world. There’s nothing wrong with that.
I swallow, staring at her and waiting for my heart rate to settle.
ME
I’m afraid of what everyone will say behind my back.
She puts her hand on the table between us in an unexpectedly comforting way.
HARMONY
Kind of ridiculous, isn’t it. Since when should we be punished for a feeling like love?
Her startling wisdom imparted, she says she’ll get back to her reading. Still reeling at her perceptiveness when the bell goes a moment later, I stand up impulsively, my purpose coming back to me with a jolt. This is the now I’ve been waiting for! Shouldering my bag, I struggle to find some parting word for Harmony. She returns my gaze, not seeming to expect me to say anything. So, with a simple nod, I make for the door and she waves her farewell. My rapid unchecked footsteps reverberate on the wood floor and the shhh from that one other person in here echoes after me.
SCHOOL HALLWAY. SOON AFTER.
Mia is coming out of her classroom as I arrive, my heart already picking up pace with anticipation. She greets me with a warm smile.
MIA
Hi. Ready? Walk with me.
Ready? Yes! I swallow and fall in beside her. She is clutching a paperbound book. Heading through the doors with her, listening to her voice, I forget every second of expectation that has led up to this moment. We walk side by side across the grass toward the theater. She’s talking about class, my vivid imagination. The seconds slow and to me we could be the only two people on earth. Turning onto the path, we sit down under the arch in front of the theater. I feel so awake—the texture of the bench under my palm, Mia’s closeness, the crisp fall air. She says I’m a sensitive, honest actress and, dazed with compliments, I am missing the point.
MIA
So …
Finally! I was about to throw my arms around her neck and tell her that I love her too.
MIA
I’m putting on the fall play this year and I want you to audition.
Audition? Grasping the reality, I nod my head. Of course I was going to audition, I want to be an actress. But to know she wants me there. This could be perfect.
ME
Sure.
She claps her hands together, genuinely excited.
MIA
Excellent. Here’s the script. Have a look at Lily.
She hands it to me, and I clutch it like a present. Kate appears at the end of the path.
KATE
Mia, you wanted to see me.
She says her name to her face like it’s butter on her tongue. Mia is already up and walking away. She smiles back at me.
MIA
See you Monday for auditions, Phyre.
I sit beneath the arch as I process everything that just happened. So I’m not the only one who Mia has arranged to meet. That’s okay. Maybe I blew it a little out of proportion. Even alone, I feel my face flush pink and my chest constrict with private embarrassment. As I find my feet and walk toward the gate, new (sane) thoughts start to take shape. At least this is my chance to spend time with Mia. My new sense of purpose intensifies as I walk; I’m recognizing with every step how imperative it is that I get this part. If I don’t, I can’t begin to imagine the jealousy that I’ll have to live with—about all the time she’ll be spending with someone who isn’t me.
MY BEDROOM. THAT EVENING.
First thing when I get home from a tediously long shift at Peele’s, I run upstairs and fling myself down on my bed, pulling Mia’s script carefully out of my bag. Lying on my front, I tuck my hair behind my ears and press open the paper cover. Holly pushes through the door and jumps up onto the bed, stepping across the small of my back to find a choice spot on the windowsill. I reach to rub the top of her head, and then start to read …
THE PRICE HOUSE. EVENING. 1950.
The bedroom of Lily Price. A record player plays jazz. Lily, seventeen, a pretty, vivacious small-town girl, turns it up. She sweeps her hair out of her face and dances to the music. She puts on lipstick, curls her eyelashes, and then fastens her necklace and smooths it down beneath the collar of her satin dress. Abuzz with nerves and excitement, she is almost ready for her first date with Michael. She has dreamed of this moment. He should be here any minute.
The front doorbell rings. She takes one last