Chapter 35
Marlowe
My hands won’t stop shaking enough to hold the steering wheel steady.
“Why don’t I just drive?” Priscilla suggests after I veer outside my lane for the third time in as many minutes.
Switching roles does nothing to calm my nerves. By the time she parks, I’ve workshopped what I feel to be a very convincing reason we need to go back to my place.
“I don’t think there’s a part for me in this,” I say, hoping this speech sounds more spontaneous than it is, that somehow in the week since I acted in Spring Awakening, I’ve learned how to make text feel instinctual instead of overpracticed.
“Maybe the smart thing to do is wait for them to announce next season’s schedule, and I can see if there’s anything in that lineup that makes more sense.
You know? Because if I go in there and do a bad job, that’s the only first impression I will ever get with them.
I think it makes much more sense for me to hold off and really prepare. ”
“Totally,” Priscilla says.
“Yeah,” I reply, forcing myself to nod along to her approval. “It’s not a good idea to go in there.”
“Terrible idea,” she agrees. She checks the rearview mirror, then shifts the car into reverse. “If we leave now, we can get back in time to watch a movie or two. Maybe even three, since you have so much adrenaline.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Or should we go to Tequila Thursday? Alice is insisting we’re both welcome there. And I bet you she brings Jeannie. We’ve gotta see that.” She takes her foot off the brake.
“Whoa, whoa. Hold on,” I say, yelling a bit. “I’m not done deciding.”
She continues backing out. “Seems to me like you are.”
“I might still want to do it.”
“But there’s no part for you,” she says. “Come on, I think we could make happy hour.”
It’s only now that I see her game, right as the slow smile spreads across her lips. The very smile I have to kiss off, leaning over the gear shift as I whisper teasingly, “You little shit.”
“Who, me?” she says as she pulls back into the spot.
“You knew that would make me want to go in,” I say.
“What else was I going to do? Argue with you? When have I ever come out the winner with that?”
“More times than I’ll ever admit,” I say. “And don’t act like what you just did wasn’t a master-level chess move.”
“It absolutely was,” she agrees. “But I wanted to hear you say it.”
“You’re the best there is, Priscilla Covington-French. My number one.”
“That’s right. And you’re auditioning for this show,” she says. “Now get in there and break a leg. Any leg. Yours. Theirs. Mine. Massacre the legs. Make your arrival on the Garden Meadows community theater scene unforgettable.”
When I get out of the car, my whole body has turned to static, like my every limb has come back to life after falling asleep.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so scared.
Even when traveling through alternate universes.
Even stepping in to play Dallas’s role in the show.
This is somehow worse, because this is a beginning, and beginnings are always the hardest.
It’s just a door. But it’s also my entire life.
There’s a paper sign-in sheet in the lobby. All I have to do is write down my name. It’s nice, tactical.
Marlowe Jenkins, I scrawl in all caps, just the way I used to do in high school.
I wonder if I can keep this audition list when all is said and done. No matter what, I want to remember that I was here. Against all odds, I tried again.
There might be a Dallas out there who comes to this world to see me. I want to be able to show him the list. He will know then that he can laugh alongside me. He will remember how much of him lives inside of me no matter where he goes.
He will understand that he is dead wrong, and Grease is a fun musical.