Take Me Home Tonight - Morgan Matson Page 0,57

to talk to him?”

“No,” I said quickly, since I was on the clock here and Grady would probably just tell me the day the first pay phone had been invented. Why had my parents gotten a babysitter? When I’d left them, everyone had been talking about getting pizza and staying in for the night. “I need to talk to—” I started, but Willa was talking over me, her words coming out in a rush.

“I’m actually—I don’t know if you remember me? I auditioned last year for Noises Off? I actually read with you in a scene? I didn’t get cast, but I ended up helping out with concessions during the show. You guys all did such a good job.”

“Oh. Okay. Um—”

“And I auditioned for Lear, too, and I’m hoping to just get ensemble. But I’m sure you’ll get a big part. You’re one of the stars—you’re Kat Thompson!” I couldn’t help but notice she said my name the way I said Amy Curry’s. “Anyway, I guess we’ll find out on Monday?”

All at once, it was like my fog of panic vanished and I could suddenly see myself clearly. What was I doing? If I told my parents where I was—and what I had done—I wouldn’t be allowed to be in Lear, even if I did get Cordelia. And I’d have to tell Mr. Campbell the reason why. And he’d be so disappointed in me.…

My mind was racing, now that I’d moved beyond run to my parents for help. Maybe I could still make this work. Yes, I’d panicked, but finding out that your best friend has just abandoned you in a subway station can do that to a person.

“So, want me to tell them that you called?”

I blinked, trying to focus. “Oh—um. No. Where are they, anyway? Did they go get dinner?”

“No, they went into New York for the night,” Willa said cheerfully, clearly not realizing that she’d just given me terrible news on multiple fronts, like it was suddenly the Napoleonic war over here.

“They—what?”

“I think they said they were going to an engagement party? They gave me the address where they’ll be… just hold on a second.” There was a pause, then three beeps sounded through the phone. What did that mean? Was the phone about to explode or something? Or, even worse, was I running out of time?

“They’re at 18 Ninth Avenue,” Willa said, and my heart started hammering.

My parents were in New York? They were here, in the city? What if I ran into them? Then I wouldn’t just be able to not be in Lear. I might find myself going to Stanwich College in the fall, still living at home.

“There is an uptown D train arriving,” the loudspeaker voice intoned. “Stand clear of the closing doors.”

“Where are you?” Willa asked curiously.

“Um—nowhere,” I babbled. “Just—don’t tell them I called. And good luck with the casting, and—what’s that, Teri? Gotta go!”

I hung up the phone like it was hot and stepped back from it, trying to think.

I still had a hundred dollars. I would be able to find someone who could break it for me. Yes, I was still alone in Manhattan. But Mr. Campbell’s play was still happening.

What was I supposed to do—not see this play? Not try and do everything I could to get this part? The more I thought about it, the angrier at Stevie I got. Yes, we’d had a fight. I hadn’t thought it was a fight that was worth abandoning me over, but apparently it was.

So fine.

Fine.

If Stevie wanted to go back home and leave me to figure out the city on my own, that was her choice. I had wanted to help her, since going to Mr. Campbell’s play was going to be good for both of us. But since she was apparently giving up on theater forever, it was no longer my problem.

And if she didn’t care what happened to me, I didn’t care what happened to her. She could go back home, but I was going to do what I came in for and go see Mr. Campbell’s play. I was pretty sure that I could walk there from this subway station—that this train wouldn’t help me get any closer. Manhattan was a grid, right? That was what everyone said. I’d be able to find the Echo Theater.

Armed with my plan, I turned toward the exit just as the phone rang again. I hesitated, then crossed back to it. What if it was Willa calling again? Because the number

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