Act 2 (Jack & Louisa) (13 page)

“
I happen to be entertaining a very prominent guest tonight. I think you might have heard of him
,” Adam said in a thick, nasally voice.
“I would like you to meet Big Jule from Chicago.”
He gestured over to a spot onstage where a tough-looking Tanner was supposed to be standing.

Instead, Tanner was goofing off in the wings, trying to make the Hot Box Girls laugh by stuffing a pillow under his soccer jersey. Lou, ever alert, pushed him onstage, the pillow still spilling out the bottom of his shirt.

“Well, look at you,” Belinda guffawed.

“Haha, yeah sorry, I forgot I was in this scene,”
Tanner mumbled, red-faced.

“Oh, don’t worry, honey.” Belinda giggled. “We still have more than a month left to rehearse.”

Even though my scolding sessions with Belinda were becoming more and more frequent, I was at least able to find comfort in the fact that the soccer boys were being nice to me. And they were pretty good in the show, too. While their singing left a little to be desired, and their accents wandered from New York to Alabama to Great Britain and back again, their energy onstage was infectious. They worked like a team, slapping each other’s backs and hamming it up. It was hard to imagine that just a few short weeks ago these guys were scary to me. One afternoon Coach Wilson popped in as we rehearsed “The Oldest Established,” a song that involved me being lifted up and flipped over the soccer boys’ shoulders. As the song drew to a close, I stepped forward to begin the dialogue back into the scene.

“Gentlemen, do not worry.
Nathan Detroit’s crap game will float again.”

“Stop!” Belinda cried out from the front row.
The room went silent. “Jack, I can’t hear a word you’re saying!”

The boys turned and shielded their eyes from the lights, looking out into the audience.

“I know on Broadway you’re used to having microphones and amplification, but here in Shaker Heights I’m going to need you to PRO-JECT!” she yelled.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “You got it.”

“See? Even now,” Belinda said, flinging her hands in the air. “I need you to SPEAK. UP.”

My face got hot. I tried to hide my frustration. I wasn’t an idiot. I understood the need to be heard, but wouldn’t I seem like a crazy person if I just shouted every line at the top of my lungs?

“YES, MA’AM,” I said in my most resonant stage voice.

“Thank you,” she said, taking a seat in the squeaky auditorium chair. “Once again from the top . . . for Jack.”

As we got back into place I looked at the guys, but they avoided my gaze, not wanting to be associated with the kid who’d messed up, again. I peered out into the audience, where Coach Wilson was leaning over to Belinda, whispering something
in her ear. She looked directly at me and gave a dry laugh, swatting him away. Mr. Hennessy began plunking the intro as Coach Wilson got up to leave. Just before exiting, he turned and gave me a little salute, an apologetic look in his eyes.

Oh, but the worst thing? The thing that made the experience all the more frustrating? Even though I was miserable, Lou could not have been happier. Belinda doted on her like a proud stage mom, throwing compliments like roses and clapping extra hard after every one of her songs. We’d do scenes where Belinda would laugh after every Adelaide joke but sit there stone-faced through all my Nathan punch lines.

I’d show up early and ready to work but immediately get yelled at.

“You know, for a guy with multiple Broadway credits, you really ought to remember to bring a highlighter to rehearsal.”

Meanwhile Lou would stroll in and be congratulated for something like, I don’t know,
remembering to breathe oxygen
.

I began feeling that emotion I hated, that
toxic green blob that I could feel in my stomach. It was something I’d felt a few times for people back in New York but never toward my best friend: jealousy.

“You hangin’ in there?” Lou asked me after rehearsal one day. “It seems like Belinda’s pretty tough on you.”

“No, it’s fine,” I replied.

“Really?” Lou asked.

“Yes, really,” I replied. “Just leave it, Lou.”

Lou looked at me for a few more seconds, and then shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, if you say so.”

Of course it wasn’t fine, but how could I expect Lou to understand when she was having the time of her life?

I’d been managing to keep it all together until exhaustion got the better of me toward the end of our fourth week. I’d been up the night before studying for a science test.

We began blocking the scene before Lou’s big number, “Adelaide’s Lament.” Lou and I set our scripts down on the edge of the stage.

“I couldn’t be engaged for fourteen years, could
I?”
Lou squeaked in her perfected Adelaide voice.
“People don’t do that in Rhode Island. They all get married.”

A raspy laugh heaved from the audience, obviously Belinda’s.

I cocked my head and delivered my next line.
“Then how come it’s such a tiny state?”

Lou wasn’t even able to get her next line out because the sound of Belinda’s voice rang through the auditorium like a fire alarm.

“Stop!” The room went deadly quiet. “Jack, the line isn’t ‘
Then how come it’s such a tiny state?
’” Belinda said stiffly. “It’s ‘
Then why is it such a small state?
’”

“Oh,” I replied quietly, “yeah, sorry.”

Belinda scowled at me, a fiery look shooting from her eyes.

“Louisa, hon, would you mind taking five?” Belinda said with a big fake smile.

“Um, sure,” Lou said, looking over at me hesitantly as she walked to the wings.

“Jack, can I speak with you downstage?” Belinda said firmly.

What now?
I wondered as I trudged forward. Belinda took a deep breath.

“What’s going on with you, Jack? Your focus is really off, and I worry we’re not on the same page. I’m doing this for you,” she said with earnest. “So I can get the best work out of you. I can’t be the only one invested.”

But I didn’t believe her anymore. I didn’t know why she was treating me this way, but I knew that we were definitely not on the same page.

“I’m sorry,” I said, staring down at my dress shoes. “I’ll do it better the next time.”

“You know, it’s always the
next time
with you,” Belinda said, narrowing her eyes. “The
next time
you’ll say it right. The
next time
you’ll pick up your cues. I’m not sure what kind of directors you’ve worked with on Broadway, but the
next time
doesn’t get you very far; it gets you fired.”

A list of angry questions began to form in my head. Why was Sebastian allowed to call “line” every three minutes, but I’d get a tongue-lashing for rephrasing one tiny bit of dialogue? Why could Bridget perform an entire scene facing upstage, yet if I did it once, I’d be told off? Most of all: Why did Lou have to tell Belinda about my Broadway past? I cringed every time Belinda brought it up, knowing it would probably be used to emphasize a stupid
mistake I’d made. Why couldn’t I have just been another theater-loving local? But I didn’t say any of these things. I just let her words gush over me like hot tar.

“All right, take five, kiddo,” Belinda said, glancing at her wrist. “I’d suggest you spend that time rereading your script.”

I didn’t even wait for her to finish speaking before charging offstage and into the wings.

“Jack,” I heard Lou call from behind me.

“What?!” I said loudly, not even bothering to turn and look at her.

“Whoa,” she replied. “You okay? You seem kind of upset.”

“Oh really?!” I shot back, whipping around to face her. “I’m glad you’re noticing all the things wrong with me, too.”

“What are you talking about?” Lou said, taking a step back. “I was just seeing if you were okay. You don’t need to yell at me.”

“Do I look okay?” I shrieked. “Ever since the stupid auditions, this show has been nothing but torture.”

Lou looked completely surprised.

“It doesn’t matter what I do, it’s never good enough,” I said, crossing my arms tight. “And not only that, but Belinda seems to feel the need to let everyone in our cast know about it.”

Lou crossed her arms defensively. She opened her mouth to say something, but I cut her off.

“I hope you realize this is all your
fault.”

-LOUISA-

“All
my
fault?”

I stared at Jack in disbelief. I was so mad. Was he serious? “What do you mean, all
my
fault?!”

Jack took a step toward me, angrily spitting out his words.

“That first day we met Belinda, you had to be all
‘Jack was in this Broadway show, and that Broadway show . . . Jack’s so amazing, Jack, Jack Jack . . .’
You made me her target. And all she’s cared about ever since is putting me in my place.”

Jack was angrier than I’d ever seen him. Even more startling was that he was directing that anger at me.

“I wasn’t trying to make you her ‘target,’” I sputtered. “I just wanted her to know that you’d been on Broadway, too!”

“Well, thanks a lot. She’s done everything she can to use that against me.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how differently she acts toward me than she does toward everyone else,” Jack said, his face reddening. “I know you have.”

The way he glared at me made me feel sick to my stomach. I did not want to be fighting with my friend, certainly not in the middle of rehearsing a show where we were playing opposite each other.

“Well, sure, I’ve noticed, sort of,” I conceded, “but every time I’ve asked you if you’re okay, you’ve said yes—”

“And every time I’ve said yes, you’ve looked relieved, so you can go back to being Belinda’s ‘perfect Adelaide’ while I can go back to being her punching bag.”

“You are not her punching bag!” I protested, though I suspected that nothing I said at this point was going to help.

“You’re right, I’m her ‘star quarterback.’” Jack rolled his eyes in disgust.

“What?”

The sick feeling in my stomach was suddenly replaced by a tightening in my chest.

“Nothing—it’s not even true,” Jack said. I could tell he was holding something back.

“No,” I pressed him, “what are you talking about?”

He wouldn’t look at me. “I don’t believe her, but she told me she was going to hold me to a higher standard,” he muttered. “She says that’s why she’s being so hard on me.”

Now
I
started to feel angry.

“Because you’re
so
much better than the rest of us?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“So then why
is
she treating you differently?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask her to—
you
did!”

Through clenched teeth I fought back, “Some of us might love it if Belinda held us to a ‘higher standard.’”

“Oh gimme a break!” Jack said, his frustration mounting. “Belinda is obsessed with everything you do! Trust me, you don’t want her ‘special’
treatment. All I feel is like the harder I work, the meaner she gets. So I’m working really hard for nothing. It’s just . . . not worth it anymore.”

His words hung in the air while I registered what he’d just said.

“Are you going to quit?” I asked, dreading his answer.

“Maybe.”

Without thinking, I shot back, “You like to threaten that a lot, don’t you?”

As soon as I said it I knew I’d gone too far. I might as well have slapped him in the face.

“Break’s over! We’re back!” Belinda called from the audience.

Jack looked past me toward the stage, his eyes filling.

“This is completely different from
Into the Woods
, and you know it,” he said quietly, then marched past me, leaving me alone in the wings.

Thankfully, Belinda wanted to move on to the first Sky/Sarah scene after the break, so she dismissed the rest of the cast for the day. As Sebastian and Bridget shyly took their places
onstage to rehearse their love duet, “I’ll Know,” Jack bolted out of the auditorium as fast as he could. Clearly he wanted to avoid any more contact with me—or with anyone, for that matter. To be honest, I wasn’t ready to have any more contact with him—I felt so ashamed of what I’d said.

Even though it was cold out, the air was dry and crisp and I decided to walk home. I needed some time alone to think.

Had Belinda really been that awful to Jack?
I asked myself as I marched through the cold, the tips of my fingers growing numb under my backpack straps. I felt ashamed all over again as I revisited every compliment, every cheer of encouragement that Belinda had given me over the past few weeks, and realized that I had not once heard her extend the same praise to Jack. I had obviously been too busy enjoying her attention and trying to be the perfect Adelaide to notice that the only feedback Jack received from Belinda was critical. Even though I was initially stung by the idea of Belinda holding Jack to a higher standard than me, I started to wonder whether Jack was right when he said that he didn’t believe her. But if she was lying, then what was the
real
reason behind her behavior?

Aside from his professional background, I couldn’t think of one thing that would have compelled Belinda to be so tough on him. Jack had worked really hard on his material; he was always prepared and ready to work. Everyone in the cast liked him; he’d been so helpful to them, particularly during the dance call . . .

The dance call.

With Jack’s words ringing in my ears, I now suddenly remembered it in a different way. Belinda’s face. The smile that looked so fake. The way she clapped harder than anyone else when the soccer boys were able to do the combination after Jack had broken down the moves for them. Like she was covering for something. And then there was our secret conversation by the piano, when Belinda told me she wanted me to audition with the other boys. If she had, in fact, been trying to put Jack in his place, then making him watch his best friend audition with his competition would have definitely sent a strong message. The more I thought about it, the more things came into focus. Suddenly a new picture of Belinda began to form in my head. A former theater star of Shaker Heights, a woman used to being seen as special for her talent
and her Broadway resume, was suddenly forced to share the spotlight. And her sassy comments about Jack’s experiences on Broadway, the way she’d singled him out, the way she’d embarrassed him in front of the cast . . . everything started to make a lot more sense. As I turned onto my street, I walked briskly past my house toward a more important destination.

“Belinda’s jealous of you.”

I stood on Jack’s front porch, shivering like crazy but determined to fix things between us.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

Jack motioned for me to come inside, then crossed his arms, waiting for me to say more.

“I walked all the way here from school, and I thought about what you said, and you’re right—Belinda’s been totally unfair. But it’s because she’s jealous of you.”

It all seemed so obvious now, and so ugly. I’d just been too busy vying for Belinda’s approval to notice. I’d really wanted her to like me, because I’d really liked her.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but I wasn’t finished.

“And I’m sorry that I was the one who started it all. I’m also
really
sorry for the other stuff I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Jack said, uncrossing his arms, “for blaming you. You said it yourself—Belinda would have found out that I’ve been on Broadway eventually.” He paused. “And it’s not your fault that she’s been nice to you. I mean, she should be nice to you.”

“Yeah, well, she should be nice to you, too,” I said.

“You really think she’s jealous of me?”

“I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

“I know.”

“Huh.” Jack scratched the back of his neck.

“What?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to talk about it, but . . .”

Jack proceeded to tell me about his private talk with Belinda, in which she’d basically told him to keep his mouth shut and let her be in charge. His story made me furious.

“You should have told me,” I said once he was
finished. “She was obviously trying to scare you.”

“Well, it worked,” Jack admitted. “She made me feel like I’d done something wrong, and I was too embarrassed to talk about it. I thought if I could just get the part of Nathan and work really hard, she’d leave me alone.”

“But she didn’t,” I said, wanting desperately to give Jack a much-needed hug.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, then looked at me in earnest.

“I don’t want to ruin the show for you, Lou.”

“You won’t,” I said adamantly, “but you might if you
quit
the show . . .”

Jack sighed.

“I’ll give it some more time. Now that I know I can talk to you about it . . . I dunno, maybe it’ll be easier to deal with her.”

“You can talk to me whenever you want,” I said, finally going in for the hug. We squeezed each other hard, then broke apart as Jack looked toward the kitchen. Whatever Mrs. Goodrich was making smelled delicious. “Hey—do you want to stay for dinner?” he asked. “Mom’s making mulligatawny stew—it’s really good. There’s a lot of curry in it.”

“Yeah, let me call my parents,” I said, hugely relieved that we weren’t fighting anymore. “I’d love to stay.”

I spent the next day at school feeling nervous. Now that I had figured out the reason behind the Belinda/Jack conflict, would I be able to focus in rehearsal? Was there anything I could do to protect him? Maybe make some mistakes myself so she’d come after me instead of him? I just didn’t know how I was going to react if and when Belinda decided to attack.

At three o’clock, as Jack and I approached the doors to the auditorium, I was feeling super tense. Jack must have sensed it, because he turned to me and said, “Relax, Lou. Belinda’s not going to hack me to pieces with an ax or anything. She’s just going to make me feel like an idiot.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said, nodding aggressively. Jack eyed me warily.

“Honestly, Lou, chill out,” he said, opening the door for me. “This is my problem, not yours. Just ignore her if she comes after me. Promise?”

I kept nodding and forced myself to take a deep
breath as I entered the auditorium.

“
It’s 3:01, people!
” shouted Belinda, pacing back and forth across the stage like a bedazzled panther. She wore black jeggings and a baggy black sweatshirt with a sequined top hat and cane embroidered on the front.

“We’ve been rehearsing for a month, and we still haven’t run all of Act One, so let’s get a move on! Everyone who’s in Act One, Scene Six—get up here now to review!”