Casey.”
“Night, Brianna.”
14
From:
To:
Subject: Re: is benny deaf?
October 5, 5:48 P.M.
 
yo petey, dont be so mad at benny hes cool. i saw you guys through the window so I know what you're talking about. look, you gotta really yell to the qb when ur in the clear like CLEEEEER!!! benny will really hear that ee sound, you know? anyway i'll be joining u guys soon coz i really suck at this. i thought it was cool but this week was bad. i tried to sing this important song that happens during the crusifiction (sp?) scene, yes i know it sounds stupid, but i can't get it and don't tell me u can help me with that voice like a cross between a frog and a walrus. hey, its my funerel. i'm gonna work on my car. thatll make me feel better. come help. bring a new alternater ha ha ha.
 
K
 
“Lori has the
flu
?” Casey said softly into her cell-phone headset, hoping none of the teachers would see her using it. The last bell had just rung, and she was making her way through the school's crowded hallways. “Wow. She didn't look sick yesterday.”
“She didn't look sick this morning in math, either,” Harrison's voice replied. “She called me during eighth period. It must have happened suddenly. She says she'll be back tomorrow.”
Casey rounded the corner, heading toward the auditorium. She took the pretzel from a bag she had just bought from the snack machine. The wall of photos loomed up on her right—as always, surrounded by a group of students. One of them had “found” herself among the images. You could always tell. “With the
flu
? How can Lori be so sure?”
“Good question,” Harrison replied. “Can we set up an emergency audition if we have to?”
“Of course. I'll call a meeting.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“I'm in the lobby. But there are, like, seven hundred parents. See you as soon as I can.”
She flipped the phone shut, zigzagging through the lobby. Today was make-up day for moms and dads who hadn't been able to attend the recent parent-teacher conferences. From the looks of it, the conferences must have been a bust. It was amazing how much space parents occupied compared to kids. Or maybe they just
enjoyed
standing still in the middle of the hallway, like cows grazing in a field.
As Casey walked, she began riffling through her script. Lori's absence made things complicated. After lunch Mr. Levin had asked Casey if she would run the parable scene while he and Brianna worked on Harrison and Kyle's duet in “All for the Best.” Which meant Casey would have to direct
plus
read the missing parts. Naturally, she had spent the entire school day preparing for this fifteen-minute mini-rehearsal. During math class she had memorized Kyle's and Harrison's lines, risking a nuclear attack by Mr. Brotman, who was not very understanding about the Drama Club. Now, after all that, she would have to learn Lori's part as well.
“Excuse me,” she said, making her way around the grown-ups clogging the flight paths. “Excuse me!” As she took a detour around a large group discussing SAT scores, she caught a glimpse of a line outside the principal's office.
Lori's mom was there. And she was chatting with her daughter. Who seemed to have made the world's most miraculous instant recovery from the flu.
Casey walked toward her. “Lori?” she called out.
Lori's eyes darted toward Casey. Her smile tightened. She glanced tentatively in the direction of her mom, who was now talking to someone else. With a small but firm gesture, palms down and slicing the air, she made it clear that she couldn't talk.
Casey took another step forward but thought better of it. She turned and hightailed it to the auditorium, nearly colliding with a dad eating Cheetos.
She found Harrison and Charles just inside the door.
“Lori's out there, with her parents,” Casey said as the auditorium door closed behind her.
“What?” Harrison said. “I knew they were strict, but they're making her do conferences when she's sick?”
“She doesn't look sick at all,” Casey said. “Why would she lie to us?”
“Uh, excuse me, Nancy Drew and Frank Hardy,” Charles said. “This is the oldest trick in the book. Lori is keeping her alibi straight.”
“Alibi for what?” Casey asked.
“For avoiding the parent-teacher conference,” Charles said. “My older brother used to pull this kind of thing. See, if you miss
this
conference, you've got a free pass till next semester—very convenient if your grades happen to be in the toilet. Which you wouldn't think would be the case with Lori, but one never knows, do one? Ergo, Lori wanted to convince her parents she was sick. And she told us the same story because she has Mr. Levin for English and didn't want him to rat her out. But instead of convincing Mom and Pop—which clearly didn't work—she convinced Harrison and Casey.”
“That's pretty lame behavior, especially from someone who calls herself a disciple,” Harrison said.
Behind them, the door flew open. “Dudes, there are parents
everywhere
!” Kyle cried out, staggering in.
“Love the orange swoop,” Charles said, gesturing toward the right side of Kyle's shirt.
“Cheetos,” he said, wiping off as much of the Day-Glo stain as he could.
Casey noticed Kyle's fingertips were black. He caught her staring and shrugged. “I was working on my car.”
“Ah. The gasoline-Cheeto hybrid,” Charles said.
Casey glanced around the auditorium, counting heads. Brianna was tucked into a middle row, working on homework. Good. Maybe she would be able to sleep tonight. “All right, we're all here. Should we get started? Maybe someone can get snacks?”
“Ms. Gunderson has chips, I think,” Harrison said.
As they all headed toward the stage, Kyle fell in step with Casey. “You are just the person I wanted to see,” he said.
“Me?” She regretted her tone of voice, which sounded a bit too much like the contestant who just won Final
Jeopardy!
“The solo during the crucifixion scene—‘O God, I'm Dying'?” Kyle said. “It
sounds
so easy, but I can't get the notes. I listened to it and listened to it and listened to it, a million times.”
Casey nodded. “There are all those weird modulations.”
“Modu-what?”
“Key changes. They're hard to hear. You kind of have to do them over and over with a piano.”
“Right. So I'm ready to do that with you. Just like you promised me, in the hallway . . .”
She
had
promised. But she never expected him to take her up on it.
“Nobody ever uses those little practice rooms across the hall from the stage,” Kyle went on. “They have pianos in them. Maybe we could just sneak away during the rehearsal, just you and me? You could bang it out a few hundred times until I get it into my thick head?”
“Sure,” she said, not quite believing that her voice sounded so casual. She could feel her heart doing little cartwheels of joy. “Just let me know when.”
 
Brianna was in the middle of AP world history homework in Row S, simultaneously keeping track of the rehearsal onstage, when a cloud of Old Spice landed in the seat next to her. “Dashiell?” she said.

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