Second Time Around (35 page)

Vanessa snuggled into the covers and stared at the phone. Her father hadn’t called once since she’d left him in the church, since she’d donated her abortion money to charity. Since she’d decided to keep the baby.

She shook her head. “Keep” was the wrong word. She hadn’t decided to keep the baby, but she had decided to
have
the baby. Big difference.

Big decision.

A decision for another day.

Dawson—1987

Lane was at her locker when her teacher approached.

“Hey, Mr. Dobbins.”

He was grinning. “I have a proposition for you this morning, Lane. You interested?”

“Of course.” Her first thought was that Melissa Peterson had fallen off the face of the earth. Fat chance.

Mr. Dobbins stepped away from prying ears. “As you know, I cast Molly Perkins in the part of the nurse—it’s a good part, a comedic part, the most important female part after Juliet.”

Why is he telling me this?

He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “Anyway, Molly called last night. Her dad’s been transferred to Denver. They’ll be moving in a month. She can’t take the part, so I’m offering it to you.”

Her thoughts collided, but one word emerged from the rubble: “Sure.”

His eyebrows rose. “Really?”

Second thoughts pounced. “Well, maybe.”

“No, no. I take your ‘sure’ as a definite yes. I’m thrilled. I was hoping, but I thought since it’s a smaller…” He shrugged. “I’m proud of you, Lane. Practice starts after school.”

She had a hard time swallowing. “I’ll be there.”

Mr. Dobbins walked away and was immediately replaced by Brandy. “What did Dobbins want?”

Lane was not at all sure how Brandy would react. “Molly Perkins is moving to Denver. He offered me her part. The part of the nurse.”

“The nurse doesn’t even have a name.”

“It’s a good part, Brandy. A funny part.”

“But it’s not
the
part.”

“Unfortunately, Melissa’s not moving anywhere.”

Brandy sighed dramatically, and once again Lane wondered why
she
didn’t get involved in theater. “I suppose it’s doable.”

“At least I’ll be in it.”

“Yeah, well…”

They started walking to class. “I don’t deserve the main part, Brand.”

“Actually, you do. But hey, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Go figure. I guess this means I should work backstage.”

Cool. Very cool. Maybe things would work out after all.

The cast of
Romeo and Juliet
sat in a circle for the first read-through. From experience, Lane knew it wasn’t a time to
act,
it was a time to get to know the words, the rhythm. A necessity, especially with Shakespeare.

Unfortunately, no one had filled Melissa Peterson in on this fact. It was painful to hear her say every line as if it was the climax of a soliloquy. Overacting 101.

And it wasn’t just Lane’s opinion. One by one, the other cast members’ faces contorted in varied levels of pain. If Mr. Dobbins had said, “Tone it down, Melissa,” a dozen times, he’d said it a hundred. How had she ever gotten the part in the first place?

When they took a break, Jason, who’d gotten the part of Romeo, cornered Lane by the water fountain. “Do you hear her? There’s no way I can play against
that.”

Music to Lane’s ears. She took a sip of water, then wiped her mouth. “Can’t help you there, Jas.”

“Why, oh why, didn’t you try out?” It wasn’t a question as much as a scolding.

“Sorry,” she said.

“Maybe we can stage a mutiny? Maybe if we all go to Dobbins and tell him how we feel, he’ll fire Melissa and—”

“You can’t fire someone who isn’t getting paid.”

“Kick her out, then. Anything.”

She’d like nothing better. But no, it wasn’t possible. It was absurd. It—

Jason nodded toward the guys playing Tybalt and Mercutio. “I can get them to join us—as soon as rehearsal is over.”

“No, Jason. Don’t do that.” There was no conviction in her voice.

Mr. Dobbins came into the hall. “Come back, people. There’s work to do.”

And a mutiny to attend.

Jason threw his script to the floor. “Come on, Melissa, cut it out.”

Melissa looked genuinely shocked. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re not doing a melodrama. Take it down a notch.”

Tybalt chimed in. “With a Juliet like that, Romeo would kill himself to be away from her.”

The others laughed.

Melissa turned to their teacher. “Mr. Dobbins, don’t let them say such things.”

“Come on, boys. This is just the first read-through. Everyone needs work.”

“Overworked.”

“Overplayed.”

“Overdone.”

Melissa popped out of her chair, her face red. “If that’s what you think…” She ran from the room.

Lane felt bad but also experienced a warm satisfaction. What next? If they were going to have a mutiny, it was now or never. But no way would she start it. No way.

She didn’t have to. Jason leaned toward the center of the circle of chairs, keeping his voice low. “Actually, Mr. Dobbins, a bunch of us were talking and we wondered if you could let Melissa go. Now that Lane’s with us, let her have the part and let Melissa do the nurse or something.”

Tybalt spoke. “Or let her shine our swords. That would be good.”

Lane watched Mr. Dobbins’s face. With each word, his jaw moved from a twitch to a tight rock. He shook his head. He looked to the floor. Then he looked in her direction. She looked away.

If only they could replay the last few minutes. . . This was a mistake. A huge mistake.

Jason continued. “We all want what’s best for the play. And we all agree Lane would make the best Juliet.”

With a sigh, Mr. Dobbins stood. She felt his eyes. “Lane, do you agree with them?”

At that moment, walking the plank sounded like a good alternative. “I… I’m not going to say a thing.”

Jason stood and pointed at her. “But you said, out in the hall… You agreed with us.”

Lane had a sudden urge to leave. Escape. She stood and gently set her script on her chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I’m sorry.” She ran from the room and, not knowing exactly where she should go, took solace in the rest room.

There, standing at a sink, was Melissa with mascara streaking her cheeks. She whipped her body toward Lane. “You! You arranged all this!”

“No. No, I didn’t.” But she had. If she hadn’t been the one to instigate it, she’d certainly gone along. She
was
guilty. She took a step toward her, but the girl moved away, wetting a paper towel for her cheeks.

“Why did you have to come back? Why couldn’t you just stay away and let someone else have a chance? Ever since the eighth grade you’ve gotten every good part. If Lane Holloway tries out, the rest of the girls don’t need to show up. Or if we do, we know we’ll get the part of the shopkeeper, or the maid, or the best friend. But never the lead. Not until this time. And now you’re trying to take this part away from me, when I won it fair and square.”

Lane had no idea what to say. It was all true.

When she didn’t speak, Melissa flipped a hand at her. “Go on. Go back to the read-through and take my part. Make everybody happy.”

With difficulty, Lane held her ground. She scuffed a shoe against a bobby pin on the floor. “I don’t want the part this way.”

Melissa snickered. “Why didn’t you go to the movie audition? Get that part.”

“I didn’t have a chance at that part.”

“Sure you did. You’re good. Too good for Dawson.”

“Uh… thank you.”

Melissa shrugged and threw away the paper towel. She stood close enough for Lane to see that the eyeliner on her right eye was half gone. When Melissa spoke, her voice was soft. “I want to be a good actress, too.”

“You are good.”
Kinda.

Melissa shook her head. “I try too hard.”

Lane could tell her another lie or… “Good acting flows. Right this minute, neither one of us has to think about acting mad or frustrated or sad, or whatever else we’re feeling. It just
is.
That’s what acting needs to be. You have to lose yourself, forget about what
you
feel at the moment, and let the character feel through you.”

“You make it sound so easy. Like you can flip a switch and turn yourself off.”

“That’s nearly true. You have to flip ‘Melissa’ off, and turn ‘Juliet’ on.”

“But how?”

How did Lane do it? She’d never had to dissect it before. Then she thought of something that might help. “You get to know her. You study Juliet and find out why she does the things she does, why she feels the way she does. And as you do that, you’ll find similar places in yourself. That’s what you draw on, the places where you and Juliet intertwine.”

Melissa was looking past her, deep in thought. Finally, she said, “Thanks. That helped a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” She sidestepped to the door. “Shall we?”

Back in the drama room everyone was leaving. Lane hung back until Mr. Dobbins was free.

He saw her, then started putting the chairs back in rows. “Can I help you?”

She felt relief that he wasn’t yelling at her, but also shame. Her sin was laid out between them. Separating them. And she couldn’t have that. Not with her mentor. “I want to apologize.”