The Ghost in Me (8 page)

I open my mouth to speak, but Diggs raises finger. "Upt! No excuses. Especially now that your partner is here."

"Partner?"

He points.

I turn to find Duey, Brittley's new boyfriend, standing behind me. He leans forward. "To think we almost got out of this."

"Uh, yeah," I manage, not knowing quite what he means.
Shouldn't he be standing with Brittley?

Skirting his chocolate-brown eyes from mine, he directs a quick nod across the stage. Brittley returns it with a smile that tries to say, "It's okay, you can talk to anyone you like." But all actors have their limits, and it seems this situation has exposed hers.

Duey pivots to give me a nudge, sending a volt of electricity straight from my gut to the back of my heart. "Slayer told me one day we'd appreciate the fact that he cared."

I begin to make sense of what he's saying. "You got kicked out of study hall, too?" My voice barely manages a whisper.

He shakes his head proudly. "Yep."

I don't know why, but this makes me feel better. Like we're linked by the cosmos in some way. "Well, I'd have appreciated it more, if I could have been put in art class."

Duey shrugs, looks around. "Drama's not so bad."

"Maybe not for you. You did this last year, didn't you?"

Diggs clears his throat, pulls a script from under his arm. "Sorry to interrupt, Myri, Duey, but as I said, our time is short. Since you're paired together, you may want to practice. Duey, do you need one of these?"

I study his face, as he takes the script, expecting it to fill with horror as the idea of
who his partner is
settles in. But it doesn't. Instead, his face shows something more like pleasant surprise.

Misreading my confusion, Diggs blurts, "Did I not mention partners?" He spins around, raises his arms in the air. "People! People! Eyes, ears over here! This is very important! I can see that some of you are looking over the script with friends, which is fine. But,
please
, take note that I've assigned partners for the actual auditions, which we'll start in fifteen minutes.
Therefore
, it may be to your
benefit
to take some time to prepare with her, or him."

Diggs makes a point to look back at me, before scurrying to a table at the back of the stage.

"But, Mr. Diggs!" Brittley cries, running to him. He continues to shuffle through a stack of papers. "Every audition I've ever done has been alone for the first reading."

"Yes, yes, that may be true," he says, continuing to shuffle and sort. "But let me share what makes this experience different." He looks up at her. "One, this is a drama class. And two, our time is limited--we've got a few weeks before opening night. Therefore, I've structured the auditions to be a learning opportunity to meet the first point, while making them run as efficiently as possible to meet the second. It's my hope that when we are done, we'll be able to say that although not everyone will have been cast in big roles in the play, at least everyone will have had the chance to read from a scene as if they were in one."

"But--!"

"Ah, here they are." He waves a blue paper over his head, dismissing her protest. "Your partner assignments. Pass this around, so everyone can see."

Stepping from the swarm, Diggs makes his way back to the thick, velvet folds of the closing curtain where I've escaped.

"So, Myri," he says, polishing his fingernails on his shirt pocket. "To be clear, if you haven't already figured it out, you'll be reading with Mr. Williams. But I'll have you do it tomorrow morning, during class, since you've both had such short notice. We'll be using the stage in the gym for that." He juts his chin to where Duey is standing with Cam. "I think it's for the best. Like you, he's another student who was just added to the club."

Club... class... what does it matter?

Chapter 14

Duey.

Save him? Or, don't save him?

Those are the questions I've been asking.

Because he does need to be saved. And not just from Brittley, but from my complete stupidity.

Let me explain.

Obviously, Brittley thinks she has her plans all worked out with thinking she and Duey will be spending time together in the play, which theoretically, wouldn't be a problem. I could easily ruin that with my audition--
I.E
., if I look bad, Duey will look bad, which means Diggs will have to give another guy the leading role.

BUT! Duey wants the leading role! I heard him talking to Cam about it. So, if I screw that up for him, I'm never going to meet my own secret goal of getting Duey for myself when Roz gets over him. Last I checked, looking like an idiot in an audition isn't part of
Teen Life
's top ten list for "How To Get a Boy to Like You."

Plus, it may not even be necessary to keep Duey and Brittley apart. It doesn't seem to me that he's all that into her. He didn't talk to her much at the theater. I even asked him about it--only because I was getting so confused. I said, "I hear you're going out with Brittley." (I had to know the truth--for Roz's sake.)

And he said, "Yeah, so she tells me." I chuckled along with him, my hopes rising.

"So, it's true, then?"

He squirmed. "It's true, I guess."

I nodded, feeling kind of let down that Duey would let someone like Brittley control him like that. "So, any girl could tell you that you're going out with her, and you'd be okay with that?"

"Sure."

But I didn't believe him, and to prove he was wrong, I pushed the point. "So, I could tell you right now, 'we're going out,' and you'd say, 'okay?'"

He tipped his head, raised his brow. He might have even blushed. (If he was embarrassed, I didn't care. I wanted him to see how ridiculous he was being.) But instead of saying, 'You're right, it's not true that anyone could come up and say that and expect me go along with it,' he smiled and said, "Well, you're not just anyone. It'd be more than okay."

It'd be more than okay?

!?!?!?

He wasn't supposed to say that.

Well,
it was nice to hear
, but my point was supposed to get him to dump Brittley, so that Roz could have another chance with him.

Which leaves me with my new problem. When it comes to saving Duey, from whom am I saving him, exactly?

Brittley?

Or, me?

Chapter 15

"Myri? I believe you're next."

My stomach replies with a violent heave, making me curl slightly.

My mind reels. I have no idea how I'm going to get myself up from the floor.

I wish I'd skipped class, skipped auditions. Taken the F.

An F would be so much more bearable than crumbling alongside Duey up on stage.

Diggs rolls his fingers in an impatient wave from the center of the gym. Everyone else is scattered along the walls, under the hoops, and on the bleachers. Cass gives me a friendly push, as I roll to my knees, which I suppose, is helpful. After all, I'm shaking so badly, I can barely stand.

Inching my way toward the Lime Light of Doom, I'm hit with an idea. Maybe I can get credit for auditioning as a rock, or a log, or something that doesn't talk or move. I can roll up in a ball, and Duey can sit on my back, while he reads his lines.

"Take it from the top of page three, please," Diggs says, when I step on stage.

Okay, page 3... page 3....

I tap my head. I can't remember if there's a rock on page 3.

Paper rustles, and from the corner of my eye, I see Duey tuck his script in his pocket.

Wait--he's memorized his lines? Already?

Sweat breaks on my brow, as the tunnel I've just fallen in grows at warp speed.

I'm going to faint.

I'm moving a zillion miles away, and I'm going to faint.

I can't faint. Not here. Not now.

"Myri?"

Did Duey say his first line?

What's his line? What's at the top of page 3? I pat my pockets, both front and back. I don't have a script. How can I not have my script? I look out at the theater, looking for Cass, looking for a clue. Diggs is leaning forward, almost grimacing, waiting for words to be spoken.

I rub my cheek. My face feels hot, my palms wet.

"Is no one here?"

Okay. Now I know this is the second time Duey has said this. He takes a step sideways, as if looking for someone, which is what he should be doing. After all, he's the prince, and he's looking for me in this scene, the owner of the bakery.

"Uh--." My words fall short in my mouth. I can almost feel them there, fighting to get out, trying to say what I need to say, which is something like, 'What is it you could possibly seek in a place such as this? It's been a hundred moons since someone has stopped by.'

I'm supposed to say this, while trying to hide as the poor, dismally-cursed Nelle.

I'd like to hide now.

"Uh," I try again. But the words don't come. I stare at the back of Duey's head, and wonder what he must be thinking.

Brittley lets out a guffaw. Duey drops his arms by his sides, looks questioningly out at Diggs. I've totally goofed it.

"Uh, could you excuse me a moment?" I've finally found my voice. "I just remembered... I need... Uh... my cell phone. I'll be right back."

I jump off the stage.

Diggs jumps from his seat. "Wait. Where are you going?" His clipboard clatters to the floor. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," I lie, leaving wet streaks where my hands rub my jeans. "I'll be back in a minute."

Chapter 16

The coolness of the brick wall outside the gymnasium door presses through my shirt, and I realize I've forgotten my sweater and my binder. I'm going to have to go back in there.

Great. As if avoiding a slow and painful death once in one day isn't enough, I'll have to somehow manage it all over again.

But not yet. Footsteps draw my attention down the hall.

Roz.

"What are you doing out here?" she asks. "Did we miss it? Is your audition done?"

I let out a huff, look away, look back. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Or more importantly--" My eyes adjust to the shadowy figure beside her. "What's
she
doing here?"

Wren floats a little higher. "We came to be cheering y' on. Mrs. Haines thinks Roz is in the bathroom."

I scoff. "Well, there's no need for that." I pull the black elastic out of my hair, shake out the ponytail, then pull it all back again. "I made a total fool of myself. Hopefully, Duey's not still gaping on stage."

"You read your lines with Duey?" Roz's voice goes weak with hope.

I shake my head. "I barely muttered a syllable."

She sets an ear on her shoulder, trying to dip her head lower to meet my eyes. "Well, was it a good syllable?"

She's trying to be funny, but I don't laugh.

Wren slips closer. "Surely, y' said more than that. Even a newborn babe can let out a sound or two, when it opens its mouth."

"Nope."

Roz throws up her hands. "Myri, you have to go back in there and read your lines."

"No way."

"But you'll fail. And Brittley will get the part with Duey, which will make things worse than they already are!"

I bump my head back against the wall. "Well, there's nothing I can do about that."

"Okay, okay. So maybe you won't keep Brittley from getting the lead, but you'll fail with your grade. Even if Diggs is dating your mother."

"Maybe I should fail then. Maybe my mom will get mad and stop seeing him."

Roz shakes her head, looks at me, looks at Wren, then back at me again. "Why don't you let Wren help. Then you'll be able to get through the trimester banging nails on the set like you want."

I ignore the nodding head that's floating beside her.

"Diggs is going to make you do it, anyway," she argues. "Just go in there and get it over with. While you still can. And while Wren is here to do it with you."

Wren gives a faint smile--one that has more strength than I'm able to manage. Her gaze goes to the window pane of the gym door. The light streaming out from it almost seems to reflect back a glow of confidence in her hazy form.

"There's nothing to it, Myr," Wren says, setting her gray eyes on mine. "Truly, there's not an easier thing to be done. Just let me pull y' along, like a puppet on a string. Could be a wee bit of fun, I imagine. I've never set foot in a theater--or, on a stage, I mean--but I think I've always been wanting to try."

I look to Roz, let out a defeated breath. "Like a puppet on a string?"

Roz nods. "All you have to do is sit back and enjoy the ride."

Chapter 17

"Yer trying harder than ye ought."

Wren's voice rings through my head, because that's where she is. In my head, my arms, my legs, my chest. It's a good thing I haven't eaten peas lately, because this brings back bad memories.