Gracefully grayson, p.6
Gracefully Grayson, page 6
“What page?” I ask.
Ms. Landen looks at Finn one more time. He nods at her, and she clears her voice. “Twenty-seven,” she says. “This is where Hades is trying to convince Persephone to be happy in the Underworld. We’re having people who try out for Persephone—” She stops for a second and clears her throat again. “We’re having you read this section because it’s a part where Persephone shows a lot of passion and emotion, and we want to see how you would manage this intensity.”
She opens her copy of the play. “I’m going to read for Hades. You may see us taking notes while you’re reading. This is nothing to be alarmed about. You can start at the top of twenty-seven whenever you feel ready. And, Grayson?” she says.
I nod and swallow hard.
“Good luck.”
I scan the words, and before I know what I’m doing, I start to read. Persephone paces around Hades’s throne. She’s peering out every window, one by one, and choking back tears. I envision myself in her shoes. It’s not that hard to do, and I can practically see the dark gardens of the Underworld in front of me.
“‘You must release me,’” I state firmly, finally turning to face Hades. I try to hide my emotion from him. Evil seeps from his menacing eyes, and I don’t want him to think he has won.
“‘My mother cannot exist without me,’” I read, but I know that what Persephone must really mean is I can’t exist without her, and I hear my voice catch as I think of Mom’s face in the picture on my nightstand.
“‘Of course she can,’” Ms. Landen reads. “‘And she will.’”
“‘No.’” My voice is steady now, but I can sense Persephone’s longing. “‘I need to leave.’”
“‘I will bring you everything you want,’” Ms. Landen states. “‘Within reason, of course,’” she adds.
I look into Hades’s cold eyes. “‘My mother will figure out a way to come for me. Zeus will help her. Or I’ll figure out a way myself.’”
Hades laughs a horrible laugh. I’m trying to scare him, but the truth is that his powers are much greater than mine.
“‘Please,’” I beg. “‘Just let me return home!’”
Hades grins, sensing his victory. And suddenly, I realize that I still have some control. I step forward, firmly.
“‘All right, then.’” I make my voice cold, to match his. “‘I will remain. But as long as I am here in this cold, dark, evil land, I will never smile. I will never eat. I will never do anything but try to get home.’”
Suddenly, Finn tells me I can stop. I look up from page twenty-eight of the script, and I feel almost surprised to be back in the burgundy room.
Finn and Ms. Landen stare at me and then, slowly, they look to one another, smiling. “Thank you, Grayson,” Finn finally says, turning back to me. “That was very, very well done.” In a daze, I hand him the script. He takes it, and for a minute, nobody says anything.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow morning in Humanities,” he finally adds, and I nod.
I walk through the passageway in the curtains into the cold air. My eyes sting in the light as I walk across the stage and down the wooden steps. I gulp air awkwardly. I notice the hard floor beneath me. I feel like it’s the first time my feet have touched the earth.
I GRAB MY STUFF off the seat where I left it. I don’t feel like myself as I put on my jacket and backpack and walk out the side doors of the school and into the darkness. My breath is a puff of fog in front of me in the frozen air.
Across the street, I turn around and look at Porter. Most of the lights are still on inside, and the whole school practically glows against the black sky. The door of the east gym opens. A group of girls walks out, talking and laughing, and I wonder what time football practice will be over. I watch three teachers come out the giant arched front doorway holding overflowing tote bags. They walk down the steep steps to the parking lot.
I’m suddenly exhausted, but I force myself to think about what happened on stage. I try to remember exactly how I felt before I asked Finn if I could try out for Persephone, but it’s a blur.
But then I think about reading Persephone’s lines with Ms. Landen. That’s not a blur. I can remember that; I remember how perfect it felt. I felt like I was Persephone, and I start to smile. The gym door opens again and a few more girls walk out, basketballs in hand. That was very, very well done, Finn had said, and it seemed like he meant it. And I felt that way, too. I felt like it was very, very well done.
There’s a huge pile of snow next to the sidewalk behind me, and I run up it and jump off the other side onto the snow-covered lawn. “Yes!” I call out, and two old ladies walking down the sidewalk next to the bus stop look my way. I run across the snow, my ankles burning with cold, just as the bus pulls up. I skip up the steps. The driver is watching me with a little smile on her face. I look at her name tag. “Hi, Dori,” I say. I wonder if she has kids.
She looks amused. “Good evening.” I smile and sit down in the empty seat behind her. I plop my backpack onto the seat next to me, and think of Amelia.
Suddenly, I can barely breathe. I just tried out to be a girl in front of the entire school. I imagine Amelia, Lila, Meagan, Hannah, and Hailey at the lunch table, huddled together, their heads touching. I can practically hear their voices and laughter floating up from the jumble of headbands and braids and long, just-brushed hair—He did what? What a freak. I take my backpack off the seat next to me, hold it on my lap, and rest my head on it as the bus pulls away.
At home, the apartment is empty. I bring my backpack to my room, drop it on the floor, and look at myself in the mirror. I wonder what Finn and Ms. Landen saw at tryouts. I felt like I was Persephone. Did they see me standing there in front of them? Or did they see her?
I try not to let it, but the image of the girls’ faces bursts into my mind again. Ryan and Sebastian join them, and Ryan’s gaze stabs at me. I rub my eyes with my fists, hard, to create bursting firecrackers to burn the picture away. I should just forget about it and type my Humanities paper, but I don’t feel like it, so I lie on my bed and try to think about the tryout and the feeling of being Persephone. I try to remember it exactly.
Eventually, I hear the front door open and close, and the sounds of Aunt Sally, Uncle Evan, Jack, and Brett in the other room. Jack pounds on my door and tells me it’s time for dinner.
At the dining room table, I sit down next to Brett and scoop some takeout lasagna onto my plate. I’m too wound up to eat, so I push my food around while Uncle Evan reaches for the pitcher of water in front of me. “It’s really too bad we couldn’t make that trip to Costa Rica work, isn’t it, boys?” He pours water into all of our glasses.
“Tell me about it,” Jack says. “Every single one of my friends is going somewhere awesome. Did you know the Aarons are going to South Africa?”
“Huh,” Uncle Evan answers, sitting back down and blowing on his lasagna. “Well, I’m sorry, guys. There was just no way. Not with the craziness that’s ensuing at the office.” He turns to Aunt Sally. “At least you’ll get some time off, huh, Sal? What are you going to do with yourself?”
“Now, there’s the question,” Aunt Sally says, chuckling. “I never know what to do with free time.”
“So, how was school?” Uncle Evan asks.
“Whatever,” Jack says. “It’s almost break, so there’s nothing much going on.” I’m sure this is Jack’s latest excuse for not doing his homework. For a second, I think back to his winning science fair project in fourth grade. The summer before school started, he set up all different kinds of birdhouses at Aunt Tessa and Uncle Hank’s lake house in Michigan to see which ones the birds preferred. I remember them hanging in the overgrown rose bushes, little house wrens flying in and out of the tiny doorways. I try to remember exactly when Jack stopped caring about everything, but I can’t pinpoint it.
“Brett? How was your day?” Uncle Evan probes.
“Good. It was good. Lucia spilled her water bottle on the computer table at After School Club and got in big trouble because you can’t bring water bottles to the computer table. And there was an assembly.”
“Is that right?” Uncle Evan asks him, and Aunt Sally smiles and leans over to cut up the green beans on his plate. “What kind of assembly?”
“I don’t know. Some people in weird costumes with instruments.”
“It was a string quartet from the Children’s Symphony Orchestra,” Jack says quickly. “They did a holiday concert, but just for the elementary school.”
Aunt Sally stops cutting Brett’s food and looks up. For a second, she and Uncle Evan stare at Jack. “What?” he finally asks. “I saw a flyer in the hall.”
Uncle Evan clears his throat. “Grayson?” he asks. “How about you? Anything interesting happen with you today?”
I hesitate and push my lasagna around my plate some more. I think of the soft curtains on stage and the warm, thick water-air. “I tried out for the spring play,” I say.
Uncle Evan, Aunt Sally, and Jack stop eating and stare at me. They look stunned. Brett looks around at everyone. “What?” he asks. “That’s cool, Grayson. We’re doing a play soon, too.” He looks around again. “What?”
A smile starts to creep across Jack’s face, and I look back down at my plate. “Doesn’t Mr. Finnegan direct the middle school play?” Jack asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “So what?”
He shakes his head. “That guy is so gay.” He’s grinning like an idiot, and I have the sudden urge to get up from my chair and kick him. But I never would, so I dig my nails into the black leather seat instead.
“Jack!” Aunt Sally and Uncle Evan yell at the same time.
“What is wrong with you?” Aunt Sally goes on.
“I heard Mr. Finnegan’s the best teacher in the whole school,” Brett says.
“He is,” I say, still staring at Jack. My ears feel like they’re on fire. “The play he’s directing? It’s amazing. He’s a genius.”
“Whatever,” Jack says, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sure it will be a snoozer.” He looks at Aunt Sally and Uncle Jack, than back at his plate. He puts his fork down. “What’s the big deal? All the school plays are.”
“My goodness, Jack. Let’s not forget that you were in almost every single play when you were in elementary school,” Aunt Sally says. “You loved Drama Club.” Jack rolls his eyes. Aunt Sally turns to me, smiling. “Grayson, I think it’s great that you tried out. Don’t you, Ev?”
“I do,” Uncle Evan says, sounding proud. “I definitely do. So, when do you find out if you made it?”
My heart skips a beat. “Everyone makes it,” I stammer quickly.
“I’m going to be the mayor in our play,” Brett says. “When do you know what part you have?”
I can’t talk about it anymore. “Monday after break,” I tell them, pushing my chair back. “I have a big paper to type. Can I go to my room?” I ask. I put my plate on the kitchen counter and leave them and their curious gazes behind me.
The next morning in Humanities, I’m restless. One part of me feels like doing the mile run in gym, and the other part of me wants to go to the nurse’s office and lie down on one of those little cots. I prop open my notebook in front of me and watch Finn at his desk at the front of the room. I scream silent messages to him: I need this role! Then my stomach drops. How could I be wishing for this? He looks up once and catches my eye. I feel my face flush and look quickly out the window. The old snow looks gray.
I watch Amelia out of the corner of my eye throughout the double period. She and Lila exchange looks and mouth words to each other. Amelia writes something in huge letters on a piece of notebook paper, rips it out, and holds it under her desk where Lila can read it from across the room. Lila starts laughing and buries her face in her hands. By the time the bell rings, Amelia’s paper is still only half a page long.
I lean down to pack my backpack. “So, where were you yesterday?” Amelia asks me. “Did you get picked up after school?”
“Oh, no,” I say, pretending nothing’s wrong. I take a deep breath and look her in the eyes. “I actually tried out for the spring play.”
Her face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah, Finn’s directing.”
“I think that’s great, Grayson!” she says. “I bet you’ll meet a ton of new friends!” She swings her backpack over her shoulder and gathers her long hair in her hands. I swear, she looks relieved. “Will I see you at lunch? Or are you going to the library?”
“Library,” I mumble as she walks to Lila’s desk. I can’t imagine ever sitting down with them at the lunch table again. When I pass Finn’s desk, I avoid his eyes and walk out the door alone.
I STAND, HUDDLED in the corner of the glass enclosure at the bus stop on Friday after school. Even though I can’t stop thinking about whether Finn is going to cast me as Persephone, I’m glad that for two weeks I won’t know. Everything feels hopeful and safe now, and I wish I could just stop time. I can’t stand the thought of a crowd of anxious faces waiting to see the cast list on Finn’s office door on Monday morning.
The wind is whipping like crazy. Amelia joins me at the bus stop. I don’t know what to say to her. I know I’ll never be able to tell her how I really feel about her and Lila’s matching skirts. What could I possibly say: I should have been the one wearing the same skirt as you? I take a deep breath. I’ll just be nice to her, I think. Nice, but not too nice.
She seems upset. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m so annoyed with Lila,” she spits. “She told Asher that I have a crush on him.”
“Oh. Do you?” I don’t mean to ask the question, but I do. I feel like I’m covered in a layer of ice that is starting to melt. I can practically feel it loosening around me.
“That’s so not the point. Since when are friends supposed to do things like that to each other? It’s so obnoxious.” She looks down the street for the bus.
“She probably just likes him, too,” I say, pulling my hat down farther over my ears.
She glances at me. “I don’t like him.”
“Okay.”
“I mean, I guess he’s kind of cute.”
I smile. I don’t want to, but I can’t help it. Amelia laughs a little as the bus pulls up. We get on together.
As we sit side by side, it starts to feel like fall again. I can almost hear dry leaves crunching underneath our feet on the sidewalks in Lake View. For a minute, I imagine the girls whispering at the lunch table again, but I force myself to stop. “Are you going away for break?” I ask.
“No, I was supposed to go to Florida with my dad and stepmom, but at the last minute they had to cancel. I guess she has this work thing.”
“Oh.” I wonder how stupid it would be to give her a second chance. “Do you have any other plans?”
“Not really,” she answers. “Everyone’s going somewhere.”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “We should go to Lake View.”
“Sure,” she responds quickly. “Or, actually, we could go to this new thrift shop that my mom and I found in Wicker Park. It’s kind of nicer, you know. I mean it’s not so grungy. It’s cool.”
“Okay, great!” I say.
“So, do you want to go tomorrow? I think we took the 23. I have to ask my mom. But I can find out the schedule and call you later, okay?”
“Great!” I say again. “That sounds good.”
The next morning I wake up to the sound of the wind whipping past my window. Outside, the ice on the lake is covered with fresh snow. A snowplow is making its way up the side street, but the sun is shining. It’s already almost nine o’clock, and the bus leaves at nine forty-five. I take a quick shower and walk through the sleepy house to the kitchen. Aunt Sally is sitting on the love seat in the family room. She’s wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt and reading something on her laptop. The muted TV is turned to CNN.
She pushes her reading glasses onto her head. “’Morning, Grayson,” she says. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” I say, glancing at the grandfather clock.
“You’re taking a nine forty-five bus?”
“Yup.”
“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to take a cab from Wicker Park afterward and meet us at the Planetarium? The timing would be perfect. Uncle Evan and I need a few more hours to organize the rest of your grandma’s paperwork down in the basement, so we’re not planning on getting there until eleven thirty or so.”
Hearing Aunt Sally mention Grandma Alice makes me feel like leaving. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just come back here when I’m done. I don’t know how long I’ll be, anyway.”
“Okay. Well, will you call my cell if you change your mind?”
I nod.
“You know, Grayson, Uncle Evan and I were talking last night after you went to bed,” she says. “We’re really glad you tried out for the play. Are you nervous?” She smiles gently.
Yes, I want to scream. I’m dying. I don’t know what I’m doing. “Yeah. I guess two weeks is a long time to wait.”
“It’s almost cruel for him to make you kids wait all break!” She smiles again, but something snaps in me.
“He’s not doing it to be cruel,” I say quickly. “I’m sure he just wants to make a careful decision. He knows what he’s doing, you know.” And as soon as I say it, I wonder if it’s true.
Aunt Sally looks a little hurt, and I look up at the clock again. I feel bad for her, but I don’t know what to say. “I have to go,” I tell her. “I have to meet Amelia.”
“Okay, have fun,” she says, watching me carefully. I walk into the kitchen and grab a granola bar and bottle of water from the pantry before I head out the door.
The sidewalks in Wicker Park are covered in dirty snow. We get off the bus at the corner, and I follow Amelia half a block down the street to the thrift shop. The displays in the windows are bright and trendy looking. We arrive just as a lady is unlocking the door from inside and turning the CLOSED sign to OPEN. She holds the door for us.
