Finding June

by Shannen Crane Camp

  “New Girl,” Benjamin said, pointing to me. I wasn’t really sure if this was a question or simply a statement. I worried they were trying to put me in my place right away, but quickly found that wasn’t the case.

  Ryan put his arm around me and gave me a tight squeeze. “So, New Girl, I hear you’ll be joining us for a few weeks,” he said. He shifted, putting his elbows on the table in front of him and resting his jaw on his fist. From the intent way Ryan and Benjamin stared at me, I could tell they were sizing me up.

  “Yeah, I hope so,” was all I could think of to say. How did you reply to that? Especially when you’d never met the people before in your life? On top of just being a socially awkward person, I was feeling a bit star-struck at meeting the cast of Forensic Faculty. I smiled at them sweetly, trying to look friendly even though I was scared out of my wits.

  “You’re adorable, New Girl,” Benjamin said, also resting his elbow on the table and looking at me from the other side. The whole situation was pretty awkward, to say the least.

  “She’s like a reincarnated . . . oh, what’s that girl’s name? Greta Garbo?” Ryan asked Benjamin. I knew exactly who they were thinking of, but thought it best to just keep it to myself and let them hash it out.

  “Greta Garbo was blonde,” Benjamin said, looking at his friend as if he were a complete idiot. “It’s the brunette you’re thinking of. With the big eyes.”

  “Mae West?” Ryan said.

  “Well, Mae West didn’t have big eyes she just had . . . well . . . never mind,” Benjamin trailed off, giving me an apprehensive look.

  “Lillian Gish?” I finally chimed in helpfully.

  “Yes!” they exclaimed together, making me grin at how much they were like their characters in real life.

  “So you’re our new big star in ‘Vaudeville Vice’,” Benjamin stated in an overdramatic way, referring to the name of the first episode I’d be in.

  “Oh yeah,” I said jokingly. “I’m the biggest star you’ll ever see.”

  “I like the New Girl,” Benjamin said over my head to Ryan, on my other side.

  “She’s funny,” he agreed with a grin.

  As they continued to talk over my head, the next star to walk in caught my attention. Anna Farthing, who played Captain Juliana Ryder, was the hard-nosed woman in power on the show. She was in charge of everything and often hindered the actual process of getting things done because she wanted her team to follow the rules. Of all of the characters on the show, she was the one I was most intimidated to meet. If she was anything like the character she played, then she was a pretty terrifying person.

  The boys must have seen my eyes watching Anna like a hawk, because Ryan quickly said, “She’s not a man-eater in real life.”

  I started, surprised by his sudden exclamation right next to me. I turned to him with big eyes. “Was I that obvious?” I asked sheepishly.

  “Not really,” he said, shooting a sideways glance at Benjamin, who snorted to cover up a laugh. “You may have looked like your puppy got run over when she walked in—”

  “But other than that, you were very collected,” Benjamin finished with mock seriousness. I sighed deeply at the two of them. This was going to take some getting used to.

  As soon as Anna set her large leather purse down, she walked over to me and extended her hand. “You must be June,” she said in a thick British accent. The fact that she had an accent caught me off-guard, but I tried to recover quickly as I shook her outstretched hand.

  “Yes, I’m June,” I said, sounding brilliant, I’m sure.

  “I’m Anna,” she explained, though I knew exactly who she was . . . and I’m sure she knew that too.

  “It’s very nice to meet you,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound too star-struck, even though I was doing flips inside.

  “Very nice to meet you too,” she answered as the phone in her hand buzzed. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this,” she said, looking down at the screen in concern before leaving the room with one hand over her ear and the other holding her phone.

  “She’s British?” I asked the two boys the second she was out of earshot.

  “Happens every time,” Benjamin said with a sad shake of his head.

  “Why is it that no one ever knows when a British person puts on an American accent, but the second I do my English accent, people are all over me about how awful it sounds?” Ryan asked Benjamin and me.

  “Probably because your English accent is awful,” Benjamin replied with a laugh. Ryan reached behind my back and shoved him playfully, but Benjamin had gotten his phone out and barely noticed as his thumbs flew across the keyboard.

  “Hey, Candice is picking up coffee. What do you want?” he asked without missing a beat in his text.

  “Iced café mocha,” Ryan said, now looking down at his phone as well.

  “New Girl, what do you want?” he asked, still not looking up.

  “I don’t drink coffee,” I said simply. Both boys stopped texting and looked over at me as if I were from an alien planet.

  “That’s weird,” Ryan finally said, as if he had made a study of me and had come to this conclusion after much deliberation.

  “You don’t drink it ever?” Benjamin asked, unable to comprehend this.

  “Never,” I said, feeling very out of my element. The uncomfortable moment was gratefully interrupted when an angel walked into the room. The angel, of course, was Lukas Leighton. Today he was wearing tight jeans, a plaid button-up collared shirt and aviator sunglasses, making him look like a walking piece of art. He had his trademark five o’clock shadow covering his cheeks, and his dirty blonde hair stuck up stylishly in every direction.

  He was staring down at his phone when he walked in and didn’t look over as he took his seat at the table opposite us. I didn’t take this as rude, however, since he was obviously very preoccupied with his phone. It was probably someone important. He kept his head down, engrossed in his phone and occasionally touching the screen.

  “Here we go,” Ryan said in hushed tones.

  “Another one bites the dust,” Benjamin agreed in an equally reverent voice.

  I turned a playful glare on them. “Do you guys have to have a running commentary on everything?” I asked. They nodded in unison, their faces completely serious.

  “Listen, New Girl. I don’t care if you like the boy . . . just please don’t sleep with him until after we do your episodes,” Benjamin said, making me blush a deep crimson.

  “It’ll really make your on-screen chemistry awful,” Ryan agreed.

  “I can absolutely promise you that won’t be an issue,” I reassured them as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Benjamin shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to his phone, but Ryan apparently wasn’t giving up that easily.

  “You’re kind of conservative, aren’t you?” he asked, the joking tone gone from his voice.

  “Yeah, something like that,” I replied, trying not to bring up the fact that I was Mormon. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of my religion—not by any means. Mostly I just didn’t want to get into a religious or political argument during my very first table read. I was used to getting weird questions from people at school, and it had kind of trained me to know when the mention of my religion would be a teaching opportunity or when it would turn into an argument or an excuse to make fun of it.

  “Good for you,” he said unexpectedly, smiling and making me feel like I had already made a friend in the cast.

  “Thank you,” I replied, in an equally as good-natured tone.

  Anna eventually returned to the room and took her seat near Lukas. He looked over at her and the two began to talk about something. I strained my ears to try to catch snippets of the conversation but couldn’t really hear anything. I normally wasn’t a nosey person, but when Lukas Leighton was sitting a few feet away from me, you could bet I was going to try to hear what he said.

  Right before one o'clock, the last two stars on the show walked into the room together, tal
king in low, playful tones. Joann Hoozer, who played Jackie the medical examiner, was in her mid-twenties and absolutely gorgeous. She had long blonde hair, honey brown eyes, and a smile bright enough to land airplanes on. She was tall, skinny, and graceful, just like a movie star should be.

  With Joann was Will Trofeos, the actual star of the show. Everybody loved him as the hotshot detective Charles Bagely, who had taken Lukas Leighton’s character Cutter under his wing to teach him the art of deciphering a crime scene. He was probably in his mid-to-late forties, though I wasn’t exactly sure of his age. That was the thing with Hollywood—everyone looked a lot younger than they really were. He had a thick Spanish accent, dark skin, black hair, and chestnut eyes. For an older guy, he was definitely good-looking.

  Joann and Will sat in the two seats right next to Lukas, and the rest of the crew soon joined us at the table. I was glad that Benjamin and Ryan were sitting on either side of me. They had been so friendly already that it felt like they were my own private moral support. Looking around the room, I couldn’t help but notice how glamorous everyone looked. Joann was leaning on her elbow and talking to Will, her diamond encrusted watch catching the light perfectly as her blonde hair cascaded down her bare shoulder in loose curls. Even Lukas, who you could tell was trying to go for the artsy "I don’t care about wearing trendy clothes" look, had probably spent more on his plaid shirt than I had on my entire wardrobe.

  Something about these people just said they were important, and I suddenly felt inadequate in the sundress I had bought at the thrift store because I thought it made it more "vintage." I tugged at one of the cap sleeves on my dress uncomfortably, wishing it looked more expensive in this room jam-packed with designer labels. Ryan and Benjamin somehow sensed my discomfort, because they exchanged a quick glance before leaning in to me again.

  “Just relax,” Benjamin said quietly.

  “Yeah, table reads are honestly no big deal, all right? Half of the time we don’t even act . . . we just read through the script like robots so that the department heads can stop us every five seconds and tell us what kind of clothespins they’ll need to keep the lighting right . . . or something,” Ryan said in exasperation.

  “Most of the time we have no idea what the crew is talking about. They have weird names for things,” Benjamin said, looking confused at the mere mention of these supposedly odd nicknames.

  “Like what?” I asked. I was actually pretty interested in what new vocabulary I’d pick up on set. That, and I really wanted something to distract me from my nerves.

  “Well, like clothespins. They call them . . . what is it, Benjamin?” Ryan asked, snapping his fingers as if that might help him remember.

  “C47s . . . or C42s . . . I'm not sure. I know it has the letter C in it though.”

  “Right! Why not just call them clothespins? Is it really that much easier to say C47?” Ryan asked, to which I just shrugged. Benjamin looked like he had thought of a clever response for Ryan, but he was silenced when Mr. Hill stood up at the table to indicate we’d be starting the table read.

  “Okay, so today we’ll read the script for episode ten in season six, titled ‘Vaudeville Vice’,” he said stiffly, looking like he’d done this so many times that it now bored him to have to be here. “We’ve got a new face with us today,” he said, instantly making my stomach churn. “Give a little wave, June.”

  I waved nervously at the room full of faces I’d seen every Thursday night for years. Joseph and I watched the show every week, never missing an episode. And now we’d be watching me. This was all so weird. As I looked at the people surrounding me, I started to feel like maybe I could do this. Everyone seemed to be smiling, except for Joann—she just wore an expression of pained boredom. I couldn’t tell if she had spaced and didn’t hear Mr. Hill ask me to say hello, or if she just didn’t care and therefore didn’t acknowledge my existence. Whatever the answer was, I was glad that everyone else seemed happy to see me. This might not be too bad after all.

  After my brief introduction, we began the table read. I didn’t have a single line until halfway through the script, so I let myself get lost in everyone else saying their lines. It was so bizarre to see all of the characters around me, acting like they were in character, but not actually moving around and doing the things they were talking about. It took me a few pages to get used to the actors saying lines like their characters would, but then breaking character to look at one another, laugh at a line they had said wrong, or ask a question about how a scene should be played. It didn’t feel like watching actors playing a character; it felt more like the people I had seen on TV all these years suddenly stepping out of their typical personalities.

  The first half of the script seemed like a normal episode of Forensic Faculty. I was actually in the very first scene, but all I did was scream. I was supposed to be onstage during a performance; the "lovely assistant" to my magician co-star. In the scene, he steps into our disappearing man trick (a large painted box on the stage) and instructs me to close the box. I wait and make a few grand gestures before reopening the box, only to have my co-star’s body fall out—dead as a doornail. Then I scream and the opening credit sequence rolls.

  There was someone sitting near Mr. Hill saying all of the non-speaking parts of the script. He was a mousy little man with thinning hair and thick-rimmed glasses, but he spoke his part with gusto. He read the descriptions, actions, and settings between dialogue to give the cast some exposition for the scenes.

  After my mostly silent opening scene, the cast fell comfortably into reading their lines. The case of Edward, my dead co-star, made its way to the detectives, where Rich and John (played by Ryan and Benjamin) made a few cracks about vaudeville being dead. I had to stifle a laugh at the easy way they said their quick back-and-forth remarks across my seat between them, but was quickly silenced by Anna’s terrifyingly powerful voice as she read in character as Captain Juliana Ryder. Her British accent had vanished completely. The captain was, of course, telling off Rich and John for the cavalier way in which they discussed the crime scene, as per usual. While the captain was scolding the boys, Charles Bagely and Cutter came into the scene, ready to be assigned to the case. That's when the real action of the script began.

  Lukas and Will read their parts, which seemed to make up a good chunk of the script. At one point their characters visited Jackie, the medical examiner, and it was the first time I’d really heard Joann speak since she’d come into the room. Her voice was deep and smooth, instantly making me think of a smoky-voiced lounge singer. She twirled her blonde hair as she read, and I couldn’t help but stare at how elegant she was. There was something about her that just made me feel like I was a little girl in a room full of grown-ups: tolerated, but not really expected to participate.

  After Charles and Cutter talked to Jackie to discover the means of the murder (arsenic), they decided to head over to the theatre, where they’d meet me. Up until this point I’d been relatively relaxed about the read through. Honestly, it just felt like I was watching another episode of Forensic Faculty. But now I was actually going to have to participate. I cleared my throat nervously and scanned my lines to make sure I wasn’t about to sound like a five-year-old trying to read Shakespeare.

  “Interior. Day. Charles and Cutter walk into an empty dimly-lit theatre,” the mousey man next to Mr. Hill read.

  “This place is a dump,” Will Trofeos read, pulling a face as if he were actually looking at a dingy theatre. I tried to pay close attention to exactly what Will was doing. I wanted to make sure I didn’t sound like I was reading the script and have the whole cast think I couldn’t act, but at the same time, I wanted to make sure I didn’t over-act and seem like I didn’t know what to do at a table read.

  “Yeah, and they hire killers,” Lukas said with a smirk at Will. I couldn’t tell if Lukas was smirking at him because that’s what Cutter would do, or if he just thought the line was funny. Was I supposed to be making my character’s facial expressions? Should I
gesture too, if the script called for it, or should I hold the script and not move my hands at all? I was definitely over-thinking this whole thing. I really needed to take a step back and relax. It wasn’t that big of a deal—I just had to do what I’ve been doing my whole life.

  “We don’t know that, Cutter,” Will said, his tone suddenly serious. “Remember what I told you about coming onto a crime scene? You have to go in with a blank slate or you let your judgment get clouded by preconceived notions,” he chided in his thick Spanish accent.

  “Got it,” Lukas mumbled moodily.

  “All right, so the body was found in that box over there,” Will said, pointing across the room at me and making my heart skip a beat.

  “Who found him?” Lukas asked, glancing at his phone under the table. I peeked around the room to see if anyone else had noticed, but they all had their eyes trained on the script, so I quickly dropped my eyes back to the page.

  “His assistant found him during the performance. Sent him into the box to disappear—guy comes out thirty seconds later ready for the freezer.”

  “It was her,” Lukas said matter-of-factly.

  “Cutter,” Will answered in an exasperated tone, like a father rebuking his son.

  “What? Who else would know exactly when he’d go into that box?”

  “I don’t know,” Will answered with strained patience. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

  “Fine, but I say we talk to her first,” Cutter stated in the cocky tone I’d heard so many times on the show before. That was usually the first giveaway that he was wrong.

  No matter how innovative a crime show tried to be, there always seemed to be a pattern. On Forensic Faculty, for example, the detectives would question a series of suspects in the first fifteen minutes. They would strongly suspect someone who would ultimately be innocent, and then they’d find another person to blame who would also prove innocent. About ten minutes before the end of the show, they’d catch the real killer, who would almost always be someone they questioned but assumed wasn’t the killer because they had an alibi or gave the team seemingly helpful information to send them in a different direction. Sometimes it would be a person they only mention in passing so the viewer would think they didn’t have a big role to play in the story.