Broadway Lights

by Jen Calonita

  We pull up to Tortilla Flats on Washington Street and I hop out. Liz is already sitting outside at one of the Mexican joint's rickety sidewalk tables. I sort of wish we were sitting inside, but I know it's too nice a day to do that. Besides, last time we were here this loud group of women sat for hours at a table and we could barely hear ourselves think. The inside of Tortilla Flats is so much fun to look at. It's tiny, cramped, and sort of dingy, but it has the coolest decor. Every inch of the walls and ceiling is covered with Ernest Borgnine memorabilia, eccentric framed photos, twinkling lights hanging from the ceiling, and streamers. Liz sees me and waves, but her face looks too tired to actually smile. Her ensemble is the one making all of the statements today. She has on a bright green slip dress that is big and boxy and flows in the light breeze. I kiss her cheek, excuse myself to go to the bathroom (that car ride was too long!), change into my T-Bags dress, and then rejoin Liz.

  "Hey!" I make my way to our table. "Why the long face?"

  "I hate another one of my teachers." Liz grumpily munches on a tortilla chip. She dunks another into the salsa and it crumbles, which only seems to aggravate her more. "He called on me in class and I got the answer wrong and he asked me if I got it wrong on account of the fact I was too busy partying with celebrities to do my homework! I wasn't going to let it slide, of course, so I politely asked what he was referring to and he mentioned the photo of me out with you at the SNL after-party. As if that has anything to do with my class attendance! It was a Saturday night."

  "What is with people hating celebrities?" I hand her a menu. I already know what I'm getting. We've been here twice already and both times I got the queso dip to start and the cheese enchilada platter. "He's just jealous because he wasn't invited to the SNL after-party and you were."

  "I don't think so." She shakes her head, and her large hoop earrings whip around like they're going to fly off. "They hate Hollywood people."

  "Who does?"

  "Everyone." Liz's face crumbles, her peach-glossed mouth slipping into a frown. "The other people in the workshop--who make little comments about me being from Holly-WOOD land. And the teachers act as if I think I deserve more props because I'm from there and my dad is in the business. I just want a fair chance, you know?"

  I nod. I so know. It's exactly how I feel about trying Broadway. I pray the critics this Friday night judge me on my actual performance, not the number of articles I've headlined in Hollywood Nation. "How'd you do on your pigeon piece?"

  "I got a B," Liz says stiffly. Her face is flushed and I can't tell if she's mad or just hot. Her curly hair is down and frizzing all over the place. I'm trying to resist the urge to hand her a hair elastic.

  "That's good, no?" I try to sound upbeat. I already know the answer: It's not when you're Liz and you expect straight As. She just glares at me. "The next one will be an A. Did you find a subject yet?" She shakes her head. "Forget their feelings about L.A.! Prove them wrong about Hollywood land or whatever they call it. I can be your next subject if you want. You can follow me around the day of the opening. Believe me, I'll display a whole range of emotions that will knock their socks off."

  "That's not a bad idea," Liz admits, grinning for the first time today. "I'll show them what Hollywood is really like. It's harder than they think!"

  "Darn straight!" I laugh.

  "This workshop is tougher than I thought it would be." Liz sighs and plays with the half a dozen gold bangles on her wrist. "Maybe I'm wrong about NYU. What if I can't cut it?" Liz asks seriously. "There are some great writing programs and directing workshops on the West Coast too, you know. Maybe I should look at some colleges near home."

  "Did your brain just fry from the hot salsa?" I sound startled, I know it. "You've wanted to come east forever!"

  "Now that I'm east, I'm thinking I'm more of a West Coast girl," Liz says longingly. "Do you think that's bad?"

  "I'm definitely a West Coast girl," I realize. I love it here, but it's exhausting! "But I haven't loved NYU forever either, the way you do. Hey, at least you're trying it now rather than calling your dad freshman year and begging him to let you come home."

  Liz grabs another tortilla chip. "Good point."

  We wind up staying at Tortilla Flats for almost two hours and then head over to the Tory Burch boutique to do some shopping. We both pick up the same playful blue-and-white floral pleated skirt. Liz gets a pair of funky three-inch-high beige sandals, and I pick up a green and white striped harbor shirt that I'll wear to one of the dozen Hampton events Mom keeps hounding me about. I curb my shopping there. I finally paid off my credit card bill from my shopping disasters last spring with Lauren and Ava.

  "Dessert?" Liz hoists her shopping bag over her bare shoulder. "We worked up a sweat trying on all that stuff."

  "I guess if we made the long walk to Magnolia Bakery and then back to the apartment, we would burn some calories," I put in quickly. "Let's do it."

  "I spoke to Josh before you got to lunch," Liz tells me as we walk. "He says he spoke to Austin this morning."

  "At least someone did," I let slip. Liz gives me a surprised look. "Sorry. I'm just frustrated. Our schedules are so opposite that we barely have time to talk, and then sometimes when we do talk we're griping about not talking enough."

  "You're seeing him this weekend and that will make up for all the bad phone calls." Liz puts her arm around me, but it's hard to walk this way.

  "I guess." I shrug. "I want to talk to him the way we've always talked, you know? I want him to know about Riley and what it's like being in this huge, cavernous theater and having to learn how to project my voice and wear a mic the whole time. But we barely have time to talk as it is and when we do, he doesn't ask about the show."

  "So bring it up to him," Liz suggests.

  "He should bring it up," I say stubbornly and feel myself start to speed up. Liz's arm slips off my shoulder. That's another thing I've noticed about living in New York. I sort of speed walk everywhere. You can't help yourself. Everyone tends to move fast. At least I've started wearing the right shoes for all this walking. I have a new pair of Havaiana flip-flops that I leave in my bag and take everywhere. "Shouldn't he? I mean, Dylan asks me how I'm feeling all the time."

  "Kates," Liz warns. "Watch yourself there."

  I blush. "There's nothing to worry about. I love Austin. I just miss him a lot."

  "You guys will be okay." Liz sounds so sure of herself. I wish I was. "When does he fly in? Friday?"

  I nod. "His mom and Hayley are meeting him here. Mom suggested they stay at the Soho Grand, which I'm not sure is the Meyers' style, but at least it's really nice. Sky promised to look after them since I'll be so busy on Friday." Liz raises her eyebrows, but I let it go. "They don't leave till Monday afternoon, so during the day I'll have loads of time to show them around." I pause. "Except for Saturday when I have a matinee. And the night performances, but other than that."

  "Other than that, you're totally free." Liz grins. "This is going to be some schedule, but hey, at least you have your days free. We can take more dance classes."

  "Absolutely." I pull my hair down and then put it back up again in a normal pony. The side one was too annoying. "That's about the only thing that works with this schedule. That and meetings with Seth and Laney about my next big move, which between us, I have to say, I want to be something on TV."

  "Really, Kates?" Liz sounds excited. " That would be awesome."

  "Seriously? You don't think I'm crazy after complaining all those times about my schedule and workload?"

  She shakes her head. "You were glowing Saturday night. TV is your thing, Kates! Look how much fun Matty is having." Liz lowers her eyes. "Don't get mad, but sometimes when he's talking, you look a little jealous."

  "I am!" I say ruefully. "That's why it felt so good to do SNL. Being back with Sky and trading lines like that, acting so funny, it was fun! I need a new character to focus on. Someone a little lighter than Sam."

  "She was a bit melodramatic," Liz ag
rees, and I pinch her. "Well, she was!"

  Ten minutes later, we're standing in front of the miniscule Magnolia Bakery. I stay outside and try Austin on his cell while Liz gets two iced coffees and two cupcakes to go. It's not like I need an excuse to call him, but I'm feeling a little guilty about complaining about him to Liz and besides, I forgot to ask him where it was his mom wanted to have brunch on Sunday. I look at my watch. It's an hour earlier in Texas, so Austin should be on his lunch break. The phone rings and rings.

  "Hello?" A girl answers, shouting over thumping music. "Hello?"

  "Sorry, I must have the wrong number," I tell her apologetically, and prepare to hang up.

  "Wait. Are you looking for Austin Meyers or Rob Murray? If so, you're in the right place."

  "Oh." I hesitate. Who is this girl answering their phone? "I'm looking for Austin."

  "A! Phone for you!" she yells.

  A? She's calling my Austin, A?

  "He's down the hall," another voice yells back.

  "He's not here right now," the girl says. "Call back in five." She's giggling. "Carl, stop! I'm on the phone! I said, 'I'm on the phone!' " She laughs harder. "Sorry. He's tickling me. These L.A. boys are too much."

  "Can I leave a message?" I snap without realizing it. "Tell Austin his girlfriend called."

  Fine, it's childish, but I'm playing the girlfriend card. I'm staking my claim.

  "I didn't know A had a girlfriend," the girl says, causing me to get even madder.

  "It's Kaitlin," I tell her, trying to stay calm. "Can you just tell him I called?"

  "No problem, Katrine," she says, and then she hangs up before I get the chance to correct her.

  Tuesday, June 23

  NOTE TO SELF:

  The View: Thurs. @ 11. B there @ 9:45 AM

  Dinner w/ parents, Matty @ the Met 4 Mom: Thurs. 6:30 PM

  Friday: opening night! B there @ 5 PM.

  Austin & family get in @ 2PM. Have Rodney pick them up @ JFK.

  Find out who that girl was who answered "A's" phone!

  MEETING OF THE MINDS

  Scene 10

  After Andie and Leo are caught kissing, Jenny is furious. She chases Andie back to the cafeteria to confront her. Jenny's friends and Andie's friends quickly take sides, and soon a riot starts. The class bell rings, but nobody moves. Andie has jumped up on a table to avoid the cheerleaders.

  ANDIE:

  (screaming at the top of her lungs) STOP!

  (The crowd grows quiet and looks up at her. Andie is a bit unsettled.)

  ANDIE:

  Good. Um, thanks for listening.

  JORDAN:

  Wow, Andie, who knew one day the queen bees would actually listen to what you had to say?

  JENNY:

  We're not listening! We're waiting till she climbs down so we can grab her.

  (Chorus of "Yah!" The girls try to grab Andie's legs. Becca and Jordan step in to stop them, and hair pulling ensues.)

  ANDIE:

  Wait! Wait! Don't you think this is a bit crazy? What are we doing? This is the last day of school and even today we can't find a way to get along for five minutes?

  JENNY:

  Not when you're kissing other people's boyfriends!

  ANDIE:

  He kissed me. (Jenny moves to grab her again.) Okay, okay, not that I stopped him. But that's not the point. The point is we all used to be friends and now we can't even say hi in the halls. Remember first grade? Jenny, you used to come over to my house every Monday after school. And Jordan--you and Katie took gymnastics together. Sara, you can pretend you didn't, but you used to play soccer with Becca. What happened to us? Why did we get so caught up in who is popular, who is not, who lives on the west side of town and who lives east of the river, who drives a Beamer and who has a '90 Nissan Sentra?

  JORDAN:

  That would be me and I'm proud to say that car drives quite well. (pause) When I'm not having it serviced.

  ANDIE:

  We should be supporting each other, not trying to find ways to tear each other down. What's the point of doing that?

  JENNY:

  There is no point. It's just fun to point out the obvious, like Jordan's terrible roots.

  JORDAN:

  It costs money to have my roots look this bad! You should know; yours are worse.

  JENNY:

  This is your last chance, Andie. I want you to leave. Now. And don't even think of showing up in a cap and gown tomorrow or you really will have to pay for trying to humiliate me by kissing my boyfriend. It's your choice. What's it going to be?

  ANDIE:

  I'm staying and I'd like to see you try to stop me.

  TEN: Opening Night

  It's so quiet in the theater, you could hear a pin drop. I hear someone cough, but I tune out the sound. My eyes are on Riley--aka Jenny--and this is one of the biggest moments in the play. I'm trying not to think about that fact, though--or the fact that the audience is jammed with people I know tonight. My parents, Matty, Liz, Sky (who acted indignant when I asked if she wanted a ticket. "Of course I want a ticket!"), Nadine, Rodney, Laney, and Seth are seated in a box on the right-hand side of the theater. In the second row, center, are Austin, his mom, and his sister, Hayley. A few rows behind them are my friends Gina, Taylor, Miley, and Vanessa. Page Six said Lauren and Ava were going to crash the show, but Forest set up security to keep them out in case the rumors were true. Someone told me Kelly Ripa is here, but I haven't seen her. The Gossip Girl cast is supposedly here as well, but I'm trying not to think about that either. The most important thing I have to do right now is concentrate on the moment.

  I'm standing on top of a cafeteria table trying to avoid a mob of angry cheerleaders. My voice is strong and a little angry: "We should be supporting each other, not trying to find ways to tear each other down. What's the point of that?"

  Oh wow. I said that differently than I have in rehearsal. I usually say it softly, as if it's a delicate reminder of the truth. But tonight I'm fired up. I guess going live will do that to you. I was so nervous all day. I only had a banana for lunch. Nadine forced me to eat a power dinner with lots of protein (I had lemon chicken, which I love, and a big side of broccoli) and a huge bottle of water so I'd stay hydrated. Then I worried I drank too much water and I was going to have to pee during the first act. But I've been fine. So far. I was so anxious about tonight that I showed up at the theater two hours before the curtain went up. Liz and Nadine offered to hang backstage with me, but I told them I was too nervous for guests.

  I haven't even seen Austin yet--well, up close. (I can see his gorgeous face in the audience, though.) Rodney dropped his family off at the hotel around three thirty, and they had just enough time to grab a bite before they came to the theater. I told Rodney to bring Austin backstage during the brief intermission, but Austin called me before the curtain to wish me luck and tell me he would see me after the show. "I don't want to break your concentration," he insisted. "I want you at the top of your game, Burke." He was so sweet it almost made up for the fact that we hadn't talked in the three days before he arrived.

  I've been such a wreck about opening night. Dylan was sweet and took my mind off things by taking me to do karaoke somewhere in Koreatown after the show two nights ago. We had so much fun that I stayed out the second latest I ever have in New York so far (two-thirty AM. The SNL after-party stills holds the record at four AM.). Rodney was with me so Mom didn't freak out. After karaoke I was much calmer about tonight. I still had some minor meltdowns, but when I couldn't reach Austin, Dylan talked me off the ledge.

  "I can't do this," I flipped out on the phone this morning. "I don't know what I was thinking. Live audience? LIVE? I can't go on live! What if I blow a line? What if I forget where to walk? What if I'm just plain awful?"

  "You won't forget a line," Dylan's voice was calm. "You can sort it out, Kaitlin. You're brilliant as Andie. You're ready for Broadway."

  "You really think so?" Talking to Dylan this week has b
een like taking a huge swig of water after spin class. Or catching your breath after a long walk. I feel better instantly.

  "I know so," Dylan insisted. "I can't wait to say 'I told you so' after the curtain drops."

  So that's what I'm doing right now. Trying to do the best job I can so that Dylan can say "I told you so" later.

  "There is no point," Riley spits. She's wearing a cheer-leading uniform and she thrusts her pom-poms in my face. "It's just fun to point out the obvious, like Jordan's terrible roots." Someone else has a line and then Riley says: "This is your last chance, Andie. I want you to leave. Now. And don't even think of showing up in a cap and gown tomorrow or you really will have to pay for trying to humiliate me by kissing my boyfriend. It's your choice. What's it going to be?"

  My turn. "I'm staying," I shoot back, shuffling my feet on the plastic table. I'm wearing a casual pink tee and loose-fitting no-name jeans I normally wouldn't be caught dead in. "And I'd like to see you try to stop me."

  And scene! The curtain drops. End of act one.

  The applause is deafening, even from backstage. I'd give anything to peek through the curtain and see what people are doing. I can hear people whistling and clapping, and I can't help feeling pleased. They liked it! They liked the first act with me in it!

  When you're on a film set and you spend months making a movie, you never know how it will be edited or whether anyone will actually care to see it when you're done. It can be hard to find your motivation. But playing off the audience's reactions, like I've been doing tonight, is different from anything I've ever experienced. When they laugh, or they clap, or I catch a glimpse of someone's face and see their expression, it pushes me to want to emote more.

  I rush back to my dressing room for a quick touch-up, a costume change--a major bathroom break--and another huge gulp of water.

  "Kaitlin!" Forest swings into my dressing room and hugs me. Tonight he's in a suit and tie. (Usually he's in jeans and an untucked dress shirt.) "Excellent first half. Just as I expected. How do you feel?"

  "Unbelievable." The words spill out of my mouth and tumble over each other. "I've never felt like this when I've acted. Thank you, Forest." I'm getting choked up. "This has been..."