by P. G. Kain
“Well, if you just want to be noticed, we could shave your head entirely. Come by after school today and I’ll use one of your dad’s razors and make you completely bald. You’ll stand out then.” I think I’m making a funny joke, but Ginger doesn’t laugh.
“I’m not so sure even that would work. Mr. Chu, the director of the school, is bald—and let’s not forget Buddha. Ming-wei will probably just rub my tummy and leave me an orange.”
Now we both laugh, but my cell phone rings before I can convince Ginger not to do anything drastic.
“It’s Honey,” I say. “Oh please, please, please let her be calling to tell me I have an audition.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out, “Ginger says. “Answer it!”
The last time I talked to Honey she was pulling me from an audition, so I’m a little nervous to answer my phone. I take a deep breath, hope for the best, and say, “Hello?”
CHAPTER 9
When the bell rings to signal the end of the school year, it feels more like a pistol going off at the start of a race than anything else. How many go-sees can I have before the end of the summer? How many spots can I book? How many chances will there be for Dad to see my face popping up on a TV in some airport, and how many opportunities will there be for me to at least come in contact with Rory?
As soon as the bell rings, I bolt down the hall with all the other kids toward the doors, like someone just released all the mice from the biology lab. I pass by Ginger, who is coming out of her final class. She sees me, waves, and shouts, “Break a you know what!” without attempting to delay me. She knows how important this is.
Once I am outside of the school building, I slow down a bit. I have plenty of time. I just wanted to get out of the building and make the end of school a reality. My summer break is miniscule this year, since I’ll be in summer school very soon.
The spot I am auditioning for today is for a new organic cookie called Organica. I’m sure the actual cookie tastes like sawdust, but for the audition I’ll have to pretend it tastes like cherry cheesecake. I always use cherry cheesecake as my flavor substitution. Ashley taught me to do that about a year ago when we booked this spot for HealthBits.
The HealthBits shoot was one of the best days I had last year. I auditioned for the spot on a Monday, had the callback on Wednesday, and by Friday I was at the booking. Ashley booked the part of my mom, and it was the second time we played mother and daughter.
I loved the HealthBits set so much I wanted to live in it. A large, modern suburban kitchen with sunlight streaming through the windows. Every detail was polished and perfectly placed, yet it still felt homey. I took a picture of the set with my camera phone and for a while I used it as my screen saver. Of course, this perfect kitchen was in the middle of a huge soundstage in the warehouse district of Queens, but the way I cropped my photo you would never know.
In the scene Ashley and I had to devour a plate of HealthBits, a snack so vile and disgusting that stray dogs would turn away from it. Ashley read the list of ingredients from the package and found out that they contained chocolate (yeah!) and seaweed (yuck!). Ashley told me to just imagine that each HealthBit was a piece of cherry cheesecake. Since cherry cheesecake is an unusual flavor, it meant my facial expression would move from curiosity to pleasure to satisfaction, which is what most commercials want. I did that, and the director loved how we worked together. Unfortunately, I never saw the finished spot because HealthBits never made it to the general public. They went out of business just after we filmed the commercial.
I press the elevator button for the seventeenth floor and wait for the ancient elevator to make its way up the building. I’m glad my first go-see of the season is at Betsy Barnes Casting. They cast a lot of kids, so chances are a lot of my friends will be there. That is one thing I love about go-sees. You never know what’s going to happen.
I get off the elevator, follow the arrow to the right, and see Millie sitting behind the sign-in desk.
“Hey, it’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen you. Has the ban finally been lifted?” Millie asks as she hands me a clipboard and I start filling out my information.
“Does everyone know I was grounded?” I ask.
“Well, Julie told Timmy, and Timmy told—”
“Millie, you don’t have to finish that sentence. If Timmy told anyone, then he told everyone.”
“Yeah, that’s how he operates. Sorry,” she says, smiling a bit. I’m not upset that Timmy blabbed about me being gone. I actually kind of like the fact that he did. It means on some level I was missed, and it’s always nice to be missed. I hand my materials to Millie and go down the hall and wait to be called in.
I open the door to the studio, and Faith is sitting in a chair looking at the storyboard for the spot. Faith prepares meticulously for each audition. She doesn’t allow even a hair out of place before she goes into the studio. I’m much more casual with it all.
There are a few other girls in the studio, but I don’t recognize any of them. I can tell by looking around the room that the casting call was not very specific. It must have said something like “all tween girls” because even though all the girls are about the same age and have the same commercial “look,” no one type is in the room. Sometimes they want all sporty blondes or all geeky redheads so when you walk in a room it’s like looking into a hall of mirrors. Today there is a lot more variety. I also notice that most of the girls are on their own. Even last year the room was filled with moms or guardians. I went out on my own a lot earlier than many of the other kids, since I was born and raised in the city.
The door to the studio opens, and a very pretty Indian girl about my age walks out. Vicky Chow, who must be running the casting session, pops out behind her, looking at her clipboard.
“Okay, Faith. You’re next.”
Faith looks a little nervous, like she’s not ready. She opens her purse and says, “Can I wait, Vicky? My mom is calling me.” She takes out her phone, which doesn’t seem to be vibrating at all. I guess it’s on some total silence setting. “Can you take someone else?” she asks, and turns to look at me.
“I haven’t really had a chance to look at the sides,” I say.
I look at Vicky, who shrugs.
“Sure, I’ll go in,” I say. Maybe helping Faith out will make her a little less tense and competitive.
I follow Vicky into the studio and start picturing a mouthwatering slice of cheesecake covered in bright red cherries.
CHAPTER 10
Vicky Chow is new at Betsy Barnes Casting. She is sweet but is one of those casting directors who treat the kids like kids. There is nothing wrong with that, I suppose, since we are, after all, kids, but still there are other casting offices where we are treated just like the adults.
Vicky asks me how school is and if I have any big plans for summer as she sets up the camera and explains the spot to me. I get the feeling she has asked the same questions to every girl who has come in here, so I just give her the answers I think she wants to hear.
School is fine. I’ll hang out with my friends this summer.
I slate by saying my name and my agency directly to the camera. “I’m Cassie Herold and I’m with Honey’s Kids.” We run through the spot twice. She gives me the simple adjustment to go a bit slower. I take a deep breath. I do the spot a second time and try not to behave like a roller coaster without brakes. Vicky grabs her clipboard and puts a check next to my name.
I walk out of the studio with Vicky, and Millie is waiting for her. “Vick, can you help us with a tech issue in Studio Three?”
“Sure, Millie. Girls, I’ll be back in a minute. Faith, you’re next.” Vicky rushes out of the waiting room to fix whatever the problem could be.
“Is everything all right with your mom?” I ask Faith. She looks at me kind of funny.
“My mom? Oh yeah, my mom. Yeah, everything is fine. Thanks for going in for me.”
“Sure, no problem,” I say. Faith smiles but goes back to s
tudying the copy. I look around the room to see if there is anybody else I know, but I don’t really recognize anyone. Well, I actually recognize a few of the girls from spots they’ve booked but I don’t actually know them. It’s weird how seeing someone on television makes you feel like you know them, even though you have never met.
Vicky comes back into the room. She smooths down her already smooth black bob and says, “I’m glad I have you girls today. Studio One is a spot for a new video game. The place is wall-to-wall boys. I don’t know how Timmy is going to make it through the day.”
Wall-to-wall boys? That means Rory might be in Studio One.
“Faith, come on in,” Vicky says, opening the door.
Faith puts her copy on the chair and reluctantly follows Vicky into the studio.
I walk out of the studio and down the hall to Studio One. There’s no harm in just walking by and looking through the window to see if Rory is in there. It’s not in the direction of the elevator, but still I could just pretend I was lost. The hallway is empty, so I walk very slowly past the door. The window in the door is just a bit too high for me to see anything at all. I can, however, hear the unmistakable rumble of boys. Since the hallway is still empty, I walk past again, but still I can’t see anything. The elevator opens, and a boy about my age in a Little League outfit walks out with his mom behind him. I figure this might be an opportunity.
I kneel down and pretend I’m tying my shoe and wait for my chance. The boy and his mom pick up a size card quickly and walk over to the studio, and as soon as they open the door I get up and just sort of join them without their knowing and walk into Studio One.
Once inside I realize I needn’t have worried about anyone noticing me. The waiting area is packed with kids and parents and their sibs and friends. I could have walked in dressed as Little Bo Peep and no one would have noticed. I decide to use this to my advantage. I casually walk over to the sign-in sheet, where everyone auditioning has to put their name, agency, and call time. I figure if Rory has already been here, there is no chance of running into him. I look down the list and even turn it over to see if he was in any of the morning spots. Nothing. Then I check to see if his agency, Theory, has had any of the slots. No one from Theory has signed in, so that means if Rory has gotten an appointment for this spot, it’s not until later.
I could simply wait here and blend in with the crowd, but what will I do when and if he shows up? How will I explain myself? I panic a bit thinking about being found in this waiting room, where I might be able to blend in but obviously don’t belong. I walk out of the room quickly and feel a sense of relief once I am back in the hall.
I push the button and wait for the elevator. I can’t believe I was so close to running into Rory on my first day back to go-sees. I could hang out in the hall or outside the building, but that would be too obvious. I get into the elevator and take out my phone to text Ginger. I know she’ll want an immediate update. I start punching in the letters on my cell as the elevator makes its slow descent. The doors open and I’m still working on my message, so I walk out without looking up from the screen and run right into Rory.
As soon as I realize what I’ve done, I’m mortified. I try to cover it up by just playing it cool. “Oh, hey, Rory. How have you been?” I think about apologizing for running smack-dab into him but figure it’s better to admit nothing.
Rory looks a little confused, and I can’t tell if it’s because I just walked into him or some other reason. The truth is, we barely know each other. I first saw Rory on a commercial for a candy bar, where he’s on a date with a girl. The commercial shows them going to a movie, and then they hold hands walking home and share a candy bar. That commercial has got to be the most romantic thirty seconds ever put on film. I probably saw that commercial a few dozen times, and somewhere around the twentieth viewing I solidified my crush on Rory. So what if we had not actually met at that point? Then about a year ago, we were part of the same crowd scene in a soap commercial.
There were so many kids there it was hard to really spend any time with Rory, but I stood next to him in line for lunch, and he introduced himself and asked me if they had any more peanut butter granola bars. Not exactly Wuthering Heights, but it was a start.
Since that booking I have been seeing him around at auditions but haven’t actually spoken to him. But it looks like that is about to change. Finally he opens his mouth, and I realize we are going to actually have some sort of conversation or something. This is way beyond a silent wave from across the room.
“What’s up, Monique?” he says, and flashes his toothpaste-commercial-worthy smile at me. For a second, I melt. I mean, that smile alone is enough to make a girl faint right there in the lobby.
I raise my hand up from my side and wiggle my fingers in what I hope resembles a wave. The elevator doors close as I stare and do my strange finger wave. Once the doors shut it’s like a spell has been broken, and I am transported back to reality.
“Monique? Monique! Did he just call me Monique?” I look around the lobby as if searching for a witness to this terrible turn of events. I was so caught up in just being in his presence that I failed to realize that he called me by an entirely different name. I could almost understand it as a mistake if he’d called me something even remotely related to my name, but it’s not like he called me Cathy or Katie or even Sassy or Lassie. He called me Monique, and I didn’t even say anything. I was so focused on the fact that he was talking to me that I failed to listen to what he was actually saying.
I thought the worst thing in the world would be not running into Rory at all. Boy, was I wrong.
CHAPTER 11
“My cousins in Toronto had a poodle named Monique. They tried to put pink bows in her hair, but she kept eating them and throwing them up,” Ginger tells me as we walk out of our apartment building.
“Ginger, that’s disgusting, not to mention far from comforting,” I tell her. We are walking to our respective summer schools. Honestly, I can’t be too mad at Ginger for her poodle story. I have told her the elevator mortification moment so many times that even I am at a loss to find a new angle on the subject. When we get to school, we sit on the steps, since we have some time before I have to face the first day of summer classes.
“Look, at least Rory knows you’re alive. Granted, he may in fact have you confused with someone else, but that’s a good sign. I mean, the fact that he knows you are alive. I’m about to go to my third year of Chinese school with Ming-wei, and he doesn’t even know I exist, so the way I see it, you’re way ahead of me.”
She’s right. Ginger has been going to the same school with Ming-wei for years, and he has never even acknowledged her presence. “Ginger, this is the year we are going to change that. If nothing else, you are going to talk to Ming-wei.”
Ginger shakes her head frantically. “No,” she says. “There is no way I could just go up to him and”—she swallows hard, like she’s is trying to get down a particularly revolting piece of meat loaf—“and talk to him.”
“Well,” I tell her, “maybe we could think of something to get him to talk to you.”
Ginger scrunches up her face, looks at her hands, and then holds them up to me. “Look, I’m already sweating just thinking about it.” Ginger has an issue with her palms sweating when she is nervous. “You better go to class. You don’t want to be late for the first day,” she says.
“Don’t change the subject. You should—”
“Well, if it isn’t two fair maidens on the steps of ye old school building,” Nevin says, interrupting me.
“Hi, Nevin,” we both say almost in unison, although Ginger’s tone is not anywhere near as annoyed as mine. I had almost forgotten that Nevin would be in my summer class. I guess that’s what they call denial.
“I better get downtown. I’ll see you guys later,” Ginger says, getting up from the steps.
“Bye, Ginger,” I say.
“Zàijiàn Wen-Ying. Zàijiàn,” Nevin says, and then turns to me. �
�I was only saying good-bye in the young lady’s native tongue using her Chinese name.” This makes Ginger smile for some reason, and she waves good-bye and heads down the block. I give Nevin a look as if to say, Can’t you just a be a little normal?
I walk into the building and don’t even have to look behind me to know that Nevin has followed me in.
“Do you think we’ll be able to use our own scientific calculators for class or will they only allow standard calculators?”
“Nevin, what in the world is a scientific calculator? A calculator is just a calculator, and who cares?”
“Actually, calculators are fascinating little machines, and scientific calculators vary a great deal in terms of . . .”
For a second I think about cutting Nevin off but realize it would only prompt him to start in on some other inane topic. Best let him run out of gas on this calculator thing and just tune him out as we take our seats.
My plan is to be super organized for this summer class. Of course, this is my plan at the start of every school year, but something happens around the second or third week. My foolproof plan for academic success gets off track, and before I know it I’ve missed a homework assignment or forgotten to study for a quiz or I’m so bored by class that I’ve totally zoned out most of the material. Not this summer. This summer I’m going to be prepared. A bad grade in this class could mean the end of commercials forever, and I am not about to let that happen. I will do whatever it takes.
“Good morning, everyone. I am Mr. Evans, and I will be your teacher for Foundations of Science this summer. Instead of starting at the beginning, I would like to start at the end.”
Oh, great. Three seconds into class and I’m already confused. What does he mean, start at the end?
“I’d like to tell you about your final exam for class.” A couple of kids groan quietly, and I’d join their chorus if I had a better idea of what the teacher was talking about. “I know no one likes to take a final exam and especially for a summer class, so your final exam will be held during the last class at the City Science Center and Museum, where you will work in teams to use the scientific principles we will cover this summer to do a variety of experiments.”
