When We Were Wildflowers

Chapter 16 - Auditions

Trying out for the play seems like a good idea until our hipster drama teacher Mr. Lewis calls my name. I rise from the safety of my seat next to Poppy and contemplate fleeing from the dark auditorium and hiding between stacks of books in the library.

"Go on, now." Poppy smacks my bottom and I can't help but laugh. "Knock 'em dead."

"Okay." I nod and jog down the aisle, walk up a short set of stairs, and tiptoe into a puddle of golden light at centerstage.

I clear my throat and reach into the back pocket of my jean shorts for my phone. It lights up before me, and although I see the monologue on the screen, my eyes can't seem to focus on a single word. Alicia and I must have practiced a dozen times, and I thought I could ease right through this audition, but my shaky nerves are getting the best of me.

"Begin," Mr. Lewis urges from his seat in the front row.

In a panic, I look to the audience as my breathing grows shallow and spot Alicia's friendly sitting in the third row giving me two thumbs up. Her smile on mellows my anxiety and gives me the courage to continue.

We practiced. I've got this.

Taking a second look at my phone, the words come into focus and recite the first line of the monologue, almost from memory.

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet."

Go slowly, and breathe. Alicia told me that when we practiced, and the memory of her calming voice brings me back to center.

I reach out dramatically, take a deep breath, and continue the monologue in a frustrated tone, which isn't too difficult considering I am still annoyed over Mom's ban on all things Poppy.

"'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, Nor arm nor face nor any other part Belonging to a man. O be some other name."

With this, I shake my head (but don't go as far as Alicia did when we practiced and dramatically brought her hand to her brow.)

"Thank you." Mr. Lewis cuts me off with a loud clap, followed by a smattering of applause from the dark expanse of the auditorium

I take a bow. Am I supposed to do that? I can't remember, but I shuffle offstage slightly embarrassed but mostly relieved.

Mr. Lewis calls another name and I hold my breath. "Poppy Cooper."

Poppy winks at me with a confident smile she passes me in the aisle on her way to the stage. Although she seems ready, I'm suddenly nervous all over again, breaking out in a cold sweat, as if it's me about to step into the spotlight.

"Mr. Lewis, I've prepared an original monologue for my audition." Poppy stands straight as an arrow with her eyes focused somewhere on the ceiling above us, as if she is readying herself to unleash something powerful into the rafters. I shift in my seat.

"Now is not the time--" Mr. Lewis begins to caution Poppy, but before he can finish his sentence, she jumps into action, running downstage and dropping to her knees.

"Please. Give me a chance." She cries with pleading eyes, like this very audition is a matter of life and death. I can't tell if she's serious or this is part of the act.

"Everyone is auditioning with the same monologue, you see, it helps me compare." Mr. Lewis clears his throat and strokes his scraggly beard. "You know what, I'm going to go out on a limb here and let you perform your own work."