The Cutting Room Floor (25 page)

My audition is right in the middle of the line-up. Dez gave out the times for our group last week.

I keep looking over my shoulder, worried that Will’s going to come for me. I hang out and wait for Dez to arrive with our sandwich, but he never does. I’m still in my sweats, but don’t want to go to the dressing room until I see Dez. Instead, it’s Stella who joins me.

“Are you ready for tonight?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.” I take my shirt sleeve and dab the sweat beads forming on my forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I shake my head, knowing Stella will set me straight.

“What is it?”

“Okay, don’t think I’m crazy.”

“Too late.” She pats my hand.

“I think Will is up to something. Something bad.”

“Will Thomas?”

“Yeah. I think he may have hurt Ms. Dunn.”

“What do you mean,
hurt
?”

“I think he’s the one who killed her,” I blurt out.

“
Think?”

“Yes, it’s just a theory right now,” I say, and then it comes to me. “Hey, could you do me a favor?”

“I think so. What is it?”

“Do they still give the office workers keys?”

“Yeah, but just for the reception area. Not the principal’s office or anything.”

“Where do they keep attendance records?”

Stella grins. “I can access them from the computer in the reception area. What do you need to know?”

“Will’s attendance record in September.”

“Done,” she says. “But I have one question for you.”

“Okay.”

“Just how many
theories
do you have about Ms. Dunn’s murder?”

“About four. Maybe five,” I admit, feeling my credibility slip.

Stella’s demeanor doesn’t change. She just nods and looks at her watch. “All right, Riley. But enough of this for right now. You need to get in your happy place for the audition.”

“You’re right.” I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. I feel better knowing Stella is on the case with me.

“I have something for you,” she says, reaching for my hand. She drops one of her bracelets in my palm. “It’s for luck.”

“Cool, thanks,” I say, touched.

“Knock ’em dead, Riley.”

I clench the bracelet in my hand and smile.

She stops before heading to the back. “Oh, by the way, did Dez find your necklace?”

“Necklace?”

“Yeah. He was here earlier looking for it. Did he find it?”

Before I can answer, Homer interrupts us.

“Riley, I need you over here for a minute.”

I run through my monologue with Homer, but I can’t concentrate. Dez is still a no-show.

“He’ll be here, Riley,” Homer says. “Let’s just get you through your scene.”

He works with me in a small room down the hall from the auditorium. I wait until the last possible minute to get dressed. I picked out a tasteful white blouse and black pants, and I don’t want to stain it with the sweat that’s been secreting from my body for the last hour.

When I can’t wait any longer, I go to the dressing room. There’s still no sign of Dez.

DEZ

By the time I get to the auditorium, people are starting to file in. Homer grabs me like I’m his long lost son. Then he shakes me when he realizes that I’m okay.

“I don’t even want to know,” he snaps before pushing me toward the auditorium.

Moments later, I sit with the others and watch the auditions.

Except, unlike the others,
I
wait.

For disaster.

RILEY

In the dressing room, I put on my clothes while trying to do the breathing exercises Stella taught me. I must be in the zone because I don’t hear any of the commotion until Stella’s face is directly in front of mine.

“Where’ve you been?” she screams.

DEZ

INT. HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM—EVENING

Slow motion—Riley on stage

RILEY is shaky when she comes out on stage. Each step is labored. The camera tightens on parts of her body: her chest heaving; her hands fidgeting; her eyes darting around the room.

DESMOND grips his chair so tight, his knuckles turn white.

Riley’s not at the top of her game like she wanted to be, but so far, I might be the only one to notice. She finds my face in the audience and gives me a questioning glance.
Where were you?
she asks with her eyes.

I look away.

Forget the butterflies; I have ugly, angry crows flapping away in my gut. Chewing on my insides trying to escape. I’m afraid for Riley.

Suddenly, I want to stop the audition. I want to take back everything I’ve done. What was I thinking? I am the world’s biggest asshole.

I wipe my sweaty hands on my pants. It’s too late to do anything.

The spotlight shines on Riley.

“
The Idle Man
,” she says, then immediately looks down. That’s when I notice her first slip. She got the line wrong. She catches herself and tries again. “
The
Ideal
Man
,” she says in a small voice. It’s not enough for anyone in the audience to really notice, but there’s no doubt the Guthrie scout caught the mistake. Plus, he’s already pissed she was late.

At this point, Riley’s supposed to strut downstage, but her strut looks more like a limp.

I’m so nervous, I might pass out.

“
Oh, the Ideal Man should talk to us as if we were goddesses, and treat us as if we were children.”
She continues the monologue, but she’s only going through the motions. Her voice is flat; there’s no emotion.

And then, as she moves, her clothes literally start coming apart at the seams. She walks around the stage slowly and clumsily, like she’s bracing for a fall. She struggles to keep going.

It’s uncomfortable to watch.

When I see her wrestle with her pants and boot, I have to look away. There’s a gap in the waistband of her pants and she’s trying to keep them up with alternating hands. Meanwhile, the heel on her boot is bent, hanging on by one skinny nail.

People are frozen, watching. Stella has come out to the audience, and her face is one of horror. I act concerned as people give me looks, but all I’m thinking about is the greater good: Riley’s future perfect audition for Tisch and our lives in New York City—as they are meant to be. Someday the two of us will laugh about this night.

It’s the only thing that keeps me going.

RILEY

It’s a long walk of shame out of the audition. I get a few pats on the back, a ton of stares, and a smirk from Tori. She tells me
told ya so
with her eyes. I sneak into a quiet classroom to hide. I have thirty minutes before the screenings start.

I just don’t understand how so many things could go wrong in one audition.

Well, Guthrie is out of the picture now, but there might still be a chance with the other schools.

I wish Ms. Dunn was here. She’d know what to do.

I’m such an idiot. This is what got me into this position in the first place. My obsession with Ms. Dunn and playing detective like I could make a difference. It’s been nothing but a distraction, and all I’ve managed to do is screw everything up.

And piss Will off.

God, where is he?

When I finally get up the courage to leave the room, I see Dez outside the auditorium and run to him.

He grabs me and holds on tight.

I’m safe … for now.

“I’m so sorry, Rye,” he says. “But you have plenty of other options.”

“Tisch and Columbia, here we come.” I squeeze back.

“That’s right. You’re too good for Guthrie anyway.” He puts his arm around me. “Come on. It’s almost time for the screenings.”

This should be the greatest moment. Dez and I take our seats with the cast. The others try not to meet my eyes. Homer stands up at the front of the auditorium and thanks the organizers of the festival and the schools for their support.

“Now, without further ado,” he says, “let’s take a look at one of the films from this year’s host school, my school, the Heights. This is
Alternate Realities
by Desmond Brandt.”

I try to stay positive for Dez. This is his big moment. I smile at him and he puts my hand to his lips. It’s work to concentrate when the film starts. My mind is racing.

Then it starts to really hit me. Dez’s words echo in my head.

You belong in New York, Riley.

Why are you even bothering with Guthrie?

Don’t waste your time on Guthrie.

The lights go up and the applause snaps me back. The audience is going crazy. Dez stands up with a quick wave and shy smile and Homer takes the stage again.

“The next nominated film is from Madison, Wisconsin. Please give a round of applause for
Misguided Youth
by Cody Miller.”

The lights dim again. The various stories take up the screen, but I don’t process any of them.

I don’t like the way things are stacking up. Libby’s accusations, even Stella’s question:
Did Dez find your necklace? He was here.

I now remember seeing Dez’s camera bag backstage, before the festival.

Maybe he
has
been lying to me.

The lights go up and I race out of the auditorium. We don’t have to be back here until the awards ceremony in the morning.

Dez chases me.

“Oh my God, oh my God.” The realization is coming down on me all at once. “What did you do tonight, Dez?”

“What do you mean?” He looks panicked.

“What necklace were you looking for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You told Stella you were looking for my necklace. You were late. And you gave me the wrong time for my audition! What did you do, Dez?”

I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit.

“Calm down, Riley.” Dez holds up his hands. “It’s not what you think.”

I tremble.

“I know it looks bad,” he says. “But I did it for you. All of it.”

All of it? You ruined my clothes and shoes, too?

“You fucked up my entire audition!” I yell. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Riley, you should be concentrating on Tisch, not Guthrie. Can we just get out of here? Go talk?”

I can’t believe my ears. I feel so exposed. Naked. My heart hurts so much I can barely speak. “That wasn’t for
you
to decide, Dez. Who the hell do you think you are?”

I’m too shocked to move or cry or yell or hit or break something. But I want to. In my head, I’m beating on his chest. I’m screaming. I’m bawling my eyes out.

By this time, a crowd is surrounding us. I see Stella out of the corner of my eye, trying to shoo them away.

Dez moves in again. “Let’s go somewhere and talk,” he says urgently. “Let me explain. Please. I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

There’s only one thing to do.

I walk right past him. Right up to Stella. “Think you could give me a ride?” I ask.

Her eyes are warm when she nods. “’Course.” She flings her arm around me. “Let’s get you out of here.”

DEZ

“This is a chemical burn.”

That’s what Tyler Durden says in
Fight Club
as he pours lye on the narrator’s hand. It’s this deeply disturbing part in the movie when Tyler says that without pain and sacrifice, we would have nothing. It’s something I used to believe. Something I now think is complete bullshit. Meanwhile, the narrator’s skin melts right off the bone. Tyler Durden calls it premature enlightenment. He waits until the narrator can’t take it anymore. Then he douses his hand with vinegar to neutralize the burn.

After Riley leaves with Stella, I wonder who will neutralize my burn. Everyone is glaring in my direction—everyone but Tori. She smirks and gives me a fake sympathy pat on the shoulder. Our cast and crew heard the whole thing. I can feel their contempt, disgust, anger, even pity, as well as the silent insults they’re all hurling at me. One after another. As I walk to the guys’ dressing room, everyone looks away and whispers. Even Jonah shakes his head at me.

I am officially scum. Worse than the dog crap you scrape off your shoe.