Finding June (3 page)

“Oh. My. Gosh. June, if you meet him, I’m
going to be so jealous. What if you guys date or something?” she
asked, sounding as serious as she was about her Joseph
obsession.

“I’m pretty sure June has enough common sense
not to date someone whose greatest accomplishment is being seen at
a different bar every night with his latest bimbo,” Joseph said
defensively.

“Maybe he’s not drinking in the bars,” I said
dreamily, getting a faraway look in my eyes. “He just likes the
atmosphere.”

“And those girls could be related to him,”
Xani added, matching my dreamy tone.

“I give up,” Joseph sighed. “You guys are
hopeless and blinded by his ‘good looks’,” he said, putting air
quotes around the last two words.

“Well, if I get the part we’ll just see who’s
right,” I said challengingly to Joseph as the bell rang for us to
go to English.

*****

English seemed to creep by the whole time we
were in class. We were talking about persuasive essays and I knew I
should be paying attention, but all I could think about was my
audition. After English we’d have a fifteen minute break and then
I’d only have to sit through half of math before Gran picked me up
from school to drive to LA. Today was kind of a bad day to be
picked up early since it was a "testing day" and I would only have
half a math class before meeting in the cafeteria to take an AP
English prep test. But like Gran said, I had to make sacrifices for
my art, right?

All through English my foot kept bouncing up
and down frantically, shaking my desk and making a rattling noise I
was sure annoyed everyone. Joseph kept shooting me glances to
remind me to calm down and breathe, but it was proving to be a very
difficult task. After about two hours of foot bobbing and irritated
looks from everyone in the room, the bell finally rang for
break.

“You’re lucky the class didn’t stage a coup,”
Joseph said with a smirk as we walked back to our little grassy
area. Xani was already there, waiting for us anxiously . . . well,
waiting for Joseph, anyway.

“I can’t help it,” I exclaimed, “I’m so
nervous about the audition . . . and excited . . . but mostly
nervous.”

“June, you’re a really good actress and they
handpicked you to audition. I’m pretty sure they already know they
want to cast you; they just have to go through the process. Don’t
worry, you’re definitely going to get it,” he replied warmly, his
chocolate brown eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiled at me.

“Thanks Joseph,” I said seriously. I loved
him for always knowing exactly how to clam me down. That’s what
best friends were for.

For the rest of break I went over audition
tactics in my head while Joseph stared at the ground uncomfortably
and Xani leaned over him. She was talking about the homecoming
dance that was coming up in just two weeks and dropping hints like
her life depended on it. Joseph nodded every once in a while,
trying to look interested without encouraging any more physical
closeness. This only made Xani scoot closer to him and rest her
hand on his knee, turning Joseph’s face a bright red for the
remainder of our break.

When the bell rang Xani scuttled off to
class, leaving Joseph and me alone. He turned to me seriously and
put his hands on my shoulders so that our brown eyes were locked on
each other.

“June, you’re going to kill this audition,
all right? Don’t worry about anything. Just be yourself and they’ll
love you,” he said evenly. “And remember not to agree to anything
sleazy just so you can meet Lukas Leighton,” he added as a humorous
afterthought, though I wasn’t sure how much of his warning was a
joke and how much of it he really meant.

“Joseph, I wouldn’t,” I said, slightly
offended. He just smiled and pulled me into a tight hug.

“Knock ‘em dead, June.”

CHAPTER 3

The car ride to the audition only seemed to
take ten minutes, though in reality about forty minutes had passed
since Gran picked me up from school. We both stood outside of the
office building for a moment, staring up at the looming structure
in silent awe.

“This is it, Bliss,” she said with a slow
nod. “Take it in, because this is the moment your life changes
forever.”

“Only if I get the part, Gran,” I reminded
her.

“Details,” she muttered as we walked into the
office.

After filling out some paperwork and reading
old magazines for a good ten minutes, the receptionist came out
from a back room and said, “Mr. Hill will see you now.” It made me
feel like I was at the dentist office and brought my anxiety up a
few notches. Gran gave me an encouraging nod as I made my way
shakily back into a large office with a long desk in it. Four
people and a fifth man with a small video camera on a tripod sat
behind the desk, staring at me. The man in the center was slightly
overweight, the buttons on his white shirt straining with the
effort of staying closed. Nevertheless, he looked well put
together. The other two men at the table were dressed in a similar
fashion, button-up collared shirts and slacks. A woman sat to the
left of the man in the center. She wore her blonde hair pulled back
into a French twist, her deep purple silk top bringing out the
green in her eyes. It was obvious she was trying to look
professional and sexless so that she could compete in this
industry. The man with the video camera looked like a film student.
He had an artsy appearance that tried to look unintentional even
though you knew every article of clothing he was wearing was
carefully planned out to give him an indie air.

I walked up to the desk and placed my
headshot and resume in front of them before walking back to the
neon pink tape mark that had been placed on the floor for me. The
people behind the desk all silently scanned my resume while I stood
there awkwardly. Normally I would slate for the camera, which means
I would say my name and what agency I was with, but they weren’t
looking at me, so I figured I’d wait until they gave me the
go-ahead.

I stood there for what seemed like hours,
trying to look like I was calm and collected even though my legs
felt like Jell-O and my palms were sweating like a
fourteen-year-old boy at a stake dance during a slow song. Finally
the group looked up from my resume and gave me a once-over.

“All right June, can you please slate to the
camera?” said the man sitting in the center of the table, clueing
me in to the fact that he was the casting director I should be
trying to impress.

I turned to the camera, plastered a bright
smile to my face and said with all the enthusiasm I could muster,
“Hi! My name is June Laurie, I’m sixteen years old and I’m
represented by the Annette Adams Agency.”

Slating was always kind of an awkward thing
to do because you look at the camera and talk to it like it’s your
best friend while a group of people sit there and watch you. Then
you have to turn back to face those people and act like you just
did a completely normal thing by talking to a camera. The world of
acting was a very strange place. At least it wasn’t as weird as
modeling—I didn’t have to wear a paper bag over my head while
people looked at my feet to see if I’d be a good shoe model.

After slating I’d normally start reading for
the casting director while they filmed me, but again, this audition
was proving to be a bit different since I didn’t have a script
yet.

“So, June, have you seen the show before?”
asked the man who had told me to slate. I assumed this was Mr.
Hill.

“Of course,” I replied, still smiling but
trying to act more relaxed than I had for my very stiff slate. “I
think most people have seen it.” They all smiled at each other,
silently congratulating themselves, I guessed.

“So you’re familiar with the characters and
have a rough handle on their background stories and such?” he went
on. This was by far the strangest audition I had ever been to. It
felt more like sitting around and talking about the show rather
than actually trying to be a part of it. When was I going to read
lines for them?

“Yeah, I watch the show every week so I know
all about the characters,” I replied, this time a bit hesitantly. I
wasn’t quite sure where this was going.

“Well, we aren’t really trying to bring a new
main character onto the show, but it has been a bit stagnant lately
and we felt that a fresh face could liven things up for a few
episodes—throw a wrench into the normal operation of the team,” he
said. I simply smiled and nodded, wondering if they wanted my
opinion or if they were simply letting me know what was going
on.

“That’s always a good idea,” I answered
neutrally.

“Wonderful,” he said with a grin, though I
was pretty sure he didn’t need me to tell him it was a good idea.
That’s what the other people at the desk were paid to do. “What
your character would add to the show is some conflict. You’ll be
playing Imogen Gentry. She’s a vaudeville actress whose co-star
Edward winds up dead. Of course you’ll be a suspect, but Cutter is
going to let his feelings for you cloud his judgment on the case,
causing some contention between him and Charles.”

My head was spinning as Mr. Hill described
the part to me. Not only was I going to play a pretty big part in
the show, but I was also going to be a love interest for Lukas
Leighton’s character Cutter. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I
just nodded my approval of the part.

“Well, then, if you’ll just take this script
here and look over it for a moment, we’ll bring someone in to read
with you.”

As they handed me the paper I began to feel
more comfortable. This was more like a normal audition. Having
scripted words in front of me was somehow easier than standing in
front of this group of people and answering questions as
myself.

One of the men left the room as I scanned the
page and tried to get comfortable with the lines in the few short
seconds I had to look at them. I knew I could just read from the
paper, but it was so much better to have it memorized. It looked
more natural. I made sure I memorized the key words in my lines
that I knew would trigger the response from the other character in
the scenes. That way if I forgot the exact line and had to
improvise a little bit, the other actor would still pick up their
cue from me.

As I took it all in, trying not to think of
the camera fixed on me or the line of people staring at me, I heard
the door open and close as the man re-entered the room with someone
following behind him.

I kept my eyes trained on the page in front
of me, but the first thing I noticed about Lukas Leighton was how
amazing he smelled. This could have been due to the fact that I
wasn’t looking at him, so my other senses had to alert me that
someone incredible had just walked into the room. The second his
heavenly scent hit my nose I looked up from my script and into his
perfect blue eyes.

“Lukas Leighton,” I said dumbly. Honestly.
That was the wittiest thing I could think of to say: his name. I
was pretty sure he’d heard his name enough times that he didn’t
need me reminding him of what it was.

“June Laurie,” he replied with a winning
smile.

I let out a little laugh. It was all I could
muster. Lukas Leighton had just said my name. And he was standing
two feet away from me. His ocean blue eyes. His perfect, full
mouth. The gorgeous dirty blonde styled hair. His ever-present five
o’clock shadow. That chiseled jaw. All right. I had to get a grip
or I was going to make a fool out of myself on camera. And in front
of the casting director. And most importantly, in front of Lukas
Leighton.

“June, we’d like to have you read the lines
with Lukas so we can make sure everything . . . fits,” Mr. Hill
said thoughtfully. “So whenever you’re ready, you can start.”

I was pretty sure I’d never be ready for this
moment, but I tried to calm myself. Gran had been right after all.
This really was the moment my whole life changed. I took a
steadying breath and tried to quickly get in the mindset of the
scene. From what I had gathered from the script, I was supposed to
be emotional because Charles had been accusing me of killing my
co-star for money. In this scene I was supposed to ask Cutter if he
really thought I was capable of killing Edward. Luckily, I wouldn’t
have to act much to get myself feeling worked up and emotional—I
was there the second Lukas Leighton walked into the room.

Turning and facing Lukas while still cheating
out to the camera, I began with my lines, my voice full of emotion.
“Cutter, I know all the evidence points to me and you really have
no reason to believe me, but . . . you can’t think I’m capable of
something so . . . so horrible,” I said, looking up at him
hopelessly. My heart was beating out of my chest and I tried to
harness that emotion into the character of Imogen Gentry.

Lukas took a step closer to me, closing the
gap between us in just one movement. He stared down at me with his
blue eyes and looked as if a thousand thoughts were passing through
his head. It was incredible. This is what it felt like to act with
someone who really knew what they were doing. I actually believed
that he was thoughtfully considering how to answer my question,
even though I already knew his answer, since it was written right
under my lines.

“Listen, I know Charles can be kind of
intense, but he means well,” Lukas said softly, bringing his hand
to my cheek. I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning like an
idiot, which proved useful since it just made me look like I was
fighting back tears. “He has to follow through with every possible
lead. If he got distracted by every pretty suspect we had, he
wouldn’t be a very good detective, now would he?” His thumb lightly
traced my cheekbone and I frantically tried to remember my next
line. The fact that Lukas Leighton was touching my cheek really
wasn’t helping my concentration at all, but I didn’t want to look
down at the script and ruin the chemistry we were building. I
remembered generally what I was supposed to say, so I took a shot
in the dark.