Page 13 of Begrudgingly Yours
The change in topic makes me chuckle a little bit. “To be honest, Stacia, I’m just trying to keepmybest friend right now. There is no intention until he and I can talk about what’s going on without it being awkward.”
And gosh, that talk needs to happen as soon as possible.
SEVEN
The hallways of the drama building are as theatrical as you’d expect. Dozens of posters from past productions litter the wall from corner to corner, a blaze of colors covering what was once a boring beige wall. I admire them as I make my way to my professor’s office, where the callback list should be posted outside the door.
I try to push away the craziness from last week and focus on my mission ahead. I am determined to excel at a historical performance, which is the entire reason I took this class to begin with. This callback will determine how the rest of the semester will go. Will I be jumping headfirst into a character study this semester or will I be forced to study this classic play from the sidelines?
The thought makes me sweat, which causes some of my scent to spill into the hallway. I curse, wishing I had brought some deodorizing spray with me.
I look at my watch and see that it’s seven minutes past noon, which means the callback list should be out. I swallow heavily asI turn the corner and see a few of my classmates already looking at the laminated paper that’s taped to the wall. One guy smiles and pumps his fist before walking away. Then a girl from class, a beta, puts on a brave face but ultimately looks saddened by the results. The contrast of the two reactions makes my heart sputter.
When there’s finally an empty space in front of the list, I rip off the band-aid and step forward. My eyes suddenly find the floor very interesting, so I force my head up and look over the names. They blur together for a second before they come into focus, showing that they’re in alphabetical order. When I look at the bottom of the page, a gasp escapes me.
There it is, in typewriter font.
Veronica Cromwell
A smile takes over my face without permission. I got a freaking callback!
“Excited about your background role?” I hear just before I start to dance in celebration. Nicole walks up, her antagonizing smile flashing with arrogance. I have the immediate instinct to roll my eyes.
I’m too happy about my callback to give her any satisfaction right now. Instead of responding, I fix the strap on my shoulder and turn to walk away. When she sees her name on the callback list, she squeals like her pig just won first place at the state fair.
Before I get around the corner, she catches up to me. “So youdidget a callback. Are you going for Lady Capulet?”
I hold in my sigh as she starts to walk beside me. Her blonde hair is pulled up by a white silk bow today. It makes herlook innocent, which is a complete contrast from how she’s always acted towards me.
We met during our freshmen year in our first drama class together. Despite the fact that we were both first years, she didn’t start up any camaraderie with me. Instead, I think she viewed me as competition. Which is ridiculous, by the way. We may go for the same roles every once in a while, but I firmly believe whoever is better suited for the part will receive it.
She’s a fantastic actress, so she must really dislike me if she can’t even play nice. Nicole has always taken pleasure in belittling me, but I’m not a pushover, which has made her distaste for me even greater.
It’s sad, really. She’s talented, and I can see her playing a wonderful Juliet, but none of that matters to me. She’s just a classmate who wants to torment me.
I’ve been through too much to let any opportunity fall through my fingers. Her rivalry can stay one-sided.
“I’m thankful for whatever role I get. Good job on the callback,” I tell her cordially, hoping she’ll drop the conversation and walk away but she doesn’t.
“Well, we both knewIwould get a callback,” she mocks. “But I’m surprised, to be honest. Your monologue was nicely paced, but don’t you think you portrayed Juliet a bit too rigidly?”
When I don’t respond to her blatant insult, she keeps going. “Juliet is a hopeless romantic, young and full of optimism. You made her sound like a jaded old woman.”
“I don’t have to explain my artistic choices if I don’t want to.” I make my way out of the building, the taps of Nicole’s heels still trailing after me.
“That sounds like an excuse to me,” she retorts.
I stop in my tracks and turn towards her. She halts her movement so she doesn’t run into me. “Every iconic characterin history follows the same script. The difference is in the portrayal. The actor is the one who puts their special mark on it, so it’s not the same old boring tale time and time again. You would think you’d know that after performing for so many years. Unless you think acting is all about following a script and not breathing life into the role you’re playing, which… would make sense. Your monologue had mannerisms that were suspiciously close to Olivia Hussey’s version.”
I take a breath after I finish speaking. The word vomit came out of me like a second language, and I feel better that I didn’t keep it inside. Nicole scoffs as her face twists with anger.
“Taking inspiration is different from copying. That’s a serious accusation.”
I shrug. “I’m only pointing out the hypocrisy. I did something different, but that doesn’t make itbad. You can have your opinions, but next time, I’d greatly appreciate it if you kept them to yourself.”
Before she can say anything else, I turn and set my sights for the parking lot. I’m not going to let my supposed rival destroy this opportunity for me. I got a freaking callback, so it’s time to celebrate with some Birria tacos and sitcom reruns.
EIGHT
