Unscripted - Nicole Kronzer Page 0,23

had seen him do it himself last night when he called on Fredrickson.

“. . . Okay,” I said, frowning. “Start again?”

He nodded. “Your suggestion is fast food.”

The other Jake and I cleared to neutral and began again.

I stepped out onto the stage and mimed a counter, wiping it down.

Jake 2 stayed in the wings, frowning.

I called him on, offering, “Can I help you, sir?”

He didn’t move.

Figuring that he must not know what I was doing, I wiped the counter again and turned to the “grill” and flipped a burger to give him some more information. Make active choices. Still nothing. “Guess I was hallucinating,” I said, trying to justify his unresponsiveness. “Maybe a customer will come in soon.”

If Jake 2 hadn’t figured out that I had established a fast-food counter and was a fast-food employee after seeing my space work and getting the suggestion “fast food” from Ben, I wasn’t sure what else to do to help him.

“No.” Ben. “You’re not giving Jake the opportunity to create his reality. You’ve decided for him.”

Was I in an alternate improv universe? What did Ben want me to do?

Jake 2 was frowning. He wasn’t moving.

“Uh . . . he seemed to need some help,” I said, trying to be gracious.

“Her space work was confusing,” Jake 2 complained.

My space work was—

“Well, then.” I tried to smile. “You can come on stage and tell me what I’m doing,” I said. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t clear to you, but if you don’t come into the scene, then it’s my job to establish—”

“NO.” Guess who? “Improv is give and take, Ellie.”

Ellie? Who was Ellie? I looked around. Did he mean me? By the time I realized he was shortening “Zelda” to “Ellie” of his own volition, he was well into a lecture about me being a “taker” and not a “giver.”

“Also,” he continued, “I am the coach. Don’t give your fellow improvisers notes.”

I stood agape on stage, my cheeks blazing. “Sorry,” I said finally. It seemed to be what he was waiting for.

“Again.” He clicked his pen. “From the top.”

CHAPTER NINE

I had to find Will.

I stuck my head in Bill Murray, but it was empty. Then I made a beeline for Jonas’s cabin, Dan Aykroyd, but it had been vacated as well. Seriously. How did anyone find anyone before texting? Did our ancestors just wander around for days looking for each other?

I drummed my fingers against the Dan Aykroyd doorjamb. I needed Will. I needed to be reminded why I was putting myself through this. I needed to talk to someone who believed in me.

Hoping Will was looking for me in Gilda Radner, I took off toward my cabin. But as I rounded Dan Aykroyd, I plowed straight into Ben.

“Whoa, there,” he said like he was a cowboy, and I was his runaway horse.

My face flushed, and I stumbled back. He was the last person I wanted to run into—literally or figuratively.

“I’m glad I found you,” his warm voice rumbled. “Let’s take a little walk.”

“I’m looking for my brother, actually,” I said, flashing him a dismissive smile.

“JV’s not here. They’re at Boy Scout camp doing high ropes. Team building.”

I sighed.

“Come on. It’s a beautiful day. Keep me company.” This sweet, charming Ben was completely different from who he’d been at rehearsal. “Just a quick walk. What else do you have to do?”

I shrugged. “Wash my hair? Re-lace my hiking boots? Take a chipmunk census?” I bit the inside of my cheek. I could be funny now? Where had that been during rehearsal?

“The latest chipmunk census was just filed last week.”

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

“Ten minutes,” he cooed. “Tops.”

I took one more look around, hoping that I’d see Will returning from high ropes. Then I did a quick calculation. If I refused to go with Ben at this point, I’d come across like a baby who couldn’t handle a Varsity rehearsal. Not a great first impression. So even though I wasn’t in the mood for a “Chin up, kiddo, you’re really talented, but you just need guidance” speech, I reluctantly fell into step beside him.

His flip-flops and my Chaco sandals padded on the dirt path.

“Tough rehearsal,” he said, pushing up his white long sleeves.

I nodded. Here it came.

“But you’ve got a lot of talent.”

Predictable. I made a noncommittal sound and ducked under a pine bough.

“It just needs molding.”

Did someone release a how-to book for these speeches? I rolled my eyes.

“Hey.” He took my arm and stopped me. “Look at me.”

I sighed and did as