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Authors: Liz Ruckdeschel

Tags: #Fiction

What If... All the Rumors Were True (5 page)

BOOK: What If... All the Rumors Were True
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FOR KICKS

A captain must be able to rally the troops, on and off the field.

O
n her way to soccer practice, Haley spotted Sasha Lewis in the parking lot, tossing her backpack into the grooviest little red Mustang Haley had ever seen.

“Where'd you get the wheels?” Haley asked.

Sasha shut the car door and leaned against the hood, grinning in her navy shorts and gold and blue Hillsdale Lady Hawks T-shirt. “Isn't he gorgeous?” she said. “I call him Stallion. He's a vintage sixty-nine Mustang. A birthday present from Pascale.”

Sasha, whose mother, Pascale Lewis, was French and
très
chic, had recently turned seventeen, which in New Jersey was the legal driving age. Haley could hardly wait until her next birthday, in February. But having friends who could drive was almost as good as being able to drive yourself.

“Stallion, eh?” Haley said as she checked out the black leather bucket seats. “Sweet.”

“Boys are always naming their cars after girls,” Sasha said. “But this car feels like a boy to me. And I can drive him wild.”

“Totally,” Haley said, pulling a flyer off Sasha's dash. “What's this?” She glanced quickly at the printed message. “Open tryouts for
A Midsummer Night's Dream.
Are you thinking of entering the theater, too?”

“No way. Are you kidding? I've got enough on my plate. But you, on the other hand—I could see Haley Miller busting out some acting chops. You act all shy, but secretly you know you want the spotlight.” Haley blushed.

On the field, Coach Tygert blew his whistle. “Lewis! Miller! Let's move it!”

Sasha and Haley jogged onto the field in their cleats for the first varsity girls' soccer practice of the year. “Looks like Tygert's still married,” Sasha said as a flash of sun glinted off the gold ring on the coach's left hand. “Too bad.”

“Yeah, she's a lucky woman,” Haley said, swooning.

“Okay, girls, welcome to a new season of varsity soccer,” the coach said. “We've got a great group this year and in spite of last year's end-of-season meltdown, I think this team can take it all the way.”

The girls clapped and cheered. “Woo-hoo!” “All right!” “Go Hawks!”

“But first things first,” Coach Tygert said. “As you all know, Tanya and Padma graduated last year, so we need a new team captain. Tessa and Jen are our only returning seniors—” He nodded at two girls who had spent more time on the bench last year than on the field. Jen nodded smugly, as if the captaincy were hers by default.
Not so fast, Jen,
Haley thought. Tessa ducked her head as if she hoped no one would notice her—clearly not eager to lead the team to victory.

“The job is open to anyone you think is qualified,” Coach Tygert finished. “So…nominations?”

A perky sophomore named Christina raised her hand. “I nominate Sasha. Look, Sash, we were all a little pissed off at you last year when you blew off our final game. But you've proven yourself over the summer. I've never seen anyone so dedicated to this team. I think you've earned our trust back. And come on, we need you. Your skills are wicked good.”

“Second,” another sophomore shouted triumphantly.

“I nominate myself,” Jen said forcefully, when no one else called her name.

“Okay, that's allowed,” said Coach Tygert. “I like to see confidence in a leader.”

“Haley Miller,” a junior named Dee chimed in. “She and Sasha are our best players. No offense, Jen,” she added, looking in the annoyed senior's direction.

“Any other nominations?” Coach Tygert asked. The girls were quiet. “No? All right, let's vote. The three nominees are Sasha, Haley and Jen. Nominees, turn around, please, so the voters won't be intimidated by your scorching glares.”

The girls laughed as Haley, Sasha and Jen turned around on the bleachers, their backs to the rest of the team. “All right,” Haley heard the coach saying. “Who votes for Jen? Hands? Okay. Sasha?”

Haley thought she heard more movement this time, more of a rustle, but it was hard to tell.

“Now, last but not least, hands for Haley.”

Haley glanced at Sasha, who rolled her eyes and said, “Do you believe this foolishness?”

“I should be captain,” Jen butted in. “Seniority should count for something.”

“Okay, nominees, you can turn around now,” Coach Tygert said. “Well, it looks like we have a tie. Haley and Sasha got nine votes each.”

Haley was stunned. Her teammates looked up to her that much? She knew a lot of girls would vote for Sasha, but she hadn't expected to do just as well. She did the math in her head. That meant the whole team had voted for either Haley or Sasha—except for one. Haley was willing to bet that Jen's one vote had come from her fellow senior, Tessa.

“So I have a proposal,” the coach said. “What do you think of Haley and Sasha as cocaptains? Since they're both busy juniors, they could share the responsibility.”

“Yeah!” the girls shouted.

Sasha shrugged. “Cool with me.”

“Me too,” Haley said.

“Excellent,” Coach Tygert said. “Girls, meet your new leaders, Sasha and Haley!” He held up an arm of each girl in a victory salute. Haley felt her face turn red. She was embarrassed but thrilled at the same time. She and Sasha got along great, and being cocaptains of the varsity soccer team would look awesome on their college applications.

“I'll have
Captain
embroidered on your team jackets,” the coach said. “You should get them next week. Okay, three laps around the field and then we'll scrimmage. Go!”

Christina clapped Sasha and Haley on the back. “Congrats! You guys will be awesome.”

“Thanks,” Haley said. She fell into step beside Sasha as they jogged around the field.

“You busy after practice tomorrow?” Sasha asked.

“What, you mean besides having a jillion hours of homework and a thousand SAT vocabulary words to memorize?” Haley said. “Not really. Why?”

“I'm playing open mike at Drip,” Sasha said. “Busting out some new material I worked on over the summer. I could sure use a little support, a friendly face or two. Those open mike crowds can be brutal. What do you say?”

Good for Haley—she's racking up the accomplishments and her high school transcript is looking more impressive by the minute. Who knows—as cocaptain of the soccer team, could she be lining herself up for a future athletic scholarship? Unfortunately, even student-athletes can't neglect the student part of the equation, though. Sasha is burning the candle at both ends, as usual. That doesn't mean Haley has to follow in those sometimes less-than-graceful footsteps. On the other hand, good friends—and cocaptains—support each other. So what should Haley do?

If you think Haley is curious to hear Sasha's new songs (maybe some of the lyrics are about people she knows!), take her to Drip for
"OPEN MIKE"
. If you think Haley has a budding actress inside her dying to get out, and she can always see Sasha sing another time, send her to try out for
A Midsummer Night's Dream
"ON A ROLE"
. If you think Haley shouldn't make any more decisions before she straightens out her wardrobe for fall, send her to
"THE BAG LADY"
.

Junior year is crammed with activity, but no one can do it all. Choose carefully, or Haley could find herself falling down a rabbit hole.

TOTAL DRAMA

Good acting takes a lot of effort, but sometimes it's harder just being yourself.

“W
e'll show Xavier,” Shaun shouted, his voice muffled by the huge papier-mâché donkey's head that was covering him from the shoulders up. “We're all gonna get huge parts, and take over the drama program from the inside out. No one's gonna believe how crazy delicious we are onstage. The theater crowd is gonna love us.” Devon had to keep pointing Shaun in the right direction as they walked toward the auditorium. In full costume, Shaun couldn't exactly see straight.

“Well, no one can say we lack commitment,” Irene said, lifting up the skirts of her long ivory antique satin gown to step over a puddle. Irene's gold crown completed an ensemble that was most definitely fit for a fairy queen. She looked regal enough for the part.

Devon, who worked at a vintage clothing store called Jack's, had helped them all scrounge up appropriate Shakespearean costumes for their
A Midsummer Night's Dream
auditions. Haley was surprised at how committed Devon himself had become to landing a role in the production. An artist and photographer, he'd always been the stern, quiet type, preferring to observe the Hillsdale High circus through a lens rather than draw attention to himself and actively participate. Now here he stood, in gym bloomers tricked up to look like Elizabethan breeches, yellow tights and a purple ruffled shirt.
Maybe he's finally coming around,
Haley thought, admiring her beau in his period getup. He'd even dug up the perfect dress for Haley to wear, a navy velvet gown with gold trim and mutton sleeves.

Shaun topped them all, of course, with the donkey's head he'd made in Mr. Von's art class—unfortunately built without working eyeholes—worn over a green makeshift leotard covered in leaves, crafted out of three discarded Peter Pan costumes. The leotard was a tad small for Shaun, but somehow that protruding Willkommen belly crammed into spandex seemed a good touch for the character of Nick Bottom.

“I understand the ways of the ass,” Shaun chanted under his mask. “I feel the ass growing within. I am becoming the ass!”

“No surprises there,” Devon joked.

“Cut the Method crap, Shaun,” Irene said. “I can't take any more chanting.”

Xavier, Shaun's cousin and their new after-school tutor, had told them all about Stanislavsky's famous acting method, used by Marlon Brando, James Dean and other legends of stage and screen. “The actor mutht find the character heth playing inthide himthelf,” Xavier had said. “Digging deep, deep, deep inthide and living the life of that character in every detail until he BECOMETH the part. He doethn't PLAY the character; he ITH the character. They are ONE. Intheparable.”

“It's all about technique, Rini,” Shaun said. “I was born to play Bottom, and I'll do whatever it takes. And you shall be my queen.” He took Irene's hand and kissed it with his papier-mâché donkey lips.

“Well, I hope this isn't all for nothing,” Irene said. It was a bold move for someone who'd never been in a play before to go out for the part of Titania, queen of the fairies and Bottom's love interest. Titania was one of the female leads, a star of the show, and potentially the best part for a girl in the play.

The play's characters came from two different worlds, the human world and the fairy world. Haley planned to audition for a major human role, Helena or Hermia, mostly because Devon had declared his intention to play Lysander or Demetrius. These two couples switched partners during the play, so if Haley and Devon both got parts, the odds were pretty high that they would be canoodling onstage. Method acting or no Method acting, playing love scenes opposite Devon was definitely something Haley could manage. If all worked out, of course.

“It's just a silly school play,” Devon said to Irene as they neared the auditorium. “How competitive could it be?” Then he opened the door, and the four friends gasped at what they saw. The auditorium was full of aspiring actors and actresses, studying their scripts and running lines in preparation for their staged reads in front of the drama coach. Each major character's name was written on a separate poster at the front of the auditorium, and behind the names, lines of potential cast members snaked through the aisles. There were hordes of people there to try out for Helena and Lysander and Oberon and Puck, of course, but the line for Titania stretched all the way to the door. On the other hand, only a handful of kids had signed up to attempt the role of Bottom.

“Good grief,” Irene said, her face even paler than usual. “Look at all those wannabe fairy queens.”

Haley, too, had forgotten about the Hillsdale effect. Basically, in order to do anything at all ambitious at such a large public school, you first had to compete with a mob of supertalented, super-qualified, cutthroat kids. There was even heavy competition for slacking off, ever since Annie Armstrong and Dave Metzger had made lazy ennui fashionable among the type-A set.

“But you're the only one dressed for the part,” Shaun said reassuringly to Irene. “Old Lyons can't resist the Mistress with the Method.”

“Maybe Shaun has a point,” Haley said. “You're committed, and your costume proves it.”

Still, the threatened look in Irene's eyes did not escape any of them. Irene looked down at her satin gown and stifled a shriek. “Are you crazy? I look like an idiot!”

“Come on, Titania,” Shaun said, trying to coax her into the role. “Normally, I wouldn't think that's such a good look, but from the ass's eye view it's wicked awesome.”

“The ass's eye view!” Irene said. “Who cares about that?”

“That's exactly what Titania would say! If she talked all normally and not Shakespearean-like,” Shaun offered.

“Everybody's nervous, Irene,” Devon said. “Don't worry. You'll be great.”

But Haley was afraid Irene had a first-class case of stage fright. Irene's hands were shaking, her eyes were huge, and they kept darting around the room. She seemed on the verge of a major freak-out.

“I—I can't do it,” Irene stammered. “I'll make an ass out of myself.”

“That's the whole point,” Shaun said. “At least in my case.”

“Shaun, shut up,” Haley said.

Irene heaved her green army-surplus backpack over her shoulder and said, “I'll see you guys later.” Then she hurried out of the room.

Shaun, Devon and Haley frowned at each other.

“Wow,” said Devon. “She's really tripping.”

“I'll make sure she's okay,” Haley said, and chased Irene to the girls' bathroom. Irene had already run into a stall and pulled the satin gown over her head. Now she was diving back into her comfy ripped white tee.

“Are you all right, Irene?” Haley asked.

“I am now,” Irene said with a sigh. “I'm sorry, but it's just too much in there. Did you see who was in line for Titania? Coco De Clerq, about a dozen seniors and that new Spanish chick, Mia Delgado, who I've heard is in, like, three television commercials this month.”

“Mia?” Haley hadn't had time to check out the room. But if Irene was right and Mia Delgado had been there, that meant the rumors were true—Sebastian Bodega was back from Spain, and he had his luscious girlfriend-slash-model, Mia, in tow. That much Spanish spice could not be good for the delicate constitution of Hillsdale High.

“Yeah,” Irene said. “The one with the legs up to her armpits. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

My sentiments exactly,
Haley thought, hoping that Devon wasn't out there ogling the Latin stunner. “Maybe you're doing the right thing,” Haley said. “I'm not so sure any of us is cut out for the theatrical life.”

Well, that scene was certainly dramatic. Maybe Irene isn't giving herself enough credit. Since when does she get so emotional in public? And what will Irene do if Shaun lands the role of Bottom, and Coco De Clerq or Mia Delgado ends up playing his love interest?

Did Irene really spot Mia trying out for Titania? The girl is still learning English as a second language, and already she's tackling Shakespeare? Are Mia and Sebastian still an item? And how many hearts will Mia break before the school year is through?

Haley has got a lot to think about here. The production could be a great experience and might impress college recruiters down the line. But between classes, tutoring and everything else she has on her plate, where will Haley find the time to memorize her lines? How many words can she stuff into her brain before it explodes? On the other hand, Haley's playing opposite the adorable Devon could take their relationship to the next level. That is, if Haley can beat out all those more experienced actresses who are up for the part.

If you think Haley needs to clear her head with a good shopping spree before she makes a final decision, go to
"THE BAG LADY"
. If you think there's no doubt she's cut out for the theater and a little drama is just what she needs, send her to
"ON A ROLE"
. Lastly, if you think Haley's biggest worry should be the status of Sebastian and leggy Mia, go to
"SPANISH FLY"
.

Fate may play a big role in Shakespearean drama, but in this drama you're the playwright. You get to write your own entrance.

BOOK: What If... All the Rumors Were True
5.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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