had been here to do it or he’d emailed the list and gotten someone else to do it for him. But he wasn’t anywhere that I could see, and I was very grateful for that at the moment.
It felt like the walk to the double doors had never been so long, and I was trying to tell myself that whatever it was had already been decided. There was nothing that could be done about it except for me to cross from not knowing into knowing. Teri was standing right in front of the paper, and as I got close, I tapped her shoulder. She turned, and when she saw it was me, her eyes widened and she took a step back. I could feel her—and most of the other seniors—watching us as Stevie and I stepped up to read the list.
It was already covered in blue and black pen signatures of people indicating they were accepting their parts. The black letters on the white page swam in my vision for a second as I tried to make them make sense. Jayson had gotten Lear, as we’d all known he would… Erik was Gloucester and Eric was Kent…
… and Stevie was Cordelia.
I drew in a breath without knowing I was going to, forcing myself to keep reading. Teri was Regan, Emery was Goneril… I scanned down the page, looking for my name, faster and faster, and there at the bottom, after the list of the ensemble and understudies:
Kat, please see me about assistant directing.
“Oh my god,” Stevie breathed. Her hand was over her mouth, and I turned around to see that all the other seniors were staring at me, with looks ranging from baffled to pitying to horrified, or some combination of all three. I could see just how shaken everyone was by this—this was not supposed to happen in a world they understood.
And in that moment, I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was payback. If I’d been able to lie last night—if I’d been willing to say the right things—I would have been looking at a list with Cordelia across from my name.
“Kat,” Teri whispered, and I could see there were tears in her eyes. “I don’t…”
“He’s such an asshole.” I turned to see that Stevie was looking angrier than I’d ever seen her. She was practically shaking with fury. “He’s such a fucking asshole.”
“Who?” Aminah asked nervously, looking around, like we were being bugged. “Mr. Campbell?”
“I never even read for Cordelia!” Stevie exploded. “The only reason he cast me was to mess with Kat, to hurt her.…”
“Why would he want to do that?” Erik asked, sounding baffled.
Everyone looked at me, and I could tell that they were all waiting for something. Some explanation, something to put this in context, something that would let them know that there was still order in the world as they understood it. Because, I realized as I looked at the list, at my name on the bottom like an afterthought, they still thought that the emperor was a great guy, wearing a really nice suit.
I let my eyes roam over the paper one last time and felt a pang—not a huge one, but it was there. The kind you get whenever you say goodbye.
And then—because there was no other reaction, really—I threw my head back and laughed.
“Kat?” Stevie asked. I could hear in her voice that she clearly thought my disappointment had caused some kind of psychological break.
“I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head, trying to get control of myself. But I was, I realized. I was fine. And what’s more—I was free. “Really, I’m good,” I assured my best friend, looking right into her eyes so that she would know I meant it. “Anyone have a pen?”
Jayson handed me his, and I took a breath and stepped forward. There, at the bottom of the list, right next to my name, I carefully wrote, I would prefer not to.
I took a step back and smiled as I looked at it, then handed Jayson his pen. “Thanks,” I said, and he nodded, still staring at me like he wasn’t sure who I was or what was happening.
I headed toward Stevie’s car, and she fell into step next to me. I glanced back at all the other seniors, most of whom were still looking gobsmacked. I had a feeling that as soon as we drove away, the speculation would begin—and I had no doubt a new group thread, but this one without