Mirror Image

Seven

Lacey seems decent. I like her, and I didn't expect to like anyone in this place. She even came up with a work around so I can talk to people on What's App again. I had no idea there was an app that will work on the laptop. I have to ask Dad if I'm adopted. Bet that will blow his mind. Mom never said anything about it. Just that they were both orphans as such.

Mom and Dad really only had each other, come to think of it. They both lost both their parents before they met. Her brother was never around. I only met my cousins at the will reading. I wonder if my cousins will come visit. Scratch that. I don't want Uncle Stan around. He's the slimiest money hungry ass there is. Him and his probate challenge. No wonder Mom never mentioned him.

Hmmm... never thought about it much, but I don't have any family except Dad now. Not really.

There's the double doors. Pretty fancy. Let's go see if the drama teacher is worth anything.

Zena pulled the door open, and a voice calling from the stage sounded clearly, as if the woman was standing next to her.

Okay, she's got projection down. Maybe I can learn from her.

"Can you flip the stopper down on the door, so it stays open, Lacey? I didn't think you were interested in drama."

"Sure, but I'm not Lacey!"

This is getting old already, and it's only the second teacher to say it. How many more times am I going to hear it?

She looked for the little leg on the bottom of the door and used her toe to push it down into place. Not trusting it, she let go of the heavy leather padded door watching to see if it would slide. It didn't and more kids pushed by her running down the center aisle toward the stage.

"If you're not Lacey, then who are you?" The teacher asked.

The tallest guy in the group waved at her to come down with the rest of them and she walked into the dimly lit space. It was like walking a fashion show runway and every eye in the place was on her. All it needed was a spotlight to light her up. She felt the familiar thrill of playing to an audience.

"I'm Emmaline Desaulier, drama coach and producer of our annual play."

The woman had an impressive set of lungs, and she knew her stuff. It had taken Zena over a month of practice to learn how to project a whisper like the stunning dark haired actress did. She decided to mimic the soft introduction from halfway down the seats.

"I'm Zena Henderson. Lacey could be my identical twin."

The teacher's delicate black eyebrow winged up.

"Well then, this year is definitely not going to be boring. Let's get the introductions done all the way around. I want each of you to take center stage and tell me why you are in drama class. I can already see Zena has training. Can any of you use a whisper like we did?"

Challenge issued she continued, "I'm Miss Emma. I don't hold with the formal old school way of addressing teachers. In here, I'm your coach and you can expect to work hard to learn new skills to draw an audience into the world you will create. Zena, you might as well go first."

Shit, what do I say and how much do I tell them about my Mom, the plane crash and everything else? She's not a pushover who will leave me to slide through. I have an idea. Maybe Dad has a point. Maybe I should be turning over a new leaf. I know I'm good at acting. I had the starring role in last year's play. I can fake the everyone's friend role for now. I wonder what it would be like. I hope Dad won't be mad at me for what I'm going to do.

Zena climbed the stairs at stage right, stopped to take a couple of steadying breaths, and walked into the middle of the stage.

Thank you, Mom, for the ballet and ballroom dance lessons.

Even if she didn't excel, they taught her how to move with grace and proper posture.

"I'm Zena Henderson. I learned how to whisper like this at a weekend seminar in Denver where I used to live. Dad and I moved here three days ago. I live in the Pettigrew mansion on the hill up from the river. I already know it's supposed to be haunted, but I haven't seen a ghost yet." A small wave of giggles erupted across the audience. "I'm a senior this year, and I've still got to get permission, but I'm going to have a Halloween party in the ballroom. I'm hoping you all can come."

Applause greeted her announcement. She took her bow, feeling like a queen. This could work out. She came down the stairs as the gangly guy from earlier came toward the stairs. He bowed to her, and reached out for her hand, bringing it to his lips. In a quiet voice, for her ears only, he whispered, "Well done. I'm Percival, Percy to everyone but Miss Emma."

Zena turned to watch him, and he tripped, catching himself by the handrail before he went down. Everyone around her laughed, but she savored the feeling his kiss left on her hand. No boy had ever tried that before.

"I'm Percy Wilson. Yeah, I grew about seven inches since you saw me in June." He paused as smirks blossomed across the front row of seats. "I'm not sure I won't end up falling over my two left feet, but I can say I'm looking forward to this last year at New Hampton County High. Let's make this the year we out do North Concord for the best play in the state."

More applause and a rhythmic cheer of Hampton, Hampton repeated for a couple of minutes before he took his bow. Zena touched the spot burning on the back of her hand. It was like his lips branded her.

Percy came down the stairs with exaggerated care, emphasizing exactly how much he didn't trust his body at the moment. Walking over to the side aisle where she had a seat close to the wall, he eased himself down beside her.

"I'm glad that's out of the way. I always hate this part of the first day of drama class." His voice was deep, like the best radio announcers and news anchor's were. "I can already tell you aren't Lacey. I've thrown her around in the air often enough. Your legs aren't as muscular, and I think you might be about ten pounds lighter than her."

"Percival stop flirting with Zena! Next." Miss Emma pointed to the girl sitting on the other side of the aisle.