Lynda punched his shoulder. “Thanks a lot! Now your father thinks I'm stupid as well as nosy.” She glared at him before marching into the building.
Greg followed. “No, he doesn't. I told Dad how smart you are. That's why he agreed to let me stay and study with you.”
Lynda's scowl softened.
Apparently encouraged, Greg continued, “We don't have to study. I can stay and watch the tryouts for an hour, or rehearsals, or we can just hang out together.” The tension in his face changed to bashful anticipation. “If you don't mind, that is.”
Lynda had to smile. “I'd like that. But if I'm in the show, I won't have much time. You could always hang out with Matt and tell your parents you're with me.”
Greg shook his head. “If I can't be with you, I might as well go home.” Before Lynda could respond, he pointed toward the teachers’ lounge. “I've got to see Mr. Pullman before first period. See you in biology.”
While he shuffled down the corridor, Lynda felt giggles rise like bubbles in her throat. Greg wanted to stay after school to be with her. She stood in the hallway, staring after him, until the first bell rang.
* * * *
MISS MENDELSON'S voice rasped over the students scattered across the auditorium. “Thank you for coming. First the good news—the University has agreed to let us use the Circle Theater for our Spring Musical.” She cut off the spontaneous applause with a wave of her hand. “I agree it will be nice to work in a real theater for a change, but the facility is smaller than we're used to. As a result, I chose a play with a smaller cast. We'll be doing You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown.”
The would-be actors all murmured in surprise.
“I saw it on TV a couple of years ago.” Lynda whispered to Greg. They'd met at the auditorium doors just after eighth period.
“And?”
“I liked it. It's a series of skits from the Peanuts comic strip, some with singing. Pretty good songs, too.” Spotting Matt sneaking in through a side door, Lynda waved before continuing, “But it has a really small cast. Unless the play is different from the TV version, a lot of people here are going to be disappointed.”
“Not you,” Greg said.
Lynda smiled. It was nice to know somebody had confidence in her.
“Hey, Lynda.” Richard Hammer slipped into the seat next to her.
“Hi, Richard. I thought your dad wasn't letting you do drama this year.”
Richard sat back in his seat, his hands locked behind his head, and grinned. “I got a ‘B’ in chemistry last semester. Long as I keep my grades up, I can do whatever I want.” He leaned forward. “Has Mendelson said what play we're doing?”
Lynda nodded and told him.
“What?” he said in a louder voice. “We're doing a kid's show?”
“It's not a kids’ show. I saw it a few years ago; it's pretty funny. There aren't many parts, though, and no romantic leads. I'm not sure how Miss Mendelson's going to cast it.”
Greg leaned toward Richard over Lynda's seat. “Are you going to audition for Charlie Brown? Or are you going to wait and see who she casts as Lucy first?”
Richard rested his elbow on Lynda's armrest and glowered at him. “I don't know if I'll bother trying out. How about you? You auditioning for the dog's part?”
Greg's eyes narrowed, and the hairs on the back of Lynda's neck began to rise as if she were in the middle of a thunderstorm. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but neither boy noticed. The silence between them grew denser, thickening the air until Lynda had trouble breathing. “Greg's just keeping me company,” she finally said. “He has to cut out pretty soon.”
With a dismissive shrug, Richard sat back. “Which part are you going for?” he asked Lynda. “Are there any stalwart best friends?”
“I don't know. I'm going to try out and see.”
Richard stood. “I'm not about to waste my time with kids’ stuff.”
Lynda's blue eyes flashed. “I'd rather waste my time than wimp out. Or whine about not getting the part I want.”
He opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it and dropped back into his seat.
Lynda and Richard ended up auditioning together. They read a sequence between Patty and Linus on a seesaw and another between Lucy and Schroeder.
Lynda found herself warming to Richard. He might be conceited, but he did know how to audition. He read his lines beautifully, and as she followed Richard's lead, Lynda began to feel as if she shared his talent. After a couple more scenes, they ran through the chorus to “Happiness,” one of the songs in the show.
Greg watched the auditions until four-fifty, then left. An hour later, Lynda and Richard stepped out of the auditorium, exhausted, but exhilarated.
“You were great, Lynda,” Richard said, beaming.
Lynda felt a tickle in her tummy. “Thanks. You were, too.”
He looked up at the darkening sky. “It's kind of late, can I give you ride home?”
The image of his sleek little BMW flashed through Lynda's mind, and she nodded. She'd always wanted to ride in a convertible. Richard offered her his arm, and they sang about happiness all the way to the parking lot.
* * * *
A DEEP VOICE greeted Lynda while she was running out of the house the following Monday. “Good morning.”
She closed the row house door and looked around. Greg stood on the sidewalk in front of her house. Trying not to smile, Lynda trotted down the steps. “What are you doing here?”
He grinned. “I thought I'd walk you to school.”
The snow had vanished from the streets and sidewalks. Rivulets of water snaked across the asphalt and into storm drains, and the breeze whipping through Lynda's loose hair was damp with melting snow. She hopped onto the side-walk and took a deep breath of the springlike freshness.
Greg took her backpack, and they started walking toward school.
Lynda liked how easily he carried her books as well as his own. She smiled again, then took a good look at him. “You're not wearing a coat. Greg, you're going to freeze!”
He shrugged, and Lynda tried not to be distracted by the way his shoulders moved under his plaid shirt. “It's not that cold,” he said. “See, you left without gloves.”
Lynda looked at her bare hands and shoved them deep into her parka's pockets. “That's because my little brother hid them. I'd be wearing them otherwise—my hands are freezing.”
“Allow me.” Greg reached into her pocket, and engulfed her hand in his.
His hand was so warm. Suddenly breathless, Lynda dropped her gaze. “Are you staying after school this after-noon?”
“Yeah, until five.
“Good, then you can come to the rehearsal with me. If I got a part, that is. I left early so I could check out the cast list before school.”
Entering the auditorium by the side door, they headed for the dressing room where Miss Mendelson posted the cast list. As they got closer, Lynda felt her mouth go dry. She let go of Greg's hand and rushed ahead. Finding the list taped to the scarred oak door, Lynda took a deep breath and read down the names.
Greg stepped up behind her. “What's it say?” He squinted, but Lynda knew that even with his glasses he couldn't read Miss Mendelson's handwriting.
“I'm Lucy,” she said in a dazed voice. “I got the lead.”
He broke into a dazzling smile. “I knew you could do it.”
“You did, didn't you? Greg, I really did it!” Lynda threw her arms around him, all her joy and excitement exploding into a hug.
Greg lifted Lynda off her feet and swung her around. She felt like dandelion fluff blowing in a whirlwind. Round and around they twirled, and just when she was sure they'd never stop, Greg set her back on her feet.
For a moment, the room continued to spin. Lynda might have fallen, but Greg held her until the dizziness passed. Even after the room found its balance, he held her. Then a loud voice startled them apart.
“Lynda!”
She turned to see Richard Hammer sa
untering up the corridor. “What?” she snapped, trying not to show how flustered she felt.
He stopped in front of her. “Congratulations, Lucy.” He spread his arms and grinned. “Say hello to your beloved Schroeder.”
* * * *
AFTER BIOLOGY, Lynda saw Ellen in the hallway. Ellen waved to her and called, “Did you check the cast list?”
Lynda smiled and nodded.
“And?”
“I got Lucy!”
“All right!” Ellen yelled, jumping up to give her friend a high-five.
“Matt's Charlie Brown, Keisha's Patty, and Miss Mendelson cast Perry Burton as Snoopy,” Lynda added while they walked to the lunchroom. “He's never done a show before, but he was dynamite at the audition.”
“Sorry I missed it.”
“It was great. I can't believe how well I did. Miss Mendelson had us up in groups. You know, like she usually does?” Lynda paused long enough to take a breath. “She had Richard and me playing against each other, and it really worked well. Richard says that's why we were cast, because we work so well together.”
Ellen's smile dimmed. “Which part did he get?”
“Schroeder.”
Lynda watched her friend's eyes frost over. “Don't do it, then. Don't take the part.”
Lynda could only stare. “What do you mean?” she finally asked. “It's a great show, and Lucy has the best lines, next to Snoopy maybe. Why shouldn't I take the part? Don't you think I'm good enough?”
Ellen pushed open the door to the cafeteria and walked in before answering. “It's not that. The problem's not you, it's Richard.”
“Richard? What does he have to do with anything?”
“You just said he's Schroeder. That's like the romantic lead for Lucy. Believe me.” Ellen dropped her voice to a whisper. “You don't want to play opposite Richard.”
Lynda found herself whispering back. “Why not?”
“Never mind why not, you just don't want to.”
“But you're not making any sense,” Lynda protested. “I know he can be a jerk, but it's not like I'm going to have to kiss him, or anything. The closest we're going to get to a love scene is me singing to him across a pretend piano. Schroeder doesn't even like Lucy.”
“Lynda!”
She turned and saw Greg waving from a table across the room. Forgetting the discussion for the moment, she headed toward him. Ellen followed.
The memory of their embrace burned in her mind and she couldn't quite meet his gaze. “How was study hall?”
“Beats cutting up frogs.” Greg stood, took her hand, and guided her to the chair next to his. “Ellen, don't you have someplace you need to go?”
Eyebrows raised, Ellen stared at him for a moment, then grinned and took the hint. “Catch you guys later.” She scanned the cafeteria. “Hey, Matt! Congratulations on your part.”
Greg waited until Ellen had run over to Matt's table, then pulled out Lynda's chair. After she was settled, he sat back down.
Lynda was struck again by Greg's size. He dwarfed the table. Sitting there unwrapping his sandwich, he looked like the fathers she'd seen squeezed around kindergarten activity centers during open house. She felt delicate, almost tiny sitting next to him. Lynda liked the feeling.
He took a bite of his sandwich. “What did Ellen think about your part?”
Putting down her yogurt, Lynda shook her head. “It's weird. Ellen seemed happy for me, then she said I shouldn't do it.”
“Do what?”
“Accept the part. She said I shouldn't play opposite Richard. I asked her why, but she wouldn't say.”
“Think she's jealous?”
Lynda laughed. “Of my playing opposite Richard? No way! She had the pleasure last year and hated it. No, she sounded like she was worried about me.”
Greg unwrapped a Twinkie and took half of it in one bite. Chewing, he muttered something to himself that sounded like, “Doesn't smell right.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I just didn't like the way he looked at you this morning, that's all.”
“Really?” Lynda asked, pleased. “You don't need to worry. Richard tends to look at me like you look at a window pane, right through.”
“Then he's blind as well as rude.”
Greg smiled and started on his second Twinkie. When Lynda stood to throw away her bag, Greg reached out and took her hand. “You know I'm grounded, but—” He swallowed and tried again. “Would you come to brunch with me and my folks at the Medici this Saturday?”
“I'd love to,” she said and basked in one of Greg's 100 watt smiles.
Halfway to pre-calc, Lynda remembered that she'd promised to help at the animal shelter Saturday morning. She'd traded shifts with another volunteer who was going out of town. Sighing, Lynda took her seat. She hated to disappoint Dr. Lopez, but no way was she missing that brunch.
* * * *
THE FRAGRANCE of melting chocolate teased Lynda's stomach, while she waited with Greg and his mother outside the restaurant. Mr. Ursek had left them to weave his way through the weekend crush to the hostess.
Mrs. Ursek turned to her and smiled. “I'm glad you could come with us this morning.”
Dressed in a suit that emphasized her excess pounds without taking advantage of her height, Mrs. Ursek looked nothing like Lynda's sleek and fashionable mother. With graying blond hair and a colorless complexion, Greg's mother blended into the background. Lynda wondered if a little make-up might bring out her faded eyes and non-existent cheekbones. But then she smiled, and Lynda realized make-up would be superfluous. Her face lit like a Chinese lantern.
Lynda smiled back. “Thank you. I'm glad to be here.”
The restaurant door swung open and Mr. Ursek stuck out his head. “Our table is ready.”
They sat at a large booth in the back. A sign reading “Reserved for parties of five or more” hung on the wall behind it. Lynda looked at Greg's dad and figured the hostess must have decided he counted for two.
Mr. Ursek smiled when a copper-haired waitress set a large platter of croissants and four plates in the center of the table. “Thank you, Sandy.”
Lynda stared at the food. When she came with her parents, they had to order before anything came.
The waitress winked at Lynda and handed her a menu. “I put in the Ursek's regular order as soon as I saw them, but I wasn't sure what you wanted. I don't suppose you have an appetite like these two?”
Even though Greg and his father had each taken one, there was still a mound of the chocolate-filled pastries left on the plate. Lynda handed the menu back to the server. “I'll take a single order of the Eggs Benedict and a cup of coffee, please.”
Sandy jotted a note on her pad and smiled. “Back in a sec.”
“Do you come here often?” Lynda asked, turning to Greg.
Greg answered around a mouthful of chocolate croissant. “Every Saturday.”
“Sandy is an excellent waitress and a remarkable woman,” Mr. Ursek said, wiping his mouth on his napkin before reaching for a second croissant. “She is a single mother and night student at Harold Washington University. She plans to graduate next fall. We were lucky enough to sit at her table the first time we came here and have requested her service ever since. Ah, what did I tell you? Here is our coffee.”
Sandy set four mugs down on the table, and filled them from the brimming pot in her hand. Another smile, and she was off to her other tables.
Lynda took a sip of the scalding liquid. The coffee was strong, rich and surprisingly good.
Greg's father seemed to read her mind. “They blend their own beans. Yet another reason we come here so often. Though you drink a lot of it, you Americans tend to make forgettable coffee.”
Lynda poured a generous dollop of cream into her cup and took a pastry off the dwindling pile. The buttery layers dissolved on her tongue, and warm chocolate burst into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Greg chuckled. Eyes flying open, Lynda turned
and saw him smiling with chocolate-covered lips “They're my favorite part of brunch,” he said.
“Mine, too.” Lynda took another bite while Greg grab-bed a third croissant. “It's nice eating with people who like food. Mom picks at hers so much, I feel like a pig when I ask for seconds.”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, Lynda wished them back. What if the Urseks misunderstood?
Mr. Ursek smiled, not at all offended. “I know what you mean. So many people refuse to enjoy themselves when the opportunity presents itself. My grandmother used to have a saying, ‘Half the joy is in watching others enjoy.’ It is true that people deny their loved ones pleasure when they deny it to themselves.”
Mrs. Ursek smiled at him. “Something you would never dream of doing.”
He reached out and patted her hand, and Lynda looked away, strangely embarrassed.
For a while, the only noise around the table was the ceramic click of coffee mugs against the table top and the muffled sounds of chewing. Though she kept her eyes focused on her plate, Lynda couldn't help noticing Greg glancing at her from time to time, couldn't help smiling when his arm brushed hers on the way to another helping.
After Sandy delivered the platter of Eggs Benedict, Lynda turned to Mr. Ursek. “How's your book coming? The part I read was fascinating.”
“Thank you, my dear,” he said, serving Lynda and then himself. “The book is progressing as well as can be expected.”
“How do you get your ideas? Most books about were ... things are violent horror stories. But what I read of yours seemed very different.”
Mr. Ursek beamed. “I am gratified that you noticed. Most stories concerning lycanthropes, or ‘werethings’ as you call them, use the creature as a symbol for the evil that lurks within us all. I prefer to base my story on even older legends, and make it a metaphor for liberation. Becoming an animal frees the hero from human limitations. My grandmother used to tell wonderful stories about the people and animals of the Carpathian Mountains. Some of my ideas are from her. If you like, I could tell you a few of her stories.”
He looked so eager, Lynda had no choice but to nod her head.
“We're in for it now,” Greg muttered under his breath.
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