Leo: Stage Fright Page 4

  Lydia couldn't stop herself from smiling. Robin always had that effect on her. "Oh, all right!"

  She watched the rest of her classmates as they danced down the hall, striking the loose-limbed poses of the Italian theatrical characters. The voodoo doll, the tiny dagger still protruding from its stomach, lay at the foot of her locker.

  Lydia quickly shoved the doll under some leotards and tennis shoes in the back of her locker, then raised up on her toes and knocked loose a box high on the top shelf. Inside it was her own mask, that of Columbina, a female clown known for her quick-wittedness.

  She put the mask on and struck a pose. "You see before you a very different girl," she said, imitating Robin's Italian accent. "A girl with a secret."

  Robin leaned in close to her ear and whispered, "Under ze mask we are all different people. With many different secrets."

  Lydia kicked her locker shut dramatically and raced to join the others. If I hurry, maybe I can catch a glimpse of Eric still walking to class. Laughing gaily, Lydia turned the corner and froze – Eric was nowhere to be seen. That's strange. He was just here.

  Before Lydia could think any more about it, Robin took her by the hand, and the two clowns continued on their merry way.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Neptune's vibes are very colourful today, but very deceptive. Someone is lying to you, but it is such a sweet deceit that you are completely befuddled. It might be harmless, so don't blow a gasket. Just sift your information carefully.

  “Can we talk in private, Lydia?"

  Garrett Hughes, never the life of any party, looked grimmer than ever. He was standing outside the Backstage Club when Lydia arrived (late, as usual) for the regular Wednesday night meeting of their theatre club, Caught In The Act.

  "Uh, sure, Garrett," Lydia said, walking briskly towards the big wooden door leading into the coffee house. "Maybe after the meeting."

  Garrett put one hand across the door, blocking her way. "Not afterwards. Now."

  Lydia sighed in exasperation. "Garrett, you know tonight's meeting is extremely important," she said. "We're discussing the upcoming try outs for Evita, which, as you well know, is only the biggest, most ambitious show the DYT has ever attempted."

  "If it's so important to you," Garrett replied sarcastically, "you might have put out the effort to be on time. I've already wasted half an hour waiting for you."

  "Oh, please! How could I know you wanted to speak to me? I'm not a mind-reader—"

  "Look, this is no time to bicker," he cut in. "What I have to say is very important."

  Something in his tone of voice made Lydia pause. Garrett looked very uneasy, almost jittery.

  "OK." Lydia checked the Swatch watch on her wrist. "But make it quick. I don't want to miss anything tonight."

  "Let's go where it's private." Garrett took her arm and pulled her around the side of the building. "No one else should hear this."

  "Garrett, really!"

  "Be quiet, and listen." Glancing round to make certain no one was near, Garrett said, in a low voice, "Lydia, I've gone over and over what happened to you Saturday night."

  "Don't tell me," she said, unable to resist mocking his seriousness. "You found the techie who left the trap door open and he's to be severely punished. No Twinkies for a week and a public thrashing at tonight's meeting."

  Garrett ignored her sarcasm. "I'm certain someone deliberately left that trap door open for you to fall into it."

  Lydia felt the blood drain out of her face. "What makes you so sure?"

  "Because, after the accident, I returned to the light booth to re-program the board." Garrett took a deep breath. "I discovered the entire electrical system had been tampered with. Someone made very sure it would be pitch-black on that stage."

  "But how could they know it would be me? Someone else could just as easily have crossed the stage and fallen into it."

  "Yeah, I've wondered about that," Garrett said, nodding. "Lydia, did anyone tell you to return to your dressing room once the party started?"

  "Well, for starters, you did," she said, without flinching.

  "I did?" He seemed not to remember.

  "Right at the beginning of the party. You were very insistent that I return my costumes to wardrobe."

  He shrugged his shoulders. "Me?"

  "Oh, come on, Garrett!" she said with a sigh. "Yes, you."

  "Well, I didn't do it!" he protested. "Who else?" he asked.

  She was about to give him the list – Robin, A.J., Bill, that new girl – when she suddenly thought better of it.

  What if Garrett is misleading me on purpose? What if he is the culprit, and pretending otherwise?

  "Look, I promise to think about it and get back to you. In the meantime..." Lydia gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. "We're missing the meeting."

  Before he could say more, she turned and headed for the door. Her stomach was churning, as if suddenly filled with a swarm of butterflies. First the accident, then the voodoo doll, and now Garrett's announcement that the accident was deliberate. Lydia was finding it hard to control the rising sense of panic inside her.

  She opened the heavy wooden door and quietly stepped into the back of the meeting, which was well under way. The room was packed with most of the cast and crew from My One and Only, and as many others not in the last show who were interested in being in the next production.

  Lydia scanned the room carefully. If what Garrett said was true, then someone at this very meeting had deliberately tried to hurt her. Very scary.

  A.J. was seated at the side, near the front. She spotted Lydia and waved.

  Odd. A.J. hasn't spoken to me since Saturday night. And now here she was, signalling for Lydia to join her. Maybe she's over it. Lydia hoped so. She hurried to take the chair next to A.J.

  In the front of the room, the club's treasurer Corky Thoman was giving a report on the club's finances. As he droned on, A.J. whispered coolly, "I saw you with Eric. Did he ask you out?"

  Lydia blinked in surprise. "No. He helped me pick up some things that fell out of my locker. Where were you? I didn't see you."

  A.J. shrugged vaguely. "I was around."

  "What were you doing, spying on me?" Lydia asked, half-joking.

  "Don't flatter yourself," A.J. muttered between her teeth. "The, um, principal asked me to take some flyers round to different classes. I was dropping one by Eric's poetry class when I saw you."

  A.J. never lied. At least not in the past. But what she had just said was impossible. Ms Hubbard's poetry class was down a parallel hall from Lydia's locker. There were a dozen classrooms between them. A.J. couldn't possibly have seen Lydia and Eric together, unless she was hiding somewhere in the same corridor.

  "Look, A.J.," Lydia whispered back. "I don't want to fight."

  "You're the one who started this whole thing," A.J. replied.

  Fortunately Robin slipped into the chair next to Lydia, which put an end to her conversation with A.J. His goofy smile told her that he, at least, didn't have a bone to pick with her.

  What a relief.

  Lydia smiled back at Robin and he draped a friendly arm over her shoulder. Trying to put Garrett and A.J. out of her head, Lydia turned her full attention to the new speaker addressing the group.

  Marsha Boorman was the club's adult coordinator. She was on the DYT payroll as director of volunteers, chief fund raiser, grant writer, director of public relations and marketing, and (she liked to joke) "head bottle-washer". In fact, it was likely that the Youth Theatre could not survive without her. Bill Glover was a good artistic director and, on occasion, an inspired man to work with – but Marsha did the better job keeping track of the money and bodies.

  "Now that everyone's here," she said, "I need a volunteer."

  "What else is new?" Robin whispered. Not content to share his flippant attitude with Lydia, he shouted, "What is it this time, Marsha? Wash the cars of the board members? Put fresh toilet paper i
n the restrooms? Beg for money in the parking lot?"

  "All three!" Marsha shot back with a smile. "Actually, all I need is someone to make copies of the scenes to be used in the Evita auditions."

  A collective groan filled the room. No one moaned louder than Lydia, who detested what she considered "gofer" jobs. Her horoscope had deliberately advised Leos to avoid mindless activities. Standing in front of a copy machine and dealing with paper jams was, in Lydia's opinion, the height of mind-numbing tedium.

  Lydia slumped down deeper in her seat, as did everyone around her, muttering, "Don't pick me. Don't pick me."

  "Come on, people," Marsha pleaded, "I'm not asking for blood."

  After a minute of excruciating silence, during which Marsha singled out and stared at every kid in the room, she said stiffly, "I'm disappointed in all of you, very disappointed. For your information, theatre isn't a free ride. After all the staff and adult volunteers do for you, a little return favour isn't too much to ask."

  A lone voice at the back suddenly said, "I'd be happy to help."

  Lydia turned round in her chair. "It's that new girl, Page," she whispered to Robin. "Page, um, Adams, I think."

  "Whoa, time warp," Robin murmured as he saw what the girl was wearing. Page wore a sort of 1940s style dress with padded shoulders, her hair pulled into a clip at the base of her neck.

  "She could be pretty," Lydia whispered back, "if she put on a little make-up and did something with her hair. It's almost as if she deliberately tries to disappear into the woodwork."

  "Are you a member of Caught In The Act?" Marsha asked the newcomer.

  "Not exactly, no," Page said meekly.

  "Well, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave," Marsha said. "Invited guests only."

  "Not so fast!" Lydia said, getting to her feet. She wove her way through the chairs over to Page. "She's my guest. I invited Page to come tonight."

  Lydia grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her to the front of the room. It had suddenly become very important to Lydia that A.J. and the others in the club saw that Lydia was not completely self-centred, that she could care about other people.

  "Marsha and everyone," Lydia announced, "please say hello to Page Adams. She's new to Dallas, but is a real theatre pro. We don't have time to go into all of Page's credits, but most recently she starred as Dorothy in a national touring company of The Wizard of Oz."

  While most of the group nodded in admiration, Page said in the softest of voices, "Actually, I played Glinda the Good Witch. And it was a local children's theatre, not a national touring company."

  "Did any of you hear that?" Lydia asked, referring to Page's volume.

  "No!" Robin shouted from the back. "Come on, Page, project!"

  "Project" was something that Bill Glover was always shouting in rehearsals, so Robin's comment made everyone laugh.

  "Hanging around with this bunch of loudmouths, Page will be bellowing in no time," Lydia said. "This girl saw every – I mean every – production of My One and Only. Which proves that she has excellent taste. So please, let's give her our warmest Dallas welcome."

  The polite applause made Page blush. "You didn't have to do that," she whispered to Lydia.

  "Stick with me, kid," Lydia said, imitating a tough Hollywood agent, "and I'll make you a star."

  "So, Page, you wouldn't mind making copies of the script?" Marsha asked.

  "I'd like to help in any way I can," Page said sincerely.

  "Well, thank you." Marsha smiled gratefully. "This group needs more people like you," she added, with a pointed look at the other club members. "And welcome to the Dallas Youth Theatre."

  "Come on." Lydia took Page's hand again. "I want to introduce you to a few people."

  As they made their way towards the back, Lydia stopped to introduce Page to everyone in the room. There were a lot of names for Page to remember, but she repeated them all, graciously telling every person, "Thank you for including me tonight."

  Lydia felt good for the first time in days. She had taken Page under her wing and people seemed to like her for it.

  Returning to her seat, Lydia motioned for Page to sit next to her. "Are you sure?" Page asked in her soft voice.

  "Go ahead, Page," A.J. said, getting up. "I'll grab another chair."

  "Robin, meet Page Adams," Lydia said.

  "Hello, Page Adams" Robin leaned over and kissed Page's hand. "Enchanté."

  Lydia was used to Robin's flirtatious antics. What caught her by surprise was that he didn't let go of Page's hand until A.J. had returned with a chair.

  "Don't let Marsha stick you with all the dirty work," A.J. advised.

  "I stand forewarned," Page said, warming up for the first time. "This is all happening so fast."

  "You should try out for Evita" Robin told her.

  "Yes!" Lydia added. "That's a great idea!"

  "Oh, I couldn't." Page lowered her long lashes. "I mean, I guess I can sing all right. But I just got to town, and the thought of actually being on stage at DYT – it's out of my league."

  "Oh, don't talk like that," Lydia insisted. "Everyone starts with a bit part. Mine was as one of the Lost Boys in Peter Pan. I didn't have a solo, didn't have a single line in fact, but still I was petrified when we opened. By closing night, I was on my way."

  "On her way to being a scenery-chewing ham sandwich," Robin kidded.

  "You should talk!" Lydia shot back. "At least my voice never cracked during a performance."

  "Lydia, please don't tell that story," Robin said, covering his head with his hands and wincing.

  "You should've been there, Page," Lydia pressed on, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Opening night of The Music Man. The theatre is SRO – standing room only. Every critic in town is there. Robin was in the barbershop quartet. When his solo came, his voice suddenly leapt up about three octaves. Hysterical!"

  "Yeah, really funny," Robin said, rolling his eyes.

  "Oh, I would've died if that happened to me," Page said sympathetically.

  "What you need," Lydia told her, "is some confidence."

  "True," Page admitted. "Do you have some bottled that I can drink?"

  "Stop this right now!" Lydia put her hands on her hips. "Promise you'll let me help you with your audition."

  Page stared at her in shock. "You'd actually do that for me?"

  "I know what they want to see," Lydia told her. "A.J., Robin, we'll all help, won't we?"

  "Sure." A.J. smiled at Page, and even gave a friendly nod to Lydia. It wasn't as dramatic as a full smile, but it was a start.

  "Absolutely," Robin added, smiling at Page. "I know they'll find some part for you. Please try out. If only to protect me from the wicked and cruel Lydia."

  Lydia's laugh caught in her throat. Was Robin serious? Did he really think she was cruel and wicked? Now stop. You're just being paranoid.

  Page agreed to consider the idea. Then Lydia, Robin, and even A.J., spent the next hour telling Page everything she'd need to know about life at DYT.

  Lydia checked her watch. "Oh, God. My mom's been waiting out front for fifteen minutes. I'd better run."

  "You're leaving?" Page asked.

  "Got to," Lydia said, standing up. "I still have too much homework waiting for me." She leaned down and gave Page a hug. "I'm so glad you came tonight."

  "I owe my coming to you," Page said. "I can't believe you all want me as a friend."

  "Want my mom to drop you home?" Lydia asked, about to leave.

  "Oh, I can take the bus," Page said. "That's how I got here."

  "Page, you don't want to be riding on a bus at this hour," Robin said. "I'll drive you home."

  Perfect, Lydia thought as she left the coffee house. If any boy can make her bloom, it's Robin. And he's been wanting a girlfriend for the longest time. Who knows? Maybe something will work out there. He'll certainly help her spruce up her look. After that, they'll make a cute couple.

  Ste
pping into the warm evening air, Lydia felt happy, almost serene. It felt good to help someone. Especially someone new and so uncertain.

  Now if only she could get A.J. to understand the situation with Eric. And call a truce with Keenan. She headed towards the waiting car.

  "Hey, Lydia!" someone shouted from behind. It was Garrett, chasing after her again. "I didn't see you leave," he said, catching his breath.

  "My mom is waiting." She gestured towards her mother's old beat-up station wagon in the parking lot.

  "I know. I just want you to keep an eye out for anything strange."

  She wanted to tell Garrett to leave her alone. To take his weird paranoia and bother someone else with it. But she was feeling too good to be mean.

  "Whatever you say," she said politely.

  Lydia said goodbye and ran for the car. It took a few minutes to get her brother, Jake, into the back seat and the groceries and herself into the front. When her mother finally pulled out of the parking lot, Lydia realized Garrett was still standing on the kerb. Watching her.

  Creepy. Lydia shivered again. Really creepy.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LEO —Feeling misunderstood by your friends? Perhaps it's time to clear the air – or make a new friend.

  Thursday, Lydia walked to school alone. This was unusual as A.J. usually swung by on Thursdays to give her a lift. But today she didn't show. She also hadn't called.

  I hope this day isn't weird. Lydia hurried up the front steps of Connally High, that confused feeling in her stomach.

  Stranger still, when she reached the front hall, she saw Page Adams. And Page was talking to Eric. They were standing by themselves, almost out of sight beside the school trophy case.

  "Well, look who's here!" Lydia remarked as she broke up what seemed to be an extremely friendly conversation.