by Jacky Gray
Leader of the Pack
Bryant Rockwell #3
Jacky Gray
Bryant Rockwell Series – A pitch-perfect blend of drama and romance for fans of “10 Things I Hate About You” and “13 Reasons Why.”
“Snappy, well-pitched and edgy. An enjoyable read which will appeal to anyone who has a sense of humour and an ear for the ironic.” – BV
The Show Must Go On – “A curious delight, with a group of main characters who are all capable of holding a reader's interest on their own. Intelligent and eclectic.” – BV
“The villain is someone everyone will recognize from their high school days and the comeuppance she gets made me wish I had a time machine and could plan the same for my high school nemesis.” – AR
To Icy – for giving my stories gorgeous, intriguing covers
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events other than those clearly in the public domain are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2017 Jacky Gray
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Front coverCopyright © 2017 Icy Sedgwick
http://www.icysedgwick.com
First published in 2017
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Contents
1 My Name is Tallulah
2 Limelight? No Thanks
3 Curse of a Pretty Face
4 Think Yourself Lucky
5 More Cupidity
6 Anything Could Have Happened
7 We Should Tell Her First
8 We’re Worth It
9 A Rose Would Smell As Sweet
10 By Any Other Name
11 Will the Real JP Please Stand Up?
12 Knight in Tarnished Armour
13 What Will Ray Say?
14 You’re My Girl, Now
15 The Evil That Boys Do
16 A Right Charmer
17 Racing With the Devil
18 Guys Don’t Give Gifts
19 Liv’s Makeover
20 Not-so-Subtle Cupids
21 It’s in His Kiss
22 A Night You’ll Never Forget
23 Manic Saturday
24 She’s More into Cavemen
25 Cherry Picking
26 Stand by Me
Glossary and Note about UK Schools
Acknowledgements
More in The Bryant Rockwell Series
Also by Jacky Gray – Hengist: People of the Horse
WorldWiseWriters
1 My Name is Tallulah
Olivia Tranter, known as Liv to her friends, sat backstage in her skimpy-topped flapper dress. Shivering in spite of the fleece over her shoulders, she listened to the inevitable banter.
“Break a leg!”
“You break two.”
“Break both legs. With bells on.”
Each drama brat tried to outdo the others as they bandied around the hackneyed phrase. Liv thought how dreadful it would be if one of them obeyed the unlikely command. They wouldn’t be much good trying to perform on crutches – or even worse, in a wheelchair. Unless their name is Ray …
All the hard work of the cast and crew of Bryant Rockwell High School’s production of Bugsy Malone was paying off. The first two performances had come together beautifully, only tonight and tomorrow to go. As Liv’s glance snagged on the drop-dead-gorgeous guy in the wheelchair, she wondered if Ray had any inkling of the dramatic changes in most of her friends (and especially her) since his arrival.
Despite the layer of greasepaint the parent volunteer was applying, Ray must have sensed her gaze, meeting it with a wink. “Ok?” he mouthed.
Liv twitched a shoulder, the only response the chorus of butterflies in her stomach would allow before resuming their angry yoga. She figured it had to be angry, the way they were dive-bombing her insides. Quite why butterflies would do yoga was another matter entirely.
The depth of Ray’s smile probably caused a host of wrinkles in his makeup. It definitely caused a mass of kinks in the wiring in her brain connected to the stomach area, pitching those butterflies into some sort of dance routine. Most likely an Argentine Tango.
Jude, sporting superstar and all-round-good-egg, approached with a script in her hand and a worried look on her face. ‘Liv. Can you help? Kirsty’s mum phoned to say she’s sick, so Miss Maines asked me to deputise for the Bangles part. I’m hopeless at learning lines.”
“Sure. But wouldn’t you be better off asking Kat? She’s doing drama, so she knows way more tricks to make the lines stick.”
“Good point. Have you seen her?”
“Over there, talking to Terry.”
Liv glanced over – they weren’t just talking, but rehearsing a scene which had fallen a bit flat on the previous night. It involved Terry getting a lot more physical with Kat than a girl should want her boyfriend to get. With another girl. Especially if that girl was her best friend.
She sighed. Not his fault. After last night’s post-show notes, the director, Miss Maines, took them aside for a quiet word. She asked if they could spice up their first romantic encounter to make it a little less like a brother-sister thing. As the director spoke, Terry looked directly at Liv, seeking reassurance she was happy with this. As if her jealousy should take precedence over a scene in the show. Well, duh!!!
Watching the pair now, she immediately saw how he’d reclaimed the compelling male lead he’d become during the audition. Bless him, had he really toned it down for fear of upsetting her? She blushed, remembering the way he’d kissed her on their first date during October half-term.
As her mind offered clichés involving legs and jelly, she shooed away the inner snark which nagged its constant refrain: It’s make your mind up time. You can’t keep stringing these lads along. They have names for girls like that.
The teeny-tiny part of her brain which occasionally stuck up for her, protested. Not a tease. Just trying to sort out the myriad conflicting messages from both guys.
Snarky, the nasty gremlin which had reigned supreme in her head for so many years, jumped on its gentle opponent with glee. Shut up, Wimpy. You haven’t done Liv any favours with the whole touchy-feely routine. Look at the state she’s in.
Liv almost groaned aloud. Since when had her Jiminy Cricket conscience evolved into a couple of cartoon characters arguing in her head? Not to mention talking about herself in the third person. As she struggled to put the feuding voices back in whatever boxes they’d sprung from, Snarky got in a dig. And anyway, it’s not two boys, it’s three.
Before she could even think about the Jimmy Proud factor, the sound of laughter from the audience helped her to latch the lids on both boxes, silencing her inner critics.
The audience noise meant the door leading to the stage was open. All the adult helpers adopted the finger-on-the-lips and hand-in-the-air pose in an attempt to force the excitable drama brats to be quiet. Good luck with that one. The box muffled Snarky’s voice to a whisper.
Miss Maines rushed about with a clipboard trying to get everyone for the next scene lined up, ready to go on. In an effort to reduce her stress levels, she’d tried to rope the older kids into making up some of the extras, but Liv’s hands were shaking so much s
he was worse than useless. The makeup supervisor had kindly suggested she should help elsewhere.
Liv was in no fit state to help anyone, and the lack of interaction threatened to spring her two internal jokers – not a pleasant prospect. Still ages to go; her initial appearance came well into the first act. She scanned the room, feeling more and more nervous.
“Are you all right, Olivia? You look very pale.” Miss Maines frowned her concern.
“It’s the makeup. And a severe case of stage fright. I’ll be ok when I get on; I can’t stand the waiting.”
The drama teacher smiled kindly and patted her arm. “I know what you mean; I’m the same. Go and keep Ray company. He has to stay in the props room because it’s a pain to get his wheelchair down the backstage corridor.” She checked her list. “Your entrance is from the other side of the stage, so make sure you’re back in time.”
The props room was a little warmer than the main rehearsal space, but clutter filled the only chair. She cleared the haphazard jumble of dog-eared scripts, finding a place on the shelves to stack them. Snuggling into the chair, she lost herself in a copy of last year’s production, Grease.
“Tut, tut, Tallulah. You’re in the wrong camp; this is enemy territory.” Dandy Dan’s voice startled her as he glided in silently, fresh from the execution of Doodle, the unfortunate butterfingered member of his gang. He wheeled right up to her and changed back into Ray, full of concern. “Hey, you’re as white as a very white thing. Are you ok?”
She grinned at his Blackadder reference; quotes from the cult TV show were an in-joke. “I’m fine. Miss Maines said I should keep you company.”
“Nice thought. It gets lonely in here on my own. I’m not back on ’til the Chinese laundry scene. I just do a walk on.” He gestured at his chair, earning a wry smile. His next comment surprised her. “Wow, you shouldn’t do that, looking like you do.”
“What?” She frowned. “What did I do?”
“Smile. You’ll have us all forgetting our lines.” His eyes narrowed. “Stand up. Turn round.”
Another frown. In spite of her instincts, she obeyed the commanding tone in his voice, standing uncertainly. “What’s up? Is there something wrong with my dress?”
“Nothing, except it’s hanging off you.”
“It was the flapper style.”
“Not that much. Have you lost weight, Liv?”
“Maybe a bit.” She blushed and glanced down at her still-curvy body. Does it look naff?”
“You’re kidding.” A pause. “From where I’m sitting, you’ve always looked amazing. No wonder Terry can’t keep his hands off you.”
She blushed even deeper and he took her hand in his, playing with it for a moment as if trying to decide what to do next. His touch sent waves of heat charging up her arm and she suddenly found it difficult to breathe.
“Tell me straight, Liv. Do you have feelings for him?”
As she recognised Gaston’s line, a strange emotion filled her head, and she couldn’t speak or move for a second while she tried to think what to say. The lid on Snarky’s box rattled ominously.
Before the gremlin could jump out, Ray pulled her down to sit on his lap in his trademark move. “Does your silence mean no?”
She shook her head, overwhelmed by his nearness, aware only of the subtle smell and feel of him.
“No, you don’t have feelings, or no, you don’t mean no?”
“I should go, it must be time for ...” She tried to get up, but his strong arm imprisoned her.
“... your lipstick-smearing scene.” He turned her face toward his eyes, which searched hers with passionate intensity, as his voice became a whisper. “Here, let me show you how it should be done.”
Leaning closer, his lips met hers in a way she’d never been kissed before. Her whole body dissolved until she was nothing but a pair of lips, clinging onto his as though her life depended on it. Someone set off a box of fireworks inside her head and, when he finally let go, she felt as though she hadn’t got any bones in her body, let alone her legs.
“Dandy Dan, you’re on in one minute.” One of the newscasters popped his head in before rushing past to the balcony staircase.
“Oh-oh. Nearly caught us. What would that do for your reputation? Come on, girl. Up you get.”
He set off with a cheeky little grin, leaving her to try and collect the remains of her war-torn senses. Snarky and Wimpy were no help, they’d gone into hiding. A tiny, unnamed part of her brain registered she had to get ready for her cue, but she had no recollection of walking down the corridor or waiting in the wings as Terry sauntered on.
Then she became Tallulah, offering Bugsy a drink, telling Fizzy to “Cut the ivory and make with the shoe leather.” She asked Bugsy if he wanted to smear her lipstick, making sure she kissed him just as that insipid little sissy, Blowsy Brown, came in to sing her soppy song, then run out like a frightened rabbit.
Anyone who spoke to Liv during the interval came away impressed with the way she stayed in character. She reacted to everything around her as though she really was Tallulah: sex bomb with attitude.
When she took the spotlight for her showpiece, every eye in the room focused on her breath-taking performance. Even Jodie Foster’s Tallulah in the movie version of Bugsy Malone would have been hard pushed to equal the sheer wickedness in her sultry manipulation of every male in the house.
She sashayed off to a standing ovation, pausing at the door to blow a kiss which seemed to encompass all of them. Her final duty was to entice Bugsy to come and do one last job for Fat Sam before he sank completely under the onslaught of Dandy Dan’s relentless attack. Once Bugsy’s services were secured, Tallulah’s work was done, and she fell into a deep sleep.
~*~
“Liv, what’s wrong?” Jude shook her friend. “Come on, this is no time for a nap. You’ve got to get onstage for the finale.” Her voice rose as the sleeping girl showed no sign of rousing, turning into panic by the end.
Heart thumping, Jude ran into the main backstage room. “Somebody call an ambulance. Liv’s fainted and she won’t come round.” Jude felt like throwing up.
Miss Maines followed her to the props room. She picked up Liv’s limp wrist to feel for a pulse. Grabbing her phone, she dialled 999.
2 Limelight? No Thanks
Jude couldn’t believe this was really happening. After everything they’d joked about her hexing Liv to get ill so she could fulfil her understudy role … she shook her head. Here she stood, lining up next to Luke for the grand finale of the third performance of Bugsy Malone. In reality, not much different to her role as Velma, except Fat Sam was supposed to cuddle and kiss Tallulah. Which meant Luke would be kissing her instead of Liv. Oh boy. Was she ready for this? As they got caught up in the crazy exhilaration of the moment, she knew this was exactly as it should be: her in Luke’s arms and his kiss telling her what she meant to him.
She opened her eyes and his gaze steamrollered into her soul, taking no prisoners on its path of total possession. His voice dived under the general furore, its message intended for no one but her. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. It’s all my birthdays come at once.”
Even if she could have cobbled together enough words for a complete sentence, she couldn’t muster the necessary coordination of muscle movement and breath to give it voice. As Jude’s body lost its ability to function, she wondered if this constituted a swoon.
“No way. It’s Liv who does the passing out thing.” Luke’s roguish grin accompanied ironclad arms which donated their strength as he swung her up into his embrace and twirled her round, to the delight of the audience. It wasn’t in the script, but it all added to the euphoria.
Later on, as Jude lay in bed, several thoughts hit her. The main one being how she’d actually begun to get jealous of Liv in rehearsals over that kiss: the only time the two characters weren’t actually scrapping with each other. Ok, so it was about as far away from a romantic setting as you could possibly imagine: They stood
in front of an audience of relatives, surrounded by schoolmates. The entire cast were covered in crazy foam and goodness knows what else Miss Maines’ props team had devised for the biggest custard pie fight in stage history.
All those mitigating circumstances aside, no way did she want to see Luke wrapped around any other female – even one of her best friends. Or should that be especially? She explored deep to see if Liv had ever given her cause to be jealous. A tiny niggle suggested that maybe, if Liv wasn’t her best friend, she could see herself hating the sexy siren: No one had a right to be so Big-Bang brainy, laugh-out-loud witty and superstar talented. Capturing the entire male audience in the palm-of-her-hand talented.
With a sigh, Jude tried to convince herself it didn’t matter about the whole smooching Liv thing. But even if it was playacting, Luke should be saving all his kisses for her. She had, after all, fancied him since year seven, and he’d recently admitted to feeling the same way about her for the last four years.
Jude grinned at the image of them snuggling together in the back of the car on the way home from the magical visit to Stratford. Not to mention when he’d shown off his culinary skills in an enchanting, unforgettable first date. Her lips tightened as she acknowledged she didn’t need Liv to tell her he was a keeper.
A guilty shudder reminded what a true friend Liv had been, supporting her through the awful period after Jude shoved Luke on the ice so hard he landed on his already injured hip. Not ideal for a jock. Nope, Liv definitely did not deserve her unreasonable jealousy, just sympathy; who wants to lay in a hospital bed in a coma?
Jude sat up in bed as another thought struck: If Liv was still in hospital, she couldn’t play Tallulah in tomorrow night’s performance. She swallowed to clear the panic seizing her throat at the enormous responsibility. The role of Liv’s understudy had never sat well, but now the actuality loomed large, she just couldn’t do it.
