Authors: Jo Whittemore
D Is for Drama (22 page)
Stefan walked up to a mustached man seated front and center. He stood when we drew closer and smiled.
“Sunny,” said Stefan, “this is Marcus Kramer, director of the STARS program. Mr. Kramer, this is the actress/director extraordinaire I've been telling you about.” He grinned at me.
Mr. Kramer extended his hand, and I almost tripped over the woman sitting beside him trying to reach it.
“
So
nice to meet you, sir,” I said.
“The privilege is all mine,” he said. “Stefan's been filling me in on how this performance came to be, and I understand you were instrumental in it.”
I bit my lip shyly. “We all were, sir,” I said. “Even him.” I nodded to Stefan.
Mr. Kramer chuckled. “That's very humble of you. I look forward to watching you act, especially since we have a last-minute opening to fill.”
“Really?” My heart skipped a beat . . . but then his words sank in, and I frowned. “Is it because of Ilana Rourke, sir?”
Mr. Kramer started in surprise. “Why . . . yes. As you know, we only accept quality applicants.”
My forehead wrinkled. What did quality have to do with Ilana not having money? “Sorry, sir?”
“Apparently, she was only an understudy for the role she's playing tonight,” said Stefan. “She lucked into this part.”
Wow.
Three weeks ago, I would have laughed and done my best to impress Mr. Kramer. But now . . .
“Sir, I think there's been a misunderstanding,” I said. “Ilana is a
great
actress. And she didn't even try for the starring role this year because . . . ” I squeezed my hands together, hoping one last lie wouldn't kill me. “Because she wanted to share the theater experience and not hog the spotlight.”
Stefan gave me a look, but Mr. Kramer raised an eyebrow. “That's very admirable.”
I nodded. “She'd be an asset to your program, sir. I think you should keep her.”
Stefan rubbed his temple and stared daggers at me. I knew what he was thinking . . . I'd just blown a chance at STARS.
“Well, thank you for that honest insight, Ms. Kim,” said Mr. Kramer.
I smiled politely. “You're welcome. Excuse me, I have a show to start.” With an apologetic look at Stefan, I gathered my dress and turned away.
“Not so fast,” Mom's voice sounded from over my shoulder.
I spun around and practically tripped over the poor woman next to Mr. Kramer again. Mom and Grandma had been sitting two seats away, and I hadn't even noticed!
“You should meet the agent I was telling you about,” said Mom. She gestured to the woman beside Mr. Kramer.
Of course.
“Sorry!” In my flustered state, I attempted to curtsy. “How do you do. Sunny Kim.”
“Evelyn Kramer,” she said, offering me her hand.
I took it and hesitated in confusion. “Kramer?”
Mr. Kramer leaned over. “My wife. Show business is a small world,” he said with a wink.
I laughed and curtsied again, being sure to give Mrs. Kramer her hand back. “Well, it's very nice to meet you.
And if you'll excuse me, there are people on
stage
waiting for me to trip over them, too.”
Everyone laughed, and Mr. Kramer put a hand on my arm.
“Ms. Kim, we're also looking for talented directors,” he said. “If you know any . . . ” He let the comment hang in the air.
I smiled shyly. “We'll see.”
As I walked off, I heard him tell Stefan, “Yes, we will.”
The rest of the cast were already waiting in a circle when I finally made it backstage.
“Everybody ready?” I asked.
“To throw up?” asked Suresh. “Yes.”
“We're going to be fine,” I said.
I stepped between Bree and Derek and grabbed their hands. Everyone else followed suit. I could almost feel the floor shaking with our nervous energy.
“Remember,” I said. “We're all average people. Except for those two.” I pointed to Anne Marie's green face and Max's goat horns.
We all laughed.
“Do your best, and I'll be so proud,” I said. “Let's bow our heads.”
Every head went down and I said a quick prayer. When
it was over, I squeezed Bree and Derek's hands and stepped out of the circle.
“Places, please,” I said. “It's almost showtime.”
Kyle approached with a head mic and I clipped it over my ear. While everyone else moved into position, I slipped through the curtain and walked to center stage. There was a loud click from overhead, followed by a blinding spotlight, and I blinked to adjust my eyes.
A sea of faces stared back at me. Even though I'd seen most of them before, they were way more intimidating when I was in a ballgown and not a potato sack.
“Hello,” I said to the crowd.
“Hi, pretty lady!” a child's voice shrieked from somewhere near the back.
Everyone in the audience laughed, and so did I.
“Nice. Can I take you with me everywhere?” I asked the unseen child.
The audience laughed again.
“My name is Sunny Kim,” I said. “And I'm Galinda, the future Good Witch of the North.”
From all around me speakers crackled and boomed. At first I thought it was
my
microphone until a voice that wasn't mine spoke.
“She's also our director,” the voice said. It sounded suspiciously like Suresh.
I giggled nervously and shrugged at the audience. “Wellâ”
There was a scuffling sound over the speakers.
“And she took a chance on us when nobody else would!” Max shouted into the mic, even though I could hear him plainly without it.
“Dude!” said Suresh's voice. “Stop stealing my thunder.”
“Please,” said Max. “Like you're not gonna get enough attention in those tight pants.”
I sighed and stared at the ceiling, but the audience just laughed.
There was another scuffling sound, followed by a whispery voice.
“Let her finish so we can start the show!” Bree's voice came from above.
“Thank you!” I shouted over my shoulder. I turned back to the audience with a broad smile. “Anyway, this first show is about appreciating the differences in everyone.”
My eyes scanned the audience and stopped on a certain face in the crowd . . . Grandma's. She smiled, and I felt emotion tug at my throat. “Some of them you don't see as
gifts at first,” I said, glancing to the stage exit where Kyle was watching, “but if you add a little spit and polish, you really see them shine.”
I paused and held up a finger. “And for the record, I didn't actually spit on anyone.”
The audience laughed again, and it sounded so wonderful echoing off the walls. There was much more I wanted to say, about the struggles we'd gone through and the fears we were fighting just to be on that stage.
But the story wasn't all mine to tell. Behind the heavy velvet curtain waited a crowd of talented and underappreciated actors, eager to share their voices.
It was time to let them speak.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said, the curtain creeping open behind me, “the Melodramatics of Carnegie Arts Academy are proud to be . . .
Wicked
.”
The orchestra blasted the opening chords over thunderous applause, and I ran offstage to let the show begin.
THE END
Jo Whittemore
is the author of
Front Page Face-Off and Odd Girl In,
both with Aladdin M!X. She currently lives in Texas and is an active member of the Texas Sweethearts, a group of Texas-based children's book writers that makes appearances at panels and conferences throughout the country.
Meet the author, watch videos, and get extras at
KIDS.SimonandSchuster.com
If you liked
D Is for Drama
, then you'll love Odd
Girl In.
ALSO BY JO WHITTEMORE
Front Page Face-Off
Odd Girl In
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN M!X
Simon & Schuster Children's Publishing Division
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Aladdin M!X edition August 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Jo Whittemore
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
ALADDIN is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc., and related logo is a registered trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
ALADDIN M!X and related logo are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
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.
Designed by Hilary Zarycky
Cover designed by Jessica Handelman
Cover illustration copyright © 2012 by Lucy Truman Ages
The text of this book was set in Berkeley Old Style.
Library of Congress Control Number 2012938568
ISBN 978-1-4424-4152-1
ISBN 978-1-4424-4153-8 (eBook)
