Chapter 12 Ellie
Rehearsals have officially started, and I have officially begun to regret all of my life decisions.
Trying to direct twenty eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds to act out exactly what you’ve pictured in your head is not easy.
They either don’t want to listen, or they want to do their own thing.
I appreciate the art of acting and putting your twist on characters, but as the director, they need to take into account my directions.
The lead female character, Sherri Martin is a go getter. She’s sweet but she’s ambitious. She gets what she wants, and she never has to ask twice.
After an amazing audition, I cast April Lewis, a beautiful, brown-haired girl with big blue eyes and an ambition that reminds me so much of Sherri.
However, since rehearsals started, she’s been lacking. I’m not sure if it’s nerves or what, but this is not what I thought I’d be getting from her.
After rehearsals end, I ask April to stay back. She slings her bag over her shoulder and meets me at my desk in the corner of the auditorium. She looks weary, like she anticipating bad news.
“Hey. What’s going on up there?” I ask, a hint of worry in my tone. “Sherri is supposed to be this strong-willed woman who never takes no for an answer. You’ve been acting—”
“Like I have no idea what the hell I’m doing? Yeah, well… I don’t,” April interrupts, crossing her small arms over her chest in defeat. Something tugs in my chest at her forlorn expression. Damnit, Ellie. Why did I have to say anything?
“No, it’s not that. It’s just… is everything okay? You did so well with your audition. That’s why I gave you the part. You don’t seem like yourself.”
She nods slowly. “Yeah, I just… I get so nervous when I’m up there. Auditions are a breeze for me, but once I actually get the part I… I don’t know.”
“You feel like you have something to prove?” I ask, knowing exactly how she feels. April nods and looks up at me through hooded lids. She looks like she’s about to cry, and that’s the last thing I want.
“I get that. I get the same way. I do great during auditions, but once I’m officially given the part, I feel like I have to prove to everyone that I deserved it.”
Kind of like how I feel like I need to prove to everyone that I deserve to be here as director.
“Yeah, and sometimes I just feel like maybe someone else would have been a better choice for the good of the show,” she sniffles.
I know how she’s feeling. The self-doubt, the feeling of never being good enough, that worry that everyone is thinking you don’t belong.
It’s terrible, and it’s something every actor goes through.
Hell, it’s something every person goes through.
“Listen,” I begin, placing a soothing hand on her shoulder.
“You deserve this part; do you hear me? You are perfect for this role, and I don’t want you to ever doubt that again.
I gave you this part because you earned it.
You are incredibly talented, and you were meant for this.
Don’t ever make yourself feel small to allow others to shine. You deserve to shine as well.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she wipes a tear away. I feel a huge sense of relief when she nods.
“Okay. Thank you, Professor Monroe. You’re really good at this directing thing,” she tells me, and my heart swells at the reassuring compliment. She has no idea what that means to me.
I smile brightly. “Thank you, April. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll start fresh, okay?”
April nods with a grin before walking out of the auditorium and leaving me alone with my thoughts. A sense of pride washes over me and I feel like less of a fraud than when I first got here.
The hair on the back of my neck stands as I feel the overwhelming feeling of being watched. I scan the auditorium, looking for any remaining students or lurkers. I don’t see anyone, so I go back to writing notes for tomorrow’s rehearsals.
“That was really great advice,” a familiar male voice says, scaring the living shit out of me.
A yelp of surprise leaves my lips as I erupt from my chair, and a chuckle comes from Jamie who is now standing in front of me.
His crystal blue eyes rake over me before landing on my face.
I feel my entire body heat at his assessing gaze.
How long has he been here? Why is he even here?
Jamie shoves his hands into his pockets and takes a step closer effectively crowding my personal bubble. God, he smells good. Like cologne and shampoo. I notice his wet hair and clean outfit. He must have been at practice.
“What are you doing here?” I ask accusingly.
For someone who swore he’d keep his distance and leave me alone, he’s doing a shit job at it.
Sometimes, I think he only told me that to get me to calm down.
His eyes sparkle with mischief. It’s like he knows his presence puts me on edge and he enjoys making me uncomfortable. Asshole.
“Practice ended. I was walking by and heard your little pep talk with the cheerleader. It was good advice, sweetheart. You should take it,” he shrugs.
“Don’t call me that. And she’s not a cheerleader.”
He takes a step closer, and when I take a step back, I run into my desk. He has me trapped, and suddenly I feel claustrophobic.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he winks.
“Seriously, you should really take your own advice. ‘Don’t ever make yourself feel small to allow others to shine.’ It’s… poetic,” he repeats my own words back to me. The grin on his face makes me irrationally annoyed.
“Are you making fun of me?” I ask, offended.
“No, I’m being serious. I think I need to remember that myself.”
A laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it, and now Jamie looks like I’ve offended him.
“What?”
“You feeling small? You’ve been cocky since the day I met you. Especially when it comes to playing hockey. You’ve always been so sure of yourself and your talent,” I tell him, and immediately regret it as I watch his expression change from playful to disheartened.
“Yeah, well. Not so much anymore.”
“You’ll play again,” I try to reassure him, but I have no idea if that’s even true. From what I’ve heard, his injury is pretty severe and there’s a good chance it won’t heal right, and he’ll never play hockey again. At least, not the way he used to. I can’t imagine how he feels.
Jamie snorts. “My knee is fucked. The chances of me getting back on the ice are slim, and everyone knows it. My coach, my teammates, the fans. They all know it, and no one wants to say it out loud. My career is over, Ellie. So no, I’m not so sure of myself anymore.
In fact, I’ve never felt as unsure of myself as I do right now. ”
He lets out a defeated breath as I stand and stare at him in awe. Who would have ever thought I’d be standing in front of Jamie Patterson again?
Who would have thought he would be admitting to being imperfect? My heart aches for him and the level of uncertainty he’s facing.
“Jamie…” I begin but trail off as he takes another step closer to me. I realize I have nowhere to go as my butt lands on my desk. He stands so close I can smell the mint on his breath from the gum he’s been chewing.
“You want to know one thing I am sure about?” he whispers. My heart pounds in my chest and my breath hitches at his closeness. I can feel his body heat radiating off of him and it feels warm and inviting.
Stop it, Ellie. Jamie is not warm or inviting. He is heartless. Although now I'm not so sure about that. I haven’t seen him this down since his father died. I’m pretty sure that’s the last time he ever gave a shit about anyone but himself.
“What?” I ask, curious of what he’ll say next.
“I’m sure you’ll forgive me,” he says, all confidence and nerve. And there he is, the arrogant son of a bitch.
“And what makes you so sure of that?” I ask, my voice unsteady, because apparently, I’ve forgotten how to breathe with him standing this close.
“Because I’m going to do everything in my power to make it impossible for you not to.”
My heart does a summersault, and butterflies erupt in my stomach. He seems so confident, like it’s not even in the realm of possibility for me to stay mad at him forever.
As much as I want to prove him wrong, I fear that he may actually be right.
I may not be strong enough to stay pissed at him forever. I don’t know if I even want to.