‘Thank you.’ She’d got away with it.
‘Jackson!’ Philippe called from across the set. ‘We’re ready for you.’
‘Good luck in your audition,’ Jackson said as he slid out of the booth. ‘Even if you don’t want to go out with me, I still hope you get the part.’
I hope Olivia does, too, Ivy thought. ‘Thanks.’
The first girl to audition was a blonde with big hoop earrings, and she got Phillipe to smile. Even Charlotte looked good on the TV screens they’d set up; she didn’t mess up a single line.
‘There is no way I can compete with these girls,’ Ivy whispered to Sophia, who squeezed her hand.
Maybe Ivy could stall? Maybe Olivia would make it back in time? Maybe the cameras would break or Philippe would have a desperate urge for a croissant and postpone the auditions. But as each girl finished going through the lines with Jackson, Ivy knew it was another nail in her coffin.
‘Olivia Abbott,’ Philippe called.
Ivy’s stomach flipped over.
Camilla held up two sets of crossed fingers and Jackson gave her a warm smile. Ivy stepped on to the tiny x made out of tape on the floor.
Ivy’s mouth went dry and her glance darted from the camera to Jackson to a frowning Philippe and then stuck on the floor. She felt her pulse pounding.
Jackson leaned over. ‘You’re gonna do great. Relax!’
Ivy’s face flushed. She instructed herself not to faint.
‘And . . . action!’ shouted Philippe.
Ivy stared at the camera and couldn’t move. Everyone was silent. Jackson whispered, ‘It’s your line.’
‘Oh. Um,’ Ivy said. ‘You can have the coconut. You got here first.’ It came out quiet and very high-pitched.
‘Louder,’ barked Philippe from behind the camera. ‘The mic can’t pick that up.’
Ivy lifted her head. She had to project, like Olivia made her to when they switched for cheerleader tryouts. ‘You got here first!’ she shouted, making Jackson wince and take a step back. The microphone man yanked his earphones away from his ears.
Oops.
‘Maybe somewhere in between,’ Jackson whispered.
They finally stumbled past the first few lines, until they came to the part that Ivy always got wrong – the grass skirt.
She looked past the camera to Camilla who was doing a little hula dance but Ivy’s mind went blank. She couldn’t think of anything other than the words ‘grass skirt’ and Camilla’s dancing wasn’t helping. Then she remembered the whole improvising idea.
Ivy starting doing a hula dance, too, waggling her hands and humming some Hawaiian-style music. She felt ridiculous but it was better than standing there like a mummy. She saw Camilla bury her face in her hands.
‘What are you doing?’ Jackson said, staying in character but clearly asking her why she was acting like a lunatic.
‘I’m doing a dance to the coconut gods.’
Jackson chuckled.
‘No, no, no!’ Philippe interrupted. ‘You must stay on script. We begin again, from before the silly dancing. Take two!’
‘I thought it was funny,’ Jackson replied.
Ivy still didn’t know what the next line was. Everything was moving in slow motion. Philippe was leaning forward. Charlotte was sneering and Jackson was smiling with encouragement. She had approximately ten seconds to figure out the next line.
Luckily, there was a shout from outside and several flashes. There were people and cameras pressed up against the diner windows, with security guards trying to pull them away.