The End of Forever (17 page)

She blinked away tears and began to clear the table, trying to ignore Amy’s chair. It stood empty, yet ready and waiting, as if its former occupant might one day return.

Breathless, Erin slipped into the Briarwood theater back door and hurried to join the people sitting in a semicircle of metal chairs on the brightly lit stage. Her friend, Shara Perez, caught her eye and waved her over to the seat she’d been saving next to her. Ms. Thornton was talking to the group, and Mr. Ault, from the Berkshire drama department, stood beside her.

“Sorry I’m late,” Erin whispered to Shara. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just the usual pep talk,” Shara whispered back. “They’ll start the auditions in a few minutes.”

Erin heard Ms. Thornton saying, “ … going to be a terrific production. Mr. Ault and I will be assigning major roles by Wednesday and passing out a rehearsal schedule on Friday. I expect every one of you to make every rehearsal. If you can’t come to one, you must contact either me or Mr. Ault. Is that clear?”

Erin darted her eyes nervously, feeling as if Ms. Thornton was talking directly to her. Erin knew she had an excellent chance at the lead, but if she missed rehearsals because of the headaches, then Ms. Thornton might not choose her. Only the day
before, during church, another one had come on her, and she’d spent the rest of Sunday in bed because of it.

Mr. Ault stepped forward. “Since this is a cold reading, we’ll pass out the scripts now. Take a few minutes to look them over; then we’ll have everybody break into smaller groups for the principal parts and let you read individually.”

When she’d received her script, Erin asked Shara, “Are you going to read?”

“Don’t have to,” Shara told her. “Ms. Thornton already told me I’ll be the singing voice of Maria. That way the lead only has to be responsible for her lines and the dancing. In fact, most of the parts will have stand-in singers. That way more people can participate.”

“And those of us who can’t carry a tune won’t have to ruin the roles by attempting to sing,” Erin observed “That’s pretty clever of Ms. Thornton.”

Shara smiled. “I thought so, because those of us who can’t dance won’t have to worry about falling on our faces.”

Pinky, a senior and a pixie-sized girl with black hair and a fiery Spanish personality, read for the part of Anita, the leader of the Puerto Rican girls. Erin’s palms began to sweat because the reading for Maria was next, and by now she had her heart set on the part.

Erin read a scene, and when she was finished, Mr. Ault said, “I want you to try another one. But this time I want you to interact with the male lead.”
He studied the group of boys who’d come forward for Tony.

Erin did too. One guy was particularly attractive, tall and lean with straight chestnut-colored hair and sexy smoke-colored eyes. She glanced at Shara, who gave a discreet thumbs-up gesture. All at once Erin realized that doing the play might be more fun than she’d originally thought.

Mr. Ault said, “David, come give this a try.”

The dark-haired boy moved aside, and another one stepped forward, one not nearly so handsome. Erin judged him only about an inch or two taller than herself. His blond hair was tousled, a bit too long, hanging over his eyebrows in front and brushing his collar in the back. His eyes were bright blue, and they sparkled with mischief. He was wearing baggy checkered Bermuda shorts and a flamboyant floral-print shirt, socks that sagged and torn tennis shoes. Erin stared. Surely Mr. Ault was joking!

“Hi. I’m David Devlin,” he said as he stood in front of her, offering a grin that lit up his face. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl this side of paradise city?”

Erin felt her mouth drop open and color creep up her neck.

“Uh—Erin? Do you want to get on with the reading, please?” Ms. Thornton’s voice penetrated her trance. Totally flustered, Erin fumbled with the pages and dropped the script. The onlookers shuffled. David stooped, retrieved her booklet, and
handed it back with another disarming smile. Erin took an instant dislike to David Devlin.

She snatched the booklet, found her place, and read the lines stiffly. David’s expression grew serious as he fell into the character of Tony with amazing skill. At the end of the scene, Mr. Ault called, “Good job. You want to try it, Andy?”

Another boy came forward, and after he read, Mr. Ault sent in another one. Seth—Mr. Smoky Gray Eyes—read last with her. Other girls did the scene with each of the boys, and finally it was over.

“Okay, take a break,” Ms. Thornton directed.

Shara hurried over to Erin. “You’re a cinch,” she said. “I saw Ms. Thornton and Mr. Ault taking notes the whole time.”

Erin did several leg stretches and bend-overs to relieve the tension that had collected in her muscles. “Well, I certainly hope that they don’t pick that David idiot to be the male lead,” she said.

“Why not?” Shara said. “I think he’s sort of cute. Not knock-you-out-cute, but adorable cute.”

“So are three-year-olds, but I don’t want to be in a play with one.”

“As an objective bystander, allow me to tell you that he gave the best reading.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Just my luck.” She took a chair to one side while activity buzzed around her and voices echoed in the cavernous theater. Beyond the lights the stage and seats were swallowed up by darkness. The wooden stage floor looked dusty, and the scrim curtain swayed slightly with a draft.

An unexplainable sense of loneliness descended
on her. She stared at the others, feeling distant and removed. She loved the theater because she loved to dance, but she’d never wanted to be an actress. It had been her sister Amy who’d had greasepaint in her blood. Amy should be reading for a part. If only …

“I meant it when I said you’re beautiful.”

David Devlin’s voice intruded into Erin’s thoughts, and she looked up to see him standing beside her. “Just drop it,” she told him sourly.

Instead he dragged a chair over and plopped down beside her. “So you’re a dancer. I’m an actor. At least that’s what I intend to be. Broadway and everything.”

“Does that mean you can’t dance?” she asked. “You can’t take the male lead if you can’t dance, you know.”

“I can shuffle along,” he said. “ ’Course I’m not a pro, but I’ve taken classes before. Still, I’m a better actor than dancer, and I can sing. How about you?”

She ignored his question, saying, “You talk like you’ve already landed the part. You’re not the only one trying out.” To make her point Erin inclined her head toward Seth. She also hoped to convey to David that she found Seth a lot more appealing than she did him.

“He’s decent,” David said. “But I’m going to be playing Tony.”

His attitude irritated her. “You’ll excuse me if I cheer for the other guy.”

David laughed. “You’re orettv sure you’re
going to get Maria, aren’t you? What’s the difference?”

“I—I am not sure at all,” Erin stammered.

“Then why didn’t you read for any other part?”

Disarmed by his logic, Erin was seething. “Well if you’re a ‘sure thing’ for Tony, then I guess I should have read for another part.” She stood, dropping her script.

David scooped it up. “You gotta learn to hang onto this thing, Erin.”

Intent on brushing him off, Erin spun, only to have the back of her heel catch on the rung of the metal chair. It clanked and clattered and would have fallen if David hadn’t reached out to steady it. “For a dancer you’re a little clumsy,” he teased. “Still gorgeous, however.”

She couldn’t think of a snappy put-down, and she considered throwing her script at him. Instead, she stalked off while he called, “See you on Friday, ‘Maria.”’

“If he gets the part, I’ll quit.” Erin shoved dance gear into her duffel bag in the girls locker room while Shara watched.

“Boy, I haven’t seen you this worked up since Travis Sinclair took Cindy Pitzer to last year’s Spring Fling dance.”

“That was different,” Erin snapped. “Amy was comatose, and that creep was dating someone else while he was supposed to be Amy’s boyfriend. I hated him then, and I still do.” She glared at Shara for making her remember. “I dislike David Devlin for entirely different reasons,” she said.

Shara opened her locker and took out an apple. “Then you’d better consider quitting. According to the other guys at tryouts, he’s the best. He wins every forensic competition and placed second in state in drama as a junior last year.”

“What are you, a reporter?”

“I just asked a few questions, that’s all. Besides, what better way to get to know Seth? Remember, the one with the sexy eyes?”

So Shara was interested in Seth. Erin hid her disappointment, saying, “No. They all seemed alike to me.”

Shara buffed the apple on her shirt. “What’s with you anyway, Erin? You’re always snarling at people, and you’re negative about everything. I was hoping that this play would be something fun we could do together.”

“Nothings wrong with me. I just happen to think David Devlin is a jerk, that’s all.”

“I don’t think so,” Shara countered. “Afterwards, after you stormed off, we were all getting acquainted and talking, and David had us in stitches imitating teachers at Berkshire. I laughed until I was crying, and I don’t even
know
the teachers at Berkshire.” Shara chuckled. “I can still picture him.”

Exasperated, Erin slammed her locker door shut. “That sounds so juvenile. I wouldn’t want to be a part of
ragging
on teachers. My fathers a teacher here, remember?”

“Well, if we’re all going to be in this play together, then you’d better join in. It’s going to take all of us working like crazy to bring it off.”

Erin realized Shara was right. She’d been in enough dance productions over the years to know how much hard work went into them. “We’ve got a couple of months, so there’s plenty of time to get to know everybody.” She zipped up her bag. A knot of tension had gathered at the base of her neck.

“The sooner, the better,” Shara said. “I like the music, don’t you?”

Erin was relieved that Shara had changed the subject and was forgetting their earlier disagree
ment. She didn’t mean to argue with her friend. “Yeah, it’s good music.”

Shara broke into the words from the song “Tonight” and whirled around the locker room, her soprano voice echoing off the empty walls.

Erin listened to Shara’s beautiful voice. It reminded her of springtime, and suddenly she imagined dandelion seeds floating above Amy’s casket. A dull ache began to inch its way up her neck and lodge in the back of her head. “Be careful, or you’ll fall down,” she said to Shara.

Shara stopped twirling, then reached out and steadied herself on the bank of lockers. “Whoa! You’re right. How do dancers twirl around and not get dizzy?”

The ache had spread to her forehead, and her eyes began to hurt. She rubbed them. “You have to focus on an object and every time you turn, you have to make sure you come back to that object.”

“I guess that’s why I sing,” Shara said with a shrug. “Less danger of falling over.”

Erin dropped to a bench. She began to see pinwheels of color, and the throbbing increased in her temples.

“Hey, you okay?” Shara asked. “You look white as a sheet.”

“Did you drive your car today?”

“No, Dad dropped me off on his way to make hospital rounds. What’s wrong, Erin? Another headache?”

Erin never tried to keep the headaches a secret
from her friend. Her parents had asked Dr. Perez for the names of specialists to treat her when the headaches had first started. “It came on real sudden.”

“You want me to drive you home in your car?”

“Could you, please?”

Shara quickly gathered up their things. “Do you have your pills with you? Maybe you should take some.”

“Yes, you’re right.” Pain stymied her. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She found the pills, took two without water, and leaned against the lockers. Her breath was shallow. “I wish it didn’t hurt so bad.”

“Your doctors still haven’t found what’s causing them?”

“Not yet.” By now Erin was feeling sick to her stomach. She gripped Shara’s hand and allowed her friend to lead her out of the gym. Outside, the late-afternoon light stabbed at her eyeballs like hot needles.

“This isn’t right, Erin,” Shara muttered. “You can’t go on this way. How are you ever going to do the play—”

Erin dug her nails into the blond girl’s palm.
“Please,
don’t say a word to Ms. Thornton, Shara, okay? Not one word.”

“You know I won’t. But I can’t stand to see you hurting like this.”

“I want that part, Shara. And I’m not going to let these stupid headaches stop me.” She was dizzy
now and very nauseous. She braced herself on the car while Shara fumbled with the key.

“Even if you have to play opposite David Devlin?” Shara asked shakily.

Erin tried to nod, but every movement sent fresh waves of agony shooting through her head. “Even that,” she whispered, falling across the seat as the door opened.

“You need to think of your headaches as a
friend,
Erin,” Dr. Richardson said Thursday afternoon in her office.