Shannen Crane Camp - [June 01]

by Finding June (epub)

  “What could you possibly be thinking?” he finally spat at me while he continued to pace. He kept his head down with his eyes trained intently on the ground in front of him, as though it took all of his concentration not to shoot me right then and there. I wondered for a moment if anyone else in the class thought it was a bit terrifying to see Joseph so worked up, even if it was fake. “Robbery is an art, not an excuse to throw a brick through a window." His voice was full of venom, as if I were a complete imbecile whose only goal was to drive him crazy.

  I stood up from the black wooden box on stage, making sure Joseph was pacing away from me so he couldn’t see me pull out my neon green water gun. I silently padded up behind him, so when he spun around he was met with a very angry June holding a gun hard against his chest. He stared at me intently, his eyes burning a hole through my head. Even when we had rehearsed, Joseph hadn’t looked that angry. It left me speechless for a moment.

  “What’s more artful than smashing a window, taking the cash, and still not getting caught?” I countered, pushing my water gun against his chest even harder so that he stumbled backward a few paces. This only intensified his look of utter disgust and hatred. I didn’t like this angry Joseph. Without warning, he grabbed me by the wrist of the hand that was holding the gun and pulled me in close to him. I didn’t have to fake my look of shock on this one, since this wasn’t how we had rehearsed the scene.

  “If you don’t point that thing somewhere else, I’ll have to reconsider my idea of working as a team,” he threatened in an icy tone before angrily releasing my wrist. I stood for a moment, staring at him in shock that was half acted and half real. When I finally came to my senses, I turned around on my heel and began to walk away from him, my shoes clicking loudly on the stage.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked in annoyance.

  “To find a new partner,” I yelled over my shoulder, keeping my gaze straight ahead as I walked across the stage.

  “Perfect. How about while you do that, I’ll stay here and count all that money you just made me?” he replied, walking over to our bag of money and kicking it with his foot.

  I stopped dead in my tracks. The effect was much better than I had hoped because just as he finished speaking and I stopped walking, my heels stopped clicking on the stage, casting the entire auditorium into a tense silence. I reveled in the unexpected dramatic effect for a moment before saying my next line.

  “I see your point,” I confessed, turning slowly to face him. I placed my gun on the ground to indicate a truce before I began walking slowly toward him, trying to muster any feminine wiles I possessed. I tilted my chin toward the ground so that I could look up at him from under my eyelashes and let a small sideways smile play on my lips.

  “Really, there’s no reason to fight, right?” I asked innocently, stopping in front of Joseph. Just as we had rehearsed, I rested my arm on his shoulder, letting my fingers play with his hair. I could see the color begin to rise in Joseph’s cheeks and tried to ignore the fact that our whole class was staring at us in silent suspense.

  “We’re on the same team, aren’t we?” I asked, now close enough that our noses were touching. As smoothly as I could (in heels) I used my foot to push our pillowcase full of money behind me, getting a few scattered laughs from the audience. This must have boosted Joseph’s confidence, because his entire look suddenly changed. Rather than looking timid and afraid, he suddenly looked purposeful and sure of himself.

  “Yes, we are,” he said, using his foot to move the bag of money so that it was between us, the top of the pillowcase sticking up high enough that we could grab it while standing. Joseph looked at me for a moment in the silent theatre, his dark eyes full of determination.

  And then he kissed me.

  It was difficult to get lost in the moment right away with so many people watching, and the handful of whistles from our classmates didn’t help at all. But as Joseph wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me hungrily, I couldn’t help but enjoy it, tangling my fingers in his hair.

  I wasn’t sure how long the kiss should last and it really didn’t seem like Joseph was going to end it anytime soon, I gave him a quick squeeze with my hand that was resting on his back to indicate that I’d be reaching for the bag of money. It was almost comical how obvious the difference between a real kiss and a staged one was. Practically the instant Joseph realized we still weren’t done with the skit, the kiss lost its passion. His lips were still pressed against mine, but it felt like kissing a wall. There was just nothing there.

  I kept my eyes closed as I reached blindly for the top of our bag of money, and I began silently cursing myself for not rehearsing this part with Joseph. We had always gotten so distracted by the kiss that we never actually went over this part—we just talked about how we would do it.

  When my hand finally made contact with the top of the pillowcase, I was glad to feel Joseph’s hand there as well. We opened our eyes, pulled apart, and looked down at the bag of money before bringing our gaze back up. I gave Joseph a little smile to show that I was on to him, and then the scene was over. We had managed to make it through without a single mishap or forgotten line.

  The reaction from the class was a combination of applause and catcalls. I rolled my eyes with a grin as we walked offstage to a chorus of whistles and jokes about our kiss. Joseph squeezed my hand as we made our way back to our seats and I held it tightly until we were safely seated and the next group had started their scene. I could feel the blood in my cheeks and was glad that the auditorium was dark so Joseph wouldn’t notice.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked, glad that we had decided beforehand that we weren’t going to let things be weird between us after the kiss.

  “It was perfect,” he whispered, turning and smiling warmly. I beckoned him closer with my finger so I could whisper in his ear.

  “I don’t think your girlfriend is too happy with you right now,” I joked. Joseph glanced to his side where Xani sat fuming. Her eyes were trained straight ahead and her arms were folded across her chest. I was pretty sure if I stumbled into her line of sight, she’d burn a hole through my head with her gaze. Joseph turned back to me with his eyebrows raised.

  “Don’t leave me alone with her after class,” he murmured. “I think she might kill me.”

  CHAPTER 10

  I made sure I did all of my homework for the weekend the second I got home from school. That way, Joseph could begin his long process of distracting me from my own thoughts for two days while I pondered how many ways I could ruin the show. He picked me up in the early evening and I got in the car with absolutely no idea of what we were doing.

  “Phase one complete,” he said slyly as he drove down East Los Angeles Avenue, which, despite the confusing name, is actually in Simi Valley.

  “Phase one of what, may I ask?” I replied, hoping I’d get some sort of information out of him.

  “June, you have to respect the articles of secret agent lingo. I can’t tell you or else the whole cover will be blown.”

  “That sounds promising,” I said sarcastically, looking out the window at the trees flying by. We drove for about ten minutes, with Joseph telling me all about the benefits of sucking up my cowardice and getting my wisdom teeth out. I, of course, nodded and smiled as I tuned him out, not wanting to hear anything about that horrible process.

  Joseph turned right onto Hidden Ranch Drive and into the parking lot for the Rancho Santa Susana Community Park. I turned to him with a grin.

  “I’m on to you,” I said, tapping my nose for effect. “But if I get a tan from being in this sun, it’ll be you who has to explain it to the makeup department on Monday. And trust me, she’s a scary one.”

  “Oh, don’t be dramatic. Just put some pineapple on your face. You’ll be grand,” he said with a fake Irish accent and a dismissive wave of his hand.

  We got out of the car and began walking through the grass, going nowhere in particular. I was glad I had changed
out of my heels after school, opting instead for beige ballet flats. Joseph was carrying a tan messenger bag, which he flatly refused to tell me the contents of. As we approached the swing set, Joseph stopped and looked over at me as if he were sizing me up.

  “June, it’s time for you to get used to making a fool out of yourself,” he said seriously, pulling a Polaroid camera out of his bag.

  I looked at him quizzically. “All right, first, where did you get that thing? And second, what are you talking about?”

  “This,” he said, patting his camera affectionately, “I got at a thrift store. She’s beautiful, right?”

  “Does it work?” I asked skeptically. The camera looked like it would turn into a pile of dust at any minute.

  “Of course she does,” he said, emphasizing that the camera’s feelings may have been hurt by the fact that I referred to it as an "it."

  “Well then, what are you and she going to do?” I asked, humoring him.

  “Who? Me and Lola?” he asked, giving me a wicked grin, which I rolled my eyes at. “We’re going to get you ready for Monday.”

  “Of course. What else would my crazy best friend and his sidekick Lola be doing on a Friday after school?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Make fun all you want June—“

  “Okay.”

  “—But this is going to make Monday much easier for you. What is acting, if not an excuse for people with a camera to make other people in front of the camera act like fools?”

  “That’s about what it is,” I agreed.

  “So go over to those monkey bars,” he instructed. I looked around the small playground, taking in my surroundings to see just how embarrassing this was going to be.

  “There are kids on the swings,” I stated with so much obviousness that it caused Joseph to shake his head.

  “And some on the slide,” he pointed out as well, making me feel a little foolish.

  “And parents watching those kids,” I added helpfully.

  “All the more reason to do this. When you start filming, you’re going to be sitting in a completely silent studio with dozens of people staring at you while you scream at a tennis ball on a stick as if it were a huge monster.”

  “Well, I doubt there’ll be any monsters on the show,” I said.

  “You get my point,” he replied. “Acting is embarrassing. It's even more embarrassing when the stakes are as high as this show. So, why don’t we just get you used to doing embarrassing things now, so that when Monday rolls around, it won’t be such a shocker?”

  I looked at him for a moment and then looked back around at all of the parents and children in the park. Sighing deeply, I nodded, knowing that as much as I didn’t want to do this, it would be good for me. I was never very good with the embarrassing part of acting.

  “What should I do, Coach?” I asked. Joseph gave me an impish grin, obviously happy I was going along with this.

  “Well, I’m trying to think of what would be the most embarrassing thing for you to do.”

  “Which I will obviously lend you no assistance with,” I stated playfully.

  “Fair enough,” he answered deviously. “Why don’t you climb on top of the monkey bars . . . so that you’re sitting on top of them rather than hanging off,” he instructed.

  I walked over to the monkey bars and regarded them dubiously before doing as I was told. I must say—if you were ever considering buying monkey bar chairs for your living room, you should reconsider. Sitting there was incredibly uncomfortable.

  “Okay, now for the fun,” he said, walking underneath the bars. “I want you to crawl across them, but look down through the bars at me so I can snap pictures. Oh, and I’ll tell you what emotion I want on your face every few seconds.”

  “How do you even think of this stuff?” I asked, very painfully getting on all fours on top of the monkey bars. The metal dug into my knees with ruthless vigor.

  “Crawl,” was his only response. I began to carefully pick my way across the bars, trying desperately not to fall and feeling completely ridiculous as one of the kids pointed me out to their mom. “Okay, now look down at me and give me anger,” he said, sounding very much like a parody of a high-fashion photographer.

  “That won’t be too hard,” I countered, trying to look angry while my knees were screaming out in pain.

  “You just look uncomfortable,” he said, disappointment filling his voice. “Look angry, June!”

  I knitted my eyebrows together, formed my mouth into a thin line and looked down at him. I didn't have to work too hard to "pretend" I was unhappy.

  “Much better. Now be really happy—like those models advertising nail polish or whatever they’re supposed to be promoting.”

  “I really hate you right now,” I said with a laugh.

  “As long as you look really happy while you do it,” he said in a singsong voice.

  “How’s this?” I made my eyes big and round while putting on a bright smile and repeating, “I really hate you right now,” through gritted teeth.

  “Perfect!” he exclaimed. By now, most of the kids in the park had stopped swinging and were watching our antics, hiding little giggles behind their hands. Joseph seemed like he didn’t even notice them and continued to snap away with his camera, catching each picture as it came out.

  “Now growl,” he said with a snort, trying to keep himself from laughing.

  “Fat chance,” I said simply, twirling back around so that I could jump down. I landed in the sand with a soft thud and punched Joseph playfully on the shoulder. “You’re the devil,” I said as we began to walk away.

  “We’ll be here all week,” Joseph said jokingly to the now-disappointed children who were watching us go.

  “Are we done making me look like a fool yet?” I asked Joseph over my shoulder. He snapped a quick photo of me as I did this. “Apparently not.”

  “That was the last one,” he promised, catching up to me so that we were now walking toward his green Beetle. He waved the picture around in the air, trying to make it develop faster. “Are you hungry?” he asked, keeping his eyes trained on the ground.

  “Starving,” I admitted, realizing I hadn’t eaten after school. I was too anxious for my "de-stressing session" . . . which mostly had turned into a "stressing session."

  “I brought a blanket and some sandwiches . . . you know . . . just in case you were hungry . . . at all,” he stammered. I couldn’t understand why he suddenly seemed so nervous, but I had to admit, nervous Joseph was adorable to watch.

  “That sounds wonderful,” I said warmly. I set up the blue and brown quilt under some large trees and Joseph brought a cooler over to our picnic spot.

  “A basket would have been much better,” he said regretfully, “but a cooler is more practical.”

  “The cooler works just fine,” I reassured him. “So, what’s on the menu?”

  “Well, as you know, I am a gourmet chef,” he said, shaking his head "no" even as he spoke so confidently. “So I made us peanut butter and banana sandwiches, some barbeque chips, and orange soda.”

  “You made us orange soda?” I asked skeptically.

  “From scratch,” he answered as he popped open the tab of a very obviously store-bought soda.

  “Well, you certainly know how to woo a girl,” I said with a giggle. He handed me the can of orange soda before opening his own and bringing it up in a toasting gesture.

  “To looking stupid in front of large groups of people,” he said, smiling.

  “I will definitely toast to that,” I answered, raising my can so that it hit against his.

  The sun was beginning to set and a comfortable orange glow enshrouded the park as we ate. It warmed my skin in the chill October air, and I closed my eyes against the sun for a moment, taking in the smell of the park and the fact that Joseph was with me.

  “This is perfect,” I said, finishing off my sandwich and laying down on the blanket. A soft breeze blew my stray curls across my face, tickling m
y nose. Joseph lay down next to me and looked up at the hot pink clouds scuttling across the darkening sky.

  “I agree,” he said quietly. He moved his arm behind my neck so that I could rest my head on his shoulder. He settled his cheek against the top of my head and I smiled.

  “I’m glad I have you,” I admitted, breathing in the combination of Joseph’s scent and the freshly cut grass surrounding us. “It’s going to make the craziness of filming so much more bearable.”

  “As long as you don’t completely forget about me,” he joked. “I mean, you'll be surrounded by famous people all day. Do you really think you’ll be able to reduce yourself to hanging out with non-famous me?”

  “As if you even need to worry,” I laughed.

  “I know I don’t really need to worry too much about you, but make sure you don’t let anyone on set make you think you’ve got to be bad to be cool,” he said out of nowhere. “Your innocence is a huge part of your charm. You don’t need to change anything to fit in.”

  “Joseph, are you talking about Lukas Leighton?" I said accusingly. He shrugged but didn’t answer my question, which actually did answer my question. “I don’t think you need to worry. He wouldn’t be interested in me anyway. Especially when he can have any beautiful actress he wants.”

  “June, you know you’re ten times prettier than any of them,” Joseph said matter-of-factly, making me blush. I was immensely glad I was lying on his shoulder so he couldn’t see it.

  “I don’t know about that, but thank you,” I answered modestly. Joseph gave me a tight one-armed squeeze and I nestled my head against his chest, still staring up at the now-purple sky. I could hear his heart beat speed up a bit but pretended not to notice.

  “We should probably get going,” Joseph said a bit regretfully.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. It’s getting cold,” I agreed. As we stood up, Joseph took off his grey cardigan and handed it to me. I accepted it gratefully and helped him fold the large quilt.

  “Thank you for today,” I said sincerely as we walked back to his car in the fading twilight.