My Life After Now - By Jessica Verdi Page 0,51

to thank you for coming in on Saturday. Your audition was certainly interesting.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that,” I said.

“Oh, it’s quite all right. Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, after that audition we aren’t able to offer you that particular job.”

“Of course. I understand.” But then why was he calling me?

“That being said, we really liked you, Lucy. Your fiery individuality was inspiring. So we had some meetings today and discussed the project with our client.”

“Okay…?”

“We were all in agreement that the campaign needs more life—it was much too dry. So we’ve changed everything. Rather than having our spokesperson address the camera directly, as was our original plan, we want her to play several mini-roles. Costume, makeup, and locale changes, different characters—the photographer, the doctor, the politician, the violinist. And at the end of the spot, a single slogan will tie it all together: ‘NYU. Be who you want to be.’ What do you think?”

Why on earth would he care what I thought? Unless…

I gripped the phone tighter to keep it from sliding through my suddenly sweaty palm. “I think it sounds amazing.”

“Good.” I could hear the smile in Darren’s voice. “Because you’ve got the job. If you’re still interested, that is.”

“Are you serious?!” I squealed. “Of course I’m still interested! Yes!”

Darren laughed. “Wonderful. We shoot mid-January. I’m going to have my assistant send you all the details. Look over the contract and let me know if you have any questions.”

“I will. Thank you so, so, so much!”

“Thank you, Lucy. Like I said, you really were inspiring. I’m glad to have you on board. Take care and I’ll be in touch.” With that, he hung up.

I hugged the phone to my chest and leaned back against the wall for support. Was this really happening? Just to be sure, I checked my phone again. The CBG Creative number was right there, at the top of my incoming calls list. Proof that I hadn’t imagined it. This really was happening.

I sprinted back into the auditorium, feeling more alive than I had in months. Elyse was in the middle of her death scene—I was happy it was her I got to interrupt.

“Hey, everyone!” I shouted. “I just got cast in a national television commercial!”

The entire cast and crew suddenly forgot all about Elyse and showered me with congratulations. I told them all about the project and couldn’t help the twinge of pleasure I felt at their obvious jealousy.

I sought out my friends without thinking. Courtney and Evan were awkwardly hovering around the outer edges of the scene, like they didn’t know how to react. Should they force themselves to join the group and celebrate along with everyone else, even though there was still a ton of personal stuff preventing that celebration from being genuine? Or should they distance themselves from the group and use this opportunity to illustrate just how not-okay things still were between us?

I was watching them watching me when Max’s smiling face popped up in my line of vision. “Congrats, Lucy,” he said.

He called me Lucy, not Luce like he always used to, and he didn’t say anything more, but what with the way Courtney and Evan were acting, Max’s simple “congrats” felt like an enormous gift.

I smiled back. “Thanks,” I said, glowing with happiness. Maybe this tiny exchange was just what we’d needed—the first step on the road to repairing our friendship.

Suddenly, Ty pushed through the crowd and pulled me into a giant embrace, lifting me up off the ground. “I am so proud of you, Lu,” he whispered. I melted into his warmth, his strength. God, I had missed this.

Elyse hadn’t moved from her spot on the stage. Still in Ty’s arms, I flashed her a smug grin. Her glare burned right back.

26

You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught

Dad lifted his ginger ale. “To Lucy. May this only be the first in a lifetime filled with successes!”

“To Lucy!” Papa echoed.

“Isn’t it bad luck to toast with a nonalcoholic beverage?” Lisa grumbled.

Dad gave her a look. “We’re not a very superstitious household.”

She just rolled her eyes and helped herself to a sizeable piece of lasagna.

For the first time in ages, the four of us were having dinner together. There were no meetings or appointments of any kind tonight, and both my parents had come home from work early when they heard my big news. Lisa had been on her way out the door when Dad stopped her. I was in the next room and overheard their conversation, which went