15 A Hero Is Born
FIFTEEN
A Hero Is Born
It took me months to want to hug Dad again. And for all that time, his affair was the elephant in whatever room we shared. But when he finally said he wanted to rip off the Band-Aid and talk about it with me, we turned a corner. I didn’t quite forgive him, but I let him back in.
But the truth was that if it hadn’t been for Heroes, my parents probably would have split up for good. Not long after Mom and I returned home, I got a call that sent my family off on the road to second chances.
“This is one of the best scripts I’ve read in years,” one of the important people on my team said. “It’s got action and drama and those stunts you love to do. The cheerleader character is made for you. This is your big chance.”
I promised to read the script, but I couldn’t help wondering what the deal was with me and cheerleaders.
I’d just finished filming Bring It On: All or Nothing, where I’d played—you guessed it—a cheerleader.
I didn’t want to be typecast, but I trusted my team.
If they said this was a perfect part for me, I had to audition.
I didn’t know it, but they also had it on good authority that I was one of the top choices for the role they’d described.
My team had learned about Heroes after getting a call from a veteran casting executive who had cast me in a show whose pilot was never picked up.
He kept tabs on my career, though. When NBC teed up Heroes and started searching for actors to play Claire Bennet, a Texas cheerleader with miraculous self-healing powers, this same casting executive happened to work at NBC.
He picked up the phone, called the producers, and said, “For the part of Claire, you’ve got to meet Hayden Panettiere. ”
One call led to another, and I hopped on a flight to LA.
I really wanted this part, and I walked into my audition so focused it was like I had tunnel vision.
If there was anybody else in the room waiting for their audition, I didn’t notice.
I was there for one thing and one thing only, and that was to say my lines without my hands shaking, my pulse racing, or my words getting caught in my throat.
(Also, to get the part.) Standing in front of the directors, I muzzled my stage fright, took a deep breath, settled my nerves, and visualized myself as Claire Bennet. Then I went for it.
I didn’t freeze up. In fact, playing out the scene I’d rehearsed for days felt natural.
“Thank you for coming in,” the casting director said after I finished. “But please don’t leave yet.”
I’d started to walk toward the door, so I stopped short and turned. “Do you need me for something else?” I asked.
“No, not at all. We just wanted to say congratulations.”
“For what?” I asked. “I didn’t do anything but audition.”
The casting director laughed. “For getting the part. You are Claire Bennet.”
I thought my heart was going to explode with gratitude.
After I thanked everyone, I ran out to the waiting room to find Mom. I knew this news was going to make her prouder of me than she’d ever been before.
“Mom, I have to tell you something,” I said when I reached her, “but I can’t do it here. So, let’s go now.” I absolutely, positively couldn’t risk anyone else hearing me. Not only would talking disrupt whatever process the other girls were going through, but I very much didn’t want to hurt them.
Mom’s version of quiet talk was a stage whisper, so when she started to ask questions, I shushed her. We grabbed our things and made our way toward the door, and as we exited, we passed a few other girls about my age. I found out later they were other actors up for the role of Claire.
As soon as we got outside, I spilled the beans.
“You what?!” Mom shouted. “No one finds out on the spot if they got a part! It just doesn’t happen that way.”
“I know,” I answered, beaming from ear to ear. “But it happened. I promise, Mom.”
Mom’s lips parted, revealing her big smile. “Hayden,” she exclaimed, “this is life-changing. Are you ready for it?”
“I am,” I said.
Mom grabbed both my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. “I am so proud of you. You’ve been waiting sixteen years for this. Now let’s go call your father.”
“I guess this means we’re moving to LA,” Dad said after Mom and I returned home.
He and Mom had spent the better part of two days discussing the pros and cons of relocating our whole family, and they’d ultimately decided that Heroes would be so demanding that I needed everyone’s support.
Dad had also closed down his flooring business so he could train to become a golf pro, and he figured that—with its perfect weather—LA was a great spot to make that his full-time job.
The big unknown was Mom and Dad’s marriage.
After Dad’s affair, they’d decided to stay together, but the tension between them was still palpable.
Their fights were more frequent, their resentments more evident, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen them kiss or say “I love you.” In fact, I don’t think I ever remembered them saying “I love you.” Everyone hoped that a change of scenery would fix things, but I decided to leave that up to Mom and Dad.
I was only sixteen years old, and I didn’t want to shoulder the burden of my parents’ problems.
I also didn’t know how a move would affect Jansen.
He was only eleven and still so sensitive that he’d just stopped sleeping with Mom and Dad the year before.
Change had always been tough for him, and there are few bigger life disruptors than leaving all your friends and starting fresh in a new school.
I also worried that Jansen’s creative, impressionable mind sometimes got a little too creative, and in a wild and woolly new place like LA, who knows where that would lead. For instance, about a year before, he’d called me while he was at a slumber party.
“This will be quick,” he said. “My friends and I are in the kitchen and just opened up my friend’s parents’ spice cabinet. If I roll some oregano into paper and smoke it, will I get high?”
I almost dropped the phone. No one in my family smoked, especially not culinary herbs.
“Jansen, do not smoke that,” I said, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “First off, it’s disgusting. And if you do smoke it, you will feel like your lungs are on fire. Okay?”
He paused. “Okay.”
Jansen clearly needed stability, good sense, and discipline. Yet here I was, about to turn my little brother’s life upside down.
Last but not least, I had to think about myself.
After my nightmarish experiences in middle school, I’d found a new group of friends in town, and we’d been thick as thieves since I was a freshman, my first year of homeschooling.
We called ourselves DASH, short for Danica, Allie, Scarlett, and Hayden, and we did everything together.
Our favorite activity, however, was throwing themed parties, including a toga bash, a Pimps and Hos party, and the Save Bella Party, which we organized when our friend Bella got grounded.
I was a full year younger than the rest of DASH, but I had more in common with them than anyone my age.
They didn’t bully me or harbor resentments; in fact, they stood by me.
I knew I’d miss them terribly, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to find a group of friends like that in LA.
But work called, and on an NBC show that had major money and promotion behind it, work was everything. Maybe I won’t have time to think about my family or friends, I thought, knowing deep down I was lying to myself. Maybe I’ll be so busy that the rest of my childhood will just pass right by.