Like … this.” I pull a white high-collared lace dress off one of the rods. If I pretend I’m working at a fashion magazine, helping Arabella, this seems easier. Even fun.
“That’s pretty,” I hear Wendy whisper to Paige, who nudges her again.
“And Vera’s very naive,” I go on, feeling a bit more confident. “Mr. Harker said in English class on Monday that the color green sometimes represents innocence.”
“So?” Paige yawns, and I’m sure she’s thinking I’m a kiss-up.
“So …” I spot a gorgeous emerald green gown and take it down from the rod. “Vera could wear a lotof green. She could even wear this the night she finds Vladimir, um, you know, sucking Mila’s blood.”
I blush, hating how close this play hits to home.
“Paigey, that would look amazing on you!” Wendy exclaims, quickly glancing at her friend for approval.
Paige’s smirk has disappeared, and now she’s eyeing me in a careful, cunning way. As if she no longer knows what to make of me.
“Hmm,” she says at last. “Not a bad start, Rash-lee.”
I let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.
“Definitely better than Ellen, right?” Wendy says, and grudgingly, Paige nods.
I hug the dresses to me, full of cautious excitement.
It’s happening!
“I agree,” Mr. Harker says. “Any thoughts on Vladimir’s costumes, Ashlee?”
“Well, the cape he wears in the movie is sort of clichéd for a vampire,” I explain, casting my eyes down as I speak the
V
word. “Maybe he could wear a dark suit instead?”
“Good idea,” Mr. Harker says. “I think you’re a natural, Ashlee. Welcome aboard!” Paige opens her mouth, possibly to protest, but Mr. Harker adds,“Now, it’s high time we started rehearsing. Ashlee, you should come watch.”
I can’t stop grinning as I replace the dresses and float out of the costume room. I don’t even look up at Marc and Gordon in the sound booth. Then I join Mr. Harker and Sasha in the front row as the actors take their places onstage.
“Are you in?” Sasha asks me, and I nod, too happy to bother blowing her off.
“I bet a certain someone will be glad about that,” Sasha replies, smiling to herself.
Who?
I wonder, mystified. Paige? She didn’t seem glad, though I’m sure she’ll come around. Wendy? Before I can ask, the lights dim, and the rehearsal starts.
A spotlight shines down, and Paige steps into it. “The year was 1789,” she begins in a weird accent. It sounds like a mix between Valley Girl and Eastern European ballerina. “I went to — I mean, I — um. Line, please?” she snaps, glancing at Sasha.
I look over at Sasha, too. She doesn’t even need to consult the script in her lap. “I traveled to Transylvania to meet …” she prompts.
“To meet, um, a wealthy landowner named Vladimir,” Paige finishes quickly.
I cringe. Paige is
terrible.
She may be poised and pretty, but she can’t act for the life of her.
“Paige, can we start over?” Mr. Harker asks in a weary voice. “Maybe without the accent this time?”
Paige rolls her eyes but she tries again, sounding somewhat better. As the rehearsal goes on, I notice that she messes up her lines a lot, while the other actors have theirs memorized. The boy who plays Vladimir, James Okada (I recognize him as one of the cute boys from the popular lunch table), is actually really good. And Carmen, who plays Mila, is decent, too. Paige is the only weak spot.
I’d do a better job,
I catch myself thinking, then dismiss the idea. I’m wardrobe master, not an actor, which is for the best. Parents and other audience members will surely film the play and take photos. And a big blank spot onstage would definitely raise some questions.
Plus, trying to steal the lead role from Paige would kind of ruin my plan to become her BFF.
“Awful, huh?” Sasha whispers to me at one point. Although Sasha’s idea of whispering is practically like shouting. “I mean, I just want to speak her
“That’s pretty,” I hear Wendy whisper to Paige, who nudges her again.
“And Vera’s very naive,” I go on, feeling a bit more confident. “Mr. Harker said in English class on Monday that the color green sometimes represents innocence.”
“So?” Paige yawns, and I’m sure she’s thinking I’m a kiss-up.
“So …” I spot a gorgeous emerald green gown and take it down from the rod. “Vera could wear a lotof green. She could even wear this the night she finds Vladimir, um, you know, sucking Mila’s blood.”
I blush, hating how close this play hits to home.
“Paigey, that would look amazing on you!” Wendy exclaims, quickly glancing at her friend for approval.
Paige’s smirk has disappeared, and now she’s eyeing me in a careful, cunning way. As if she no longer knows what to make of me.
“Hmm,” she says at last. “Not a bad start, Rash-lee.”
I let out a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.
“Definitely better than Ellen, right?” Wendy says, and grudgingly, Paige nods.
I hug the dresses to me, full of cautious excitement.
It’s happening!
“I agree,” Mr. Harker says. “Any thoughts on Vladimir’s costumes, Ashlee?”
“Well, the cape he wears in the movie is sort of clichéd for a vampire,” I explain, casting my eyes down as I speak the
V
word. “Maybe he could wear a dark suit instead?”
“Good idea,” Mr. Harker says. “I think you’re a natural, Ashlee. Welcome aboard!” Paige opens her mouth, possibly to protest, but Mr. Harker adds,“Now, it’s high time we started rehearsing. Ashlee, you should come watch.”
I can’t stop grinning as I replace the dresses and float out of the costume room. I don’t even look up at Marc and Gordon in the sound booth. Then I join Mr. Harker and Sasha in the front row as the actors take their places onstage.
“Are you in?” Sasha asks me, and I nod, too happy to bother blowing her off.
“I bet a certain someone will be glad about that,” Sasha replies, smiling to herself.
Who?
I wonder, mystified. Paige? She didn’t seem glad, though I’m sure she’ll come around. Wendy? Before I can ask, the lights dim, and the rehearsal starts.
A spotlight shines down, and Paige steps into it. “The year was 1789,” she begins in a weird accent. It sounds like a mix between Valley Girl and Eastern European ballerina. “I went to — I mean, I — um. Line, please?” she snaps, glancing at Sasha.
I look over at Sasha, too. She doesn’t even need to consult the script in her lap. “I traveled to Transylvania to meet …” she prompts.
“To meet, um, a wealthy landowner named Vladimir,” Paige finishes quickly.
I cringe. Paige is
terrible.
She may be poised and pretty, but she can’t act for the life of her.
“Paige, can we start over?” Mr. Harker asks in a weary voice. “Maybe without the accent this time?”
Paige rolls her eyes but she tries again, sounding somewhat better. As the rehearsal goes on, I notice that she messes up her lines a lot, while the other actors have theirs memorized. The boy who plays Vladimir, James Okada (I recognize him as one of the cute boys from the popular lunch table), is actually really good. And Carmen, who plays Mila, is decent, too. Paige is the only weak spot.
I’d do a better job,
I catch myself thinking, then dismiss the idea. I’m wardrobe master, not an actor, which is for the best. Parents and other audience members will surely film the play and take photos. And a big blank spot onstage would definitely raise some questions.
Plus, trying to steal the lead role from Paige would kind of ruin my plan to become her BFF.
“Awful, huh?” Sasha whispers to me at one point. Although Sasha’s idea of whispering is practically like shouting. “I mean, I just want to speak her
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