The Truth About Fragile Things Read online

  “She is not that bitter,” Phil said.

  “Maybe I am,” Charlotte argued. “Because I can totally do that. I couldn’t figure out how to beg them to like me, but if I’m getting up there to show them how stupid they are, then…”

  “See?” I said. “You are Dotty. You are a screwball, forget-everything, second-rate actress who knows she is still better than everyone else.”

  “You know, now that you mention it, she is Dotty,” Phil agreed.

  “I am Dotty,” Charlotte confirmed. “And I want those sardines.”

  We ran the scene for the next forty five minutes while the line of over a hundred students whittled down to the last few, the stragglers looking sicker and more scared with every passing minute. Faces emerge from the stage doors, flushed, hopeful, nauseated. Charlotte was right—she couldn’t hope for a real part, but the list was what mattered now.

  “Last is good,” I reassured her when a girl came out crying on her friend’s shoulder. “Schatz will remember you. Everyone else is just a blur by now. She’s already seen all these people say the same thing over and over. We have to make this fresh.”

  “I am so fresh,” Phil whispered. “Wanna see how fresh I am?”

  “I wouldn’t make out with you if it was in a script,” I shot back.

  “That’s just low.”

  “Our turn,” Charlotte said in a husky, determined voice.

  Phillip enveloped her small hand in his, her fingers lost under his strong grip. “You own this.” He walked her to the edge of the curtains and only let go when we all stepped onto the stage.

  We gave our names and grades, mostly just to observe formalities. Drama teachers must avoid the appearance of favoritism, no matter how real it is. Schatz looked surprised to see us paired with a freshman she’d never met, but she told us to proceed.

  I started us off, trying to make sure I got everything rolling in the right direction before I handed off the scene. Then it was Phillip and Charlotte. Her voice faltered at the end of her first line and I flinched and closed my eyes. But a moment later Phil’s rich voice spread over the mistake, bandaging her flaw. She must have sensed his control because she trusted him. I couldn’t tell if I was hearing success or just wishing for it, but I knew without a doubt she wasn’t embarrassing us.

  Phil stomped up to her, the ridiculous words rolling off his tongue effortlessly. He got to the part where he had to spin her around to face him. I watched her eyes go wide, her hair swing in the spotlight, the shadow of their bodies stretched over the floor. She stood up to him, returned his banter, the lines coming easier every time she opened her mouth. She performed. When Schatz thanked them I pulled in a long breath to make up for the one I’d held.

  They exited stage left and Charlotte was the first one to me. She beamed with a flushed face.

  “Charlotte, you’re happy!” I said. “Genuinely happy.”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘genuinely.’” She countered.

  Phil crushed us both with a hug and I was glad for the excuse to feel her soft cheek against my shoulder.

  “You rocked,” Phil said. He said it to her. Not me. But I didn’t mind because she looked so proud of herself. Outside, under the low clouds of the September day, I pulled out my copy of Bryon’s list.

  “That’s three down,” I told them.

  “Is it time for skinny dipping yet?” Phil asked.

  “Absolutely,” Charlotte swaggered the word through her mouth like a purr. “Meet us at the river tonight at midnight. And if we’re not there, start without us.”

  I laughed harder than she did.

  CHAPTER 13

  Phil met me outside school the next morning and greeted me with one word. “Callbacks.”

  “Charlotte?” I asked.

  “Callbacks.”

  “She made callbacks?” I waited for him to confirm, but he just smiled. “Are you serious?” I gave him a fast, excited hug. “Thanks to you. If Schatz pairs her with someone else, I don’t think she’ll make it.”

  “She’s the only freshman on the list. It’s a short list, Megan.” His eyes flashed with pride.

  “Oh, no. Alicia?” I asked in a low whisper.

  “She’s on it. Schatz must have liked her Australian accent.” He scratched his nose to conceal his ironic smile. “Turn left,” he directed me. “You don’t want to go through the ring of despair.”

  I gave one quick glance at the crowd of hanging heads and wet eyes gathered around the callback list outside Schatz’s door and obeyed Phil. It was too early for devastation.

  After school Alicia ran up to Phil and me outside the stage doors. Judging from Charlotte’s nervous twitches at lunch I had a feeling she was taking her time and walking slowly. Whatever she said, she was scared.

  Alicia hugged us both and gave a little squeal. “We can pair up. How should we do it? We’re supposed to go in groups of two.”

  I took the script from her hand. There were three scenes: one for two boys, one for two girls, and one for a boy and a girl.

  “Schatz said to pick a partner and do a scene.” Alicia’s eyes shifted and I knew she was worried Phil and I would abandon her and go in together. “Do not leave me with Taylor. Her push-up bra has her girls bumping into her chin today. Every time Braden is in charge of the booth she acts like a dog in heat.”

  “Zirman?” Phil laughed. “She would eat him for an appetizer. She seriously has a thing for Zirman? He’s boring.”

  “Stop saying his name like that. He’s nice,” I corrected.

  “Nice is boring,” Phil countered.

  “Well, let’s all go fall in love with homicidal maniacs, then. That’s interesting.”

  “Who’s talking about love?” Alicia interrupted. “I just want to know which one of you is going to help me get a part.” She lowered her voice and turned away as Taylor passed.

  “You two go,” Phil said, his eyes following Taylor’s chest with open curiosity.

  “Who will you be with?” Alicia moaned. “If you say Taylor I will scream.”

  “I’ll take Freaky Freshman,” he said and gave me a wink Alicia couldn’t see.

  “No. No way. How did she even get in here? You are not getting stuck with her, Phillip.” Alicia stomped her foot for good measure.

  “It’s fine,” Phillip said, his face clouding. He strained his eyes down the hallway looking for her. “She’s actually good. Where is she, Megan?”

  Alicia gave us a critical scan. “Why would Megan know?”

  “We are sort of helping her.” I choked on the words and gave a small cough.

  “Helping her? I thought she was crazy. How did you meet her? Why was she stalking you?”

  “I finally got her to talk to me. She thought I was someone she used to know. Phil and I helped her audition.”

  “She’s the girl you were with at tryouts?” Alicia asked.

  “Yeah.” I spotted Charlotte at the end of the hall, her mouth set in a tight line.

  “She’s pretty,” Alicia murmured, but Phil had already walked away to talk to her.

  “She’s something,” I sighed, taking the script. “Let’s get to work.”

  I ignored the suspicious look Alicia gave me and got down to business, avoiding Phil and Charlotte in the hope Alicia would, too. After a few minutes it worked. I forced myself to concentrate on blocking, forced my head not to turn and see how Charlotte was doing, made myself ignore the sound of Phil’s laughter.

  “Let’s go first,” I told Alicia. I clamped my teeth together and tugged her to the front of the line. If we got it over with fast, Alicia would go home and I could stay and watch Charlotte.

  “No. Not first. I’m not ready,” Alicia protested.

  “You are ready. Make the first impression. Come on.” All I had to do was smile apologetically at the first two people auditioning and they stepped aside graciously. Being popular, for all its downsides, has certain perks.

  “Don’t sound canned,” I warned Alicia. “Don’t t
hink of the script. Don’t picture the lines. Just say them like you are the first person who ever thought them.”

  “I know, I know.” She did a few hops like a boxer about to go into the ring.

  Someone on the tech crew called us in and I stopped just shy of center stage, positioned my body toward the empty chairs, smiled at Schatz and her production assistant sitting with their clipboards.

  “You can begin,” Schatz told us.

  I took one breath, felt the stage air pulse through my lungs like power, soaked up the lights like a plant reaching up for the sun and jumped into the scene. I didn’t have a single thought in my head until Alicia finished the last line and awareness ran back up my spine like a current that had been cut and restored.

  “Nice job, girls. Way to get things rolling. Good luck,” Schatz’s voice echoed.

  After we returned to the harsh hallway lights Alicia wanted to hash over every detail but I put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Don’t jinx it. We did amazing and I never talk about a tryout once it’s over.” It was a complete lie, but it sounded both mature and eccentric. I decided to adopt it for future use.

  I pointed her shoulders toward the parking lot and gave her a gentle nudge. “See you on the cast list tomorrow.” She nodded obediently and left, looking back three times. Each time I just gave her a calm thumbs-up and willed her to keep walking. It worked. I waited until she was gone before I slipped back in to watch Phil and Charlotte. I crept up to the sound booth where Braden was doing his homework until it was time to shut down the spotlight. It was completely against the rules to watch other people audition, but I am discreet and I knew he wouldn’t tell.

  “You did really well,” he said, while he worked his way through a math problem.

  “Thank you,” I replied from my corner. I stayed in the shadows in case Schatz turned around to ask him something. “I promise I’m just watching Phillip and then I’ll go.”

  He shrugged and kept working. It didn’t take long before Charlotte and Phillip appeared. I took a step closer to the glass wall, studying the way she looked on stage. Her skin was so golden that even under the white lights she kept her color. Phillip’s Puerto Rican skin washed out more than hers. When Schatz told them to begin, Phil squeezed Charlotte’s hand and it looked like he murmured something before he took his spot, all business.

  He came out strong, commanding the stage from his first word. I’d grown used to that. What surprised me was the way Charlotte managed to keep up with him.

  Braden raised his eyebrows in a silent question as he watched her and I just smiled and shrugged. Everyone wondered where the freshman came from. “I’ve seen you two together. Has she been in anything?” he asked.

  “Never. Never on a stage.” We stopped talking to watch. When she did a fabulous slip the cracking sound of her body hitting the stage floor shot through the room. I flinched and then gave an almost giddy clasp of my hands when she sprang up with a smile.

  “She’s a natural,” Braden said as she dusted off her jeans. “I thought she broke something.”

  “Schatz is going to love that. Do you think she has a chance?”

  Braden turned a dial on the soundboard. “A freshman? I dunno. Helps that she’s with Phil. How’d she get him to agree to that?”

  “He thinks she has potential,” I said.

  “Or he thinks she’s hot,” Braden offered.

  “Really?” I asked. “She’s fourteen. She looks like a little kid to me.” Every time I saw Charlotte my brain grabbed at gentle words—pretty, lovely, attractive. Never something as sharp and ragged as ‘hot.’

  “I don’t know.” He tilted his head and I followed his stare to Charlotte’s soft curves, small waist, her hair that fell to the arch of her spine.

  I watched Phil take Charlotte’s hand again and lead her off stage. “Thanks for letting me watch.”

  “No problem.” His mouth cracked open like there was another sentence about to squeeze out, but nothing came. When I opened the door he spoke again in fast, agitated words. “Megan, I didn’t mean to say that she is…anyway, she is just a little pretty. Not compared to somebody…really pretty.” His face went pink all the way to his spiky hair.

  I could feel the shape of my smile, the curve of surprise, the warmth that seeped into my voice. “Duly noted. Thanks again.” I grinned as I circled down the spiral steps, happy in the thought that Taylor would never get close enough to hurt him. She didn’t know a nice boy like Braden would run as fast as possible from obvious. And she was lip-biting, wet t-shirt obvious.

  I met Charlotte and Phillip at the end of the hallway, well away from rest of the group. “You performed Charlotte,” I told her. I couldn’t think of a better compliment than that.

  Phillip took her arm and lifted her elbow, inspecting it. “Did you bruise yourself? I almost broke character to see if you were okay.”

  Charlotte rubbed her arm. “It actually did hurt more than I thought it would.” She gave us a bright smile. “So that’s probably it, right? You said freshman never get a part.”

  “They also don’t make callbacks. You never know,” Phillip grinned. “You liked it, didn’t you? Megan, I think the bug bit her.”

  Charlotte’s smile widened, broke apart, showing her white teeth. This was a new kind of pretty for her, the kind that lived inside happy.

  “We may have created a monster,” I agreed.

  “She’s so cute when she’s ecstatic.” Phillip squeezed her shoulders before he planted a kiss on top of her head.

  Charlotte whipped her hands up, flapped him away. “Stop it. When will she post the cast?”

  “Sometime tomorrow,” I answered. “But…”

  “I know; freshmen don’t get parts. I just want to see what you both get.”

  “Don’t jinx it,” I told her. “There’s ample opportunity for jinxing in the theater world.”

  “What jinxes it?” she asked.

  “Let’s see…” I started. “Saying good luck, putting a script under your pillow, turning off all the lights in the theater.” Those were the only ones I could think of fast enough to recite.

  “Wanting it,” Phillip said dryly.

  “Oh, yeah,” I agreed. “Wanting it. That’s the worst one of all.”

  CHAPTER 14

  By Friday morning, Schatz’s door was still bare. She almost never made us wait more than a day for a cast list and now it had been three. The tension spreading through the theater department was like a loaded and lit cannon that hadn’t exploded yet. I approached her door with caution at lunchtime, my brown lunch sack crumpled in my grip. She’d been nothing but brisk since callbacks.

  “Did you finish your report for Mr. Morris?” she asked without looking up.

  “Barely. My final count was one thousand and fourteen words.”

  “What did you do? Say Stalin was really, really, really bad fourteen times?”

  “Something like that.” I chuckled and tore off the corner of my sandwich. “I wove in Tolstoy and Anna Karenina. It was a stretch.”

  “Stopping you there. I am not going to know what you are talking about if we continue this line of conversation.” She stood up to join me at a table.

  “You didn’t have to read Anna Karenina?”

  “Oh no, I’m pretty sure I did.” She raised her heavy eyelids imperiously. “That just doesn’t help most of us. What I’d give for your brain.” She gripped my head in one of her large hands before sitting down.

  “You didn’t like it because there were no stage directions. Screenplays are your thing.”

  “You better believe it,” she agreed. “Speaking of, you should see the script I am looking at for spring. Queen Elizabeth, Queen Mary. Dungeons, full costumes. Can you imagine the costume rental?” she asked.

  “Dr. Lackey will hate you.” Our principal happens to feel much stronger about the math team and the football team than he does about the drama department. What money he gives he gives grudgingly. Schatz gave a huge nod and fin
ished swallowing. While she couldn’t speak I took my chance. “When are you planning on posting the cast?” I dropped the words almost casually, but she met my innocent expression with a shrewd one.

  Her fingers drummed the table, her hooded eyes almost closed in thought. “After school. I have criers this year and I figured they could recover over the weekend before they do anything rash.”

  “Like toilet paper your desk?”

  “You say it like it’s a joke. You have no idea. Did I ever tell you about the girl who put gum in every backstage outlet the day before opening night?”

  I leaned forward, hardly adding a word as she listed off all the revenge plots against her, including a student who alluded to having his dreams crushed by the drama teacher in his graduation speech. “There were five thousand people in that room. I left out the back door before they threw their hats.” She sighed and her eyes traveled up to the clock. “Lunch is almost over, but before you go I want you to tell me about Charlotte Exby. Do you know her?”

  It is strange how I’d grown immune to seeing Charlotte’s face, yet the mention of her name still turned my stomach. “Yes,” I answered.

  “How many plays has she been in?”

  “None.” I twisted the stem of my pear, refused to look into her eyes.

  “None, ever? Ever?” Frustration etched lines around her mouth. “This is a tough one, Megan. She’s young, she’s never taken one of my classes, completely inexperienced…”

  “But good?” I prodded.

  “Hard to tell. No, that’s not fair. Yes, she seems pretty good,” Schatz admitted with a scowl.

  “Too much of a risk?” I sympathized. Charlotte had a way of being an inherently risky person.

  “Maybe. Maybe,” she raked a hand through graying hair.

  “You are actually considering her, aren’t you?” The words were tinted with excitement.

  “Does that upset you?” Schatz turned her direct gaze to me, using me as a test study for how the other students would react. Unfortunately, we both knew I never reacted like other students.