Always Never Yours(87)
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Jody walking toward the door.
Asking for the Juliet role might just be putting myself in the same position once again. Jody could say no, and I would have to watch Alyssa take everything I’ve earned. But I have to try. I’m happy I tried with Owen. I know deep down I am. Even if things with him are over without having hardly begun, I don’t have time to fall apart right now. The play’s too important.
I march up to Jody, sidestepping everyone in my way. Her hand’s on the door. I slide in front of her, stopping her from leaving, and her expression hardens.
“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” I say in a single breath. “It was unprofessional and disrespectful to you and to everyone involved in the production.”
“Yes, it was,” she says, unwavering. “I don’t have time for this. I’ll deal with you after the performance.”
“No, we have to talk now,” I tell her. I’ve talked back to Jody before, but this degree of boldness startles even me. It definitely gets her attention—she drops her hand from the door and crosses her arms. “You need to give me the role back,” I continue before she can reprimand me.
Surprise joins the sternness in her eyes. “Why’s that?”
“I didn’t think I could relate to Juliet before. I thought she was an idiot, giving up everything for a guy with mediocre flirting skills.” Jody raises an eyebrow but doesn’t smile. “But I understand her now.” I pause, hoping she’s willing to hear more.
“What do you understand, Megan?” she asks, sounding tired.
Encouraged, I go on. “Everyone’s an idiot like Juliet sometimes. Or everyone should be. Juliet dares to care about something. It makes her do crazy things—crazy like confronting her director in the middle of a crowded hotel lobby to beg for something she probably doesn’t deserve.” Jody permits a small grin. “I’m ready to be like that. To care. I want to be Juliet, for you, for everyone in the play who I’ve worked with—and for me. I want this.”
I finish my monologue, the most impassioned one I’ve ever given, and there’s a horrible, quiet moment. Not quiet in the lobby, obviously, but between us, there’s the silence of the empty stage before the curtain rises.
“Finally,” she says at last. “I didn’t come talk to you yesterday because I was hoping you’d come to me. You’re a wonderful director, Megan. I’ve seen you break down and explain countless characters, all but delivering the lines yourself. I gave you the role of Juliet because I knew you could do it, but I wanted you to realize you could do it, too.”
A grin spreads across my face. “Wait,” I say hesitantly, “does this mean I have the role?”
“What do you think?” Jody gives me a wry smile. It’s all the answer I need.
Relief races through me, followed by the thrill of this having actually worked. Then—“What about Alyssa?” I wonder aloud.
“That’s the other reason I’m glad you came to talk to me.” Jody shakes her head, sounding relieved herself. “One of our chaperones caught Alyssa trying to sneak back into her room this morning during room checks. I don’t know where she went last night, but the conduct handbook requires I send her home, which would have meant forcing Jenna Cho to memorize the entire play in two hours. Now Jenna won’t have to, and one of the stagehands will be reading Lady Montague.”
She checks her watch. “Better get in costume, Juliet.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
JULIET: My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep. The more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
II.ii.140–2
I DO A THOUSAND THINGS IN THE next hour. I hurry up to my room, where my dad gives an honest-to-god cheer when I tell him I’ve got the part. I practically have to push him out the door before I take the world’s fastest shower. Throwing on my sweats, I walk with wet hair dangling down my back to the parent chaperones’ room, the Lady Montague dress wrapped in a ball under my arm. It takes reciting a portion of my final monologue to convince Jeremy’s mom I need the Juliet costume back. I catch her grumbling about having to re-re-alter the dress.
Before I change, I drop by the dining room to grab an apple, which I’ve eaten by the time I’ve reached my room. I pull my costume on—no help from Owen this time, unfortunately—and text Anthony, who deserves an explanation, and Eric, who wants directions to the theater. If I survive the play, I’ll try to corner him in the back and convince him to at least say hi to Anthony. I don’t think that counts as meddling. Eric decided to come on his own, after all.
I do a good job not dwelling on Owen in the fifty-seven minutes it takes me to finish everything. I rush downstairs into the lobby, which I find has emptied out, unsurprisingly. Everyone’s already on their way to the theater for an hour of makeup and mic checks before the performance.
I push open the front door, only now remembering I forgot my parka. Even with the sun streaming through the cloudless December sky, the air is eye-wateringly cold. But it’s not the end of the world—Juliet’s dress involves long sleeves and tights. I step out, hugging my arms to my chest. Only a few pedestrians cut me glances as I walk down Vista Street in full costume. I guess they’re used to this sort of thing.