The Havoc Chronicles (Book II): Unbound (7 page)

I was so preoccupied with Josh’s unexpected appearance that I stumbled on my next line, but quickly recovered and pushed him out of my thoughts. Right now I was Guinevere and there was no room for anyone in her life besides Arthur and Lancelot.

“Very good, Madison and Gary,” said Mrs. Abrams when we had finished. She smiled at me as I exited the stage.

A few auditions later it was Amy’s turn. She did a fantastic job. When she got off the stage I said, “You better be careful. If you keep this up you might get a major role.”

She shrugged like it was no big deal, but the big grin on her face told the real story.

We sat back down in the audience a few rows behind Mrs. Abrams to watch the remaining readings and wait for the singing auditions.

When Mrs. Abrams called out “Josh Lancaster, for the part of Lancelot.” I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. I must admit that the thought of big, strong jock Josh Lancaster trying out for the school play made me more inclined toward the laughter option. Leave it to him to think acting was easy and that he could just step in and do it without any training. I would enjoy watching him flop. It would serve him right.

But there was no flop. To say I was shocked wouldn’t be a strong enough sentiment. It would be more like jaw-droppingly-blown-away. Who knew the boy could act?

If that was not enough of the unexpected for one day, three auditions later Mrs. Abrams read “Rhys Owen, for the part of Lancelot.”

I turned to face him. “Are you serious? When did you decide to try out?”

He shrugged. “About ten minutes ago.” He turned and walked onto the stage.

When Mrs. Abrams selected a part for Rhys to read, he merely glanced at the scene and then set the script down. We watched in amazement as he recited every line word for word – no mistakes or hesitation. When had he had time to memorize the script? As if it wasn’t impressive enough that he had the part memorized, he also managed to bring Lancelot to life on the stage. Watching him speak, I could almost imagine him as the legendary warrior ready to devote himself to King Arthur’s cause.

When he finished everyone applauded. We hadn’t done that for the other tryouts, but none of them had the part memorized or delivered the lines so flawlessly.

On the way back to his seat, Rhys walked past Josh, who didn’t look too happy at this turn of events. He glowered and slumped back in his seat with his arms folded, a grim look on his face. He was a competitor and it was obvious he didn’t like to lose. And he would be hard pressed to get the part after Rhys’ performance.

“That was great,” I whispered to Rhys once he sat back down. “Where did you learn to act like that?”

“One of the advantages of living a long time,” he said, “is that you tend to pick up this kind of thing.”

Once all the acting try-outs were complete it was time for the singing portion. When I was called to the stage I sang “The Simple Joys of Maidenhood” where Guinevere sings about the unfairness of her prearranged marriage. It was one of my favorites – poignant and humorous at the same time. I had sung this song a thousand times growing up, and when I got on stage I tried to imagine myself as Guinevere, caught between her duty to her people and her desire to live her own life.

I could relate to the girl.

With the first note I knew I had knocked this out of the park. I hit every note, nailed every word, and really
felt
the song.

When it was over I felt flush with excitement. I took a quick bow and hurried off back to my seat to watch the other performers.

Josh chose to sing “C’Est Moi” one of Lancelot’s best songs. Once again I was surprised at how well he did. His voice was nowhere near strong or deep enough to do the song real justice, but it wasn’t really fair for me to compare him to Robert Goulet on the Broadway recording.

Rhys was the last singer. When Mrs. Abrams called him up, he walked very slowly and deliberately to the stage. As he walked I could almost see him changing, growing older, more mature. When he stood on stage and faced the audience, he almost seemed like a different person.

I had always considered myself to be a good actress, but Rhys could have been a professional. His ability to take on a persona through expression and subtle mannerisms was amazing.

And then he sang.

I hadn’t exactly expected him to be horrible, but I certainly didn’t expect him to be good. And he wasn’t just good. He was why-wasn’t-he-a-recording-star good. He’d selected “If Ever I Would Leave You”, the song Lancelot sings to Guinevere expressing his undying love for her. His voice was breathtaking, pounding out the deep notes and soaring on the high ones.

His eyes met mine, and as he sang I felt the words deep within me. After a moment, my chest felt constricted and I realized that I had been so entranced that I had actually stopped breathing. I forced myself to relax and breathe normally.

There was silence when he finished. We were all too stunned to do anything. By the time we had recovered enough to think of applauding, he had already climbed down from the stage.

“Thank you, Rhys,” said Mrs. Abrams. “Thank you all for participating. I will take the weekend to go over my notes and Monday morning I will post the cast list outside my classroom door. Have a wonderful weekend!”

***

Saturday morning began with the doorbell ringing at ten o’clock. I had spent most of Friday night obsessing over the auditions and what the cast list would be on Monday, and consequently didn’t get to sleep until about two in the morning.

When I heard the doorbell, I woke up just long enough to turn over and go back to bed. But more blissful sleep was denied me when I heard a knock at my door.

“I’m still asleep,” I said.

Mom opened the door and poked her head in. “You have a visitor,” she said.

“Already? Tell them I’m still sleeping.” I turned and put the pillow over my head.

“Ok,” said Mom in an overly casual tone. “I’ll just tell Rhys you’re sleeping.”

She started to close the door, but I sat up and motioned for her to stop. Actually, I just sort of waved my hand frantically while I yawned, but Mom got the point.

“Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”

Mom gave me a knowing smile. “Will do, sweetie.”

I got up and walked over to the mirror to inspect the damage. I couldn’t just go down stairs as I was, but I didn’t have time to fully get ready. I remembered Amy saying that anytime you met up with a guy and it wasn’t a planned date, the trick was to look good while making it look like you put no effort into it.

A few strokes of the brush tamed my hair enough to be presentable. I brushed my teeth just enough to get rid of my morning breath – not like he was going to kiss me, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared – and I switched out of my old sweats and into the cute satin pajamas I never wore because I kept sliding out of bed.

When I got downstairs, Rhys was sitting at the kitchen table with my mom.

“Madison was fantastic,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll get the part.”

Rhys saw me come in and quickly stood up in an oddly formal gesture. What was up with that? I’d seen him practically every day for the past four months – was that really all it had been? – and he didn’t usually act like this. Something was different.

“Don’t let him be modest, Mom,” I said as I sat down at the table. “Rhys was the star of the auditions. I was good, but he should be on Broadway.”

“Really?” said Mom, arching an eyebrow. “That’s high praise coming from Madison.”

Rhys shrugged. “I’ve been in a few plays before, but Madison has a natural gift for theater.”

Mom put a hand on mine. “I hope you get the part,” she said and then stood up. “Well, I have a few things I need to go do. It was nice talking with you, Rhys.”

And with that she left, leaving Rhys and I alone together. This was not the first time we had been alone together, but something about Rhys was different – he seemed nervous.

“So,” I said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen when Mom left. “What’s up? More Berserker training?”

Rhys looked down at hands. “Not training,” he said. “I was just thinking that maybe we could go out and do something together today. You know, to take your mind off of the wait for the posted cast list.” He looked up at me hopefully.

It took all my Berserker training to prevent me from pre-zerking and giving away my excitement. Was he asking me out? On a date? I bit my tongue to keep from squealing with excitement – great to do with girlfriends, not so impressive in front of the boy himself.

“Sure,” I said, trying to sound calm. “What did you have in mind?”

“I have a couple of ideas,” he said.

My smile faded slightly. I sure hoped this wasn’t going to be one of those times when the guy asked me what I wanted to do and had nothing planned. I hated that.

He saw my look of concern and smiled. “Don’t worry,” he said. “It will be fun, I promise. Dress warm.”

***

When we pulled into the parking lot of the ice skating rink I wanted to cry. I had gone ice skating twice in my life, but both times ended up injured. As a result, I had sworn it off several years ago and hadn’t been back since.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea,” I said. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Rhys – partly because I was afraid I was going to hurt his feelings, and partly because I was embarrassed for being such a baby about not wanting to ice skate.

Rhys reached out and gently turned my face up so I was looking at him, his face mere inches from mine. His eyes drew me in.

“Trust me,” he said. “You will love this.”

“No,” I said vaguely. I found it extremely difficult to concentrate with him that close to me. I had a very rational story with examples and proof of why ice skating and I didn’t mix very well, but I couldn’t remember all the details at the moment – would he just lean over and kiss me, for crying out loud!

“No?” Rhys pulled back slightly, breaking my stupor. “What do you have against ice skating?”

“I always get hurt,” I said, “or hurt someone else.”

With a laugh, Rhys climbed out and opened my door, helping me out of the Range Rover. “You’re not the same girl you were,” he said. “This will be a whole new experience.”

Rhys reached out and took my hand, pulling me toward the entrance of the skating rink. I felt a tingle at his touch, and I reluctantly let him lead me into the skating rink.

We got our rental skates and sat down on large blocks to put them on. I laced mine up as tightly as I could because I remembered how difficult it was to keep my ankles from wobbling. How did I end up back here again? Oh, the dumb things girls did for guys they liked!

Fortunately this early in the day the rink was practically empty, just a few people skating around on the ice. I tentatively took a couple of steps with my skates and immediately grabbed the rail when we got out onto the ice.

Rhys laughed at the look of panic on my face. “You’re a Berserker now,” he said. “You have better balance and coordination than any human could possibly have. If you give it a chance you’ll find you can do this as easily as walking.”

“Trust me, I find ways to mess that up,” I said, still not letting go of the rail.

Rhys shrugged and took off. With smooth powerful movements, he accelerated and began zipping around the rink. He even threw in a couple of jumps and turns. It was truly an amazing sight. He looked like he had been born to do this, moving with the quick grace of an Olympic figure skater.

Talk about intimidating. Not only was I going to look like an idiot on the ice, but next to Rhys, I was going to look like an even bigger one than usual.

It was time to get this over with.

I took a deep breath, pushed my panic back, and tried to find my balance. Immediately I noticed that I wasn’t having any trouble keeping my ankles straight, so that was an improvement. Hesitantly, I let go of the rail and managed to keep my balance. I made a few experimental pushes with my skates and found myself gliding across the ice at an unexpected speed.

I pushed harder and found my rhythm. After a few minutes of experimenting, I had gotten the hang of it and could maneuver around the rink at will.

Rhys came over and skated next to me. “How’s it going?” he asked.

For the first time since I had found out we were going to ice skate, I smiled. “Not as bad as I thought.”