Make the Fireflies Dance, page 4
I reach my hand under my pillow and pull my phone out.
“Holy crap!” I yell and scramble to get out of bed. A muffled “Wha…?” sounds from the top bunk. It’s 10:36 a.m. I have twenty minutes to get ready and get to campus. This is so not how I wanted to start this day.
“Get up, get up, get up!” I yell to Shyla and Naoise. “We gotta go, like, now!”
I start to pull on the same dress from last night, thankful that it still looks fresh, not crumpled, but then I remember Marcus is helping with auditions today. What if he was the one in the theater? I can’t show up wearing my clothes from the party. I throw open my closet doors.
Hadley comes back into the room at the exact moment I find the perfect dress: long and flowy, it falls mid-calf and has tiny buttons all the way up the front and an oversized sunflower pattern. It was my mom’s when she was my age, and it’s one of my favorites. I pull a fitted short-sleeve crop top on, then slip the spaghetti-strap dress over it. I dig to the back of the closet and throw another dress to Hadley and shirts to Naoise and Shyla.
“We don’t have time for y’all to go home, so you can wear these. Get dressed. We gotta go.”
I twist my hair back into submission and poke some bobby pins in to hold it in place. It looks like a messier version of the updo I wore last night, and that works for me.
By the time I’ve got Mom’s old Doc Martens on and finish brushing my teeth, everyone is ready to go, if still a bit bleary-eyed. It’s ten minutes to eleven when we pile into Hadley’s car and head toward campus.
The next hour passes in a blur. We rush to set sign-up sheets and scene copies on tables outside the Black Box Studio in Kenan Hall. I’m setting up my camera in the corner to record the auditions when Hadley breezes in with coffees for us. Her boyfriend, Tanner, trails behind with a box of pastries, which I take gratefully before they head back to the hallway to wait for the actors. Hadley and Shyla, my producers, will make sure things run smoothly today. I couldn’t do this without them.
The first actors show up at 11:45 a.m., and nerves flutter in my stomach. I watch as the hallway fills with people. Giddy excitement bubbles up. I can’t believe this is finally happening.
I started writing this movie script at the beginning of last summer. When school started, I convinced Mr. Welles to let me use it as my senior thesis—he agreed to let me make it a solo project if my group wanted to film something else, but thankfully everyone was more than happy to work on a script I’d already written. This is the most ambitious project I’ve done by far.
Promptly at noon, Shyla leads the first hopeful actor in to start the auditions for the role of Sebastian. I recognize Shane McAdams immediately; we’ve been in classes together since sixth grade. He was in the drama club’s production of My Fair Lady last year and did a remarkable job playing Henry Higgins. He’d make a great Sebastian.
I check over Shane’s audition profile briefly before setting it aside and saying, “Go ahead whenever you’re ready, Shane.”
Naoise steps forward to stand in for the Adalyn role so Shane can have a scene partner. She’s been my audition stand-in since I cast my first short film after eighth grade. She’s incredible, but she always refuses to be on camera in an actual film.
It’s almost an hour before we get to the last of the Sebastian hopefuls, a guy who’s apparently in one of my dad’s classes at the University. I have pages full of notes on my yellow legal pad, and Naoise’s voice is hoarse from repeating her lines so often.
“Why don’t we take a quick break before moving on to casting Adalyn.” I stand and stretch, twisting my back until it makes a popping noise.
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much,” Naoise says, bouncing on her toes. “I have to pee so bad.”
“Neesh! We could’ve taken a break so you could go to the bathroom.”
She shrugs and rushes to the door, calling over her shoulder, “It’s all good. I just gotta go now!”
She pushes through the door, and I glance into the hallway. It’s jam-packed with people. Some stand in small clumps talking and laughing, but I notice several holding script pages and mumbling lines under their breath.
Before the door swings shut again, I catch a glimpse of Hadley, a look of panic on her face. We stare at each other for less than a second before the door clicks softly into place. It’s probably not a big deal—Hadley stresses easily. Still, I should check.
But before I make it to the door, it swings open, and Hadley slips through. She pushes the door shut behind her, leans against it, and sighs. “We have a problem,” she says.
“Okay,” I say, stretching the second syllable out way too long. “Like a real problem, or like a we-need-to-make-more-copies problem?”
“More like a we-don’t-have-a-male-lead problem.”
“Of course we don’t,” I say. “That’s why we’re doing this, Had. We just had auditions for that role. I’ll figure out who to cast later.” Maybe we should have gone straight home after the party last night instead of spending time at the diner. Hadley obviously needed the extra sleep.
“No, not that,” she groans. “I mean Marcus. He was supposed to come stand in for the Adalyn auditions, right?” I nod. “He’s not here. Shyla texted him, and I guess he’s sick? I don’t really know.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” I say, pulling my phone from my back pocket to text him. I see a message on the screen.
MARCUS: Hey, Q. I’m not gonna be able to make it today. Sick. I’m so sorry!
The message was sent right before we started auditions, and I clearly hadn’t felt my phone buzz. If I’d seen it then, I would’ve called one of the other guys. Donovan could’ve easily filled in. Even Kenyon if it came to that.
“What about Tanner?” I ask.
Hadley shakes her head. “He stopped by for a bit, but he had to go run some errands for his mom and won’t be back for at least an hour.”
I pull a deep, slow breath through my nose, trying to refocus. This isn’t the end of the world. It’s a setback for sure, but not one I need to let derail the day. “Okay,” I say. “I guess we’ll have Neesh read for Sebastian too. It’s not ideal, but it’s—”
The door flies open, interrupting my train of thought. This time, Shyla bursts in. “Ladies, I’ve solved all our problems. I present to you your lead actor.” She flourishes grandly toward the door. “At least for today.”
When nobody comes through, she reaches back into the hallway and grabs a forest green sleeve in her fist, tugging it and the guy wearing it into the room.
chapter Six
“EZRA?” I SAY. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
He looks uncomfortable, a blotchy blush rising on his neck and cheeks. “Well, I was trying to take a shortcut back to my car, but apparently I’m needed in some sort of life-and-death situation here. You can let go now,” he tells Shyla. She loosens her grip and steps back. Ezra’s sleeve stays crumpled where she had it in her fist.
“Oh my gosh I almost wet my pants.” Naoise runs into the room and slams the door behind her. “There are so many people here!” She stops short when she sees Ezra standing next to her sister. “Hey, what’s he doing here? I thought we were done with Sebastian auditions.”
“We are,” Shyla says. “He’s our stand-in for the Adalyn auditions.”
“What happened to Marcus?” Naoise asks as Ezra simultaneously says, “What? No, I’m not.”
I look around the room at my friends. Hadley stares at Ezra with a quizzical look on her face. She seems to have calmed. Naoise shrugs and crosses the room back to her seat behind the table. Shyla beams at me, and Ezra stands at her side, confused.
“Could you?” I ask.
“Could I what? I’m not even sure what’s going on here.” Ezra looks sideways at Shyla, one eyebrow cocked.
I take a quick moment to explain the situation, then say, “So?”
“So what?”
“Can you stand in for Marcus so the Adalyn hopefuls have someone to run the scene with?”
“I don’t—”
“I’ll buy you dinner when we’re done,” I blurt out. “Please help us out.”
Ezra sighs. “Fine. I’ll do it. But I expect a PT’s burger for this.”
Shyla hugs Ezra tight, surprising him, and I bring him a scene printout. “Thank you for this. Seriously—you’re saving us here.”
He shrugs and reads over his part. “It really was life and death then, huh?”
Hadley and Shyla head back to the hallway to organize the next auditions, and after I guide Ezra to where he needs to stand, I join Naoise behind the desk.
Now that we’re all set and waiting for the first actor to come in, what I just did starts to sink in. Dinner with Ezra? That’s going to be weird. I can’t imagine it being any other way. He wasn’t only my first pseudo-kiss—he was my first best friend, my other half for so long. We did everything together as kids. Even though we went to different elementary schools, we saw each other almost every day when we went to his grandma’s house in the afternoons until our parents got off work. He ate dinner at our house at least twice a week.
I mean, we slept in each other’s beds. All. The. Time.
But since high school started, it’s not been like that at all. I couldn’t handle being around him anymore. Not after my mom. He tried for a while, calling me after school, approaching me in the halls, but I became great at avoiding him. And after a while, he stopped trying. I had Hadley, Naoise, and Shyla. Now, in the last semester of senior year, it’s almost like we never knew each other at all.
So, yeah. Dinner is going to be awkward.
Our first Adalyn hopeful comes in and takes her place by Ezra. Naoise passes me the headshot and resume. Wow. This girl has some serious roles under her belt. Most people don’t have much experience when they audition for a student film; she’s the first one we’ve seen today who brought a resume on an actual honest-to-goodness headshot.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I say, setting the headshot on the table in front of me.
The girl reaches out and grabs Ezra’s hand. He jumps a bit but relaxes quickly. “Sebastian, wait!” she cries. “Please, let me explain.”
She’s good. After one line, I can see her as Adalyn. I sit up straighter, eager to watch the rest of the scene.
Ezra stands, frozen to the spot, his hand clenched in his scene partner’s as he stares at the sheet of paper in his hand. For a moment, I think he won’t say his lines, that she’ll have to act the scene alone, but then he looks up and it’s like his whole demeanor has changed.
“Explain what, Addie?” he spits out. “Explain why I’m the only one who’s ever actually been in this relationship? Or maybe you can, can”—his gaze drops to the script—“explain how you’re embarrassed to be with me? Or, and this is the explanation I’d really like…” He takes a deep breath, and I swear his eyes flick to mine for a second. “Why don’t you explain what twisted part of you got off on making me fall for you just so you could stomp on my heart?” He laughs, derisive, exactly how I’d imagine Sebastian in this part. “Because unless you’re going to explain all that, Adalyn, I don’t want to hear it.”
The girl playing Adalyn has tears running down her face. Her voice breaks on her next line. I sit back in my chair and stare at the two of them, completely transfixed as I watch the rest of the scene unfold.
Too soon, it’s over. I have goose bumps. Like, actual, literal goose bumps on my arms. I stare at them, slack-jawed. Beside me, Naoise does the same.
“Um,” the girl says, “was that okay?”
I shake myself from my trance and check her headshot to remind myself of her name. “Yeah, um, Kira. That was… great. We’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you so much,” she says and glides out of the room.
As soon as she’s gone, Naoise and I explode in excitement, talking over the top of each other. Finally, I hold up a hand to silence Naoise and turn to Ezra.
“What was that?” I ask.
He twists his hands in his pants pockets. “Sorry. I knew it wouldn’t be good. Does it work for auditions, at least?” The blush, which had managed to recede during the scene, is back full force now.
“Are you kidding?” I say. “That was…”
“Incredible,” Naoise finishes for me. “Better than anyone we saw during auditions.”
Ezra stares like he doesn’t believe us. His mouth opens twice, but he says nothing. Then the door opens, and the next Adalyn hopeful enters.
Twenty-two girls read for the role of Adalyn, and Ezra’s performance blows me away every single time. Even when he’s paired with actors who flub their lines and have the stage presence of a soggy turnip, he embodies the Sebastian character one hundred percent.
After the last audition is over, I thank him for taking time to do this, and then I say, “We still have some smaller roles to cast, so I can pick you up for PT’s when I’m done? Or just bring a burger to you?”
He shrugs. “I have some homework to finish anyway. I’ll hang out and wait for you if you don’t mind.”
“Oh,” I say, looking around the small room. “In here?”
He laughs, and it’s the same laugh he’s had his entire life. I wonder if I’m just as different and the same to him as he is to me. “Nah, I’ll find a spot outside. See ya in a bit.”
As soon as he’s gone, Naoise spins toward me. “Oh my god, Q, did you know he could act?”
I shake my head. “I had no idea. I mean, we used to make movies as kids and stuff, but… not like that.”
“He has to be your Sebastian!”
“He wasn’t even auditioning. I’m pretty sure he only did it because Shyla scared him.”
She grabs my legal pad from the table and fans through the pages before dropping it back down with a thud. “He was the best we saw.”
She’s not wrong. We had several promising auditions for Sebastian—at least three guys I would be happy to give the role to—but none of them held a candle to what we saw from Ezra. After seeing his performance, I’m struggling to remember what I saw in those other auditions.
“I think you should offer him the part,” she says. “He’s perfect.”
“I dunno,” I say. “What if he doesn’t want it?”
“Make him want it,” Naoise says. “You’re taking him to dinner tonight, right? Convince him.”
I sigh. “I suppose I can try.”
Hadley pokes her head in. “Y’all ready for the next wave?”
I nod, and we take our seats again.
An exhausting two hours later, we’ve seen every person who came to audition. While finishing up, Hadley and Shyla clean the hallway, and we stash the chairs and tables back where they belong and head toward the parking lot.
“So, do you know who got parts?” Hadley asks as we walk out of Kenan Hall.
“I’m not totally sure yet,” I say. “I have some ideas, but I need to go over my notes.”
Ezra meets up with us about halfway to Hadley’s Bronco. His overladen backpack is hiked up on one shoulder, and his hair sticks up on the side like he’s been lying down.
“Hey,” he says, looking awkwardly around at our group.
Oh, yeah, dinner. I totally forgot I’d promised to take him out. I look at him and then at the Bronco. “Hey. I, uh, don’t have my car?” Why did that come out like a question? “So maybe we can, um…”
“I can drive,” he says with a shrug. “I don’t mind at all.”
“Okay. I kinda have a lot of stuff though.”
“No worries,” he says. “The trunk is totally clear.”
I hug my friends goodbye, thanking them for their help and pointedly ignoring their questioning looks between me and Ezra. “I’ll text y’all later,” I whisper before turning around and following him to his car.
The ride to PT’s is maybe the most awkward seven minutes I’ve ever spent. Ezra and I both sit stiffly in our seats, neither of us sure what to say to the other. It’d be funny how little two people who used to share everything have to say to each other if it wasn’t so painfully uncomfortable.
At the restaurant, we place our orders, and I wave off his offer to pay. “My treat, remember? You really helped me out today.”
I slip the script I brought with me under my arm and press it to my side as I grab our drinks—sweat tea for me and lemonade for him—and then we make our way to the far end of the deck where there’s a lone empty table. I put a cup in front of each of the chairs and then drop the script onto the middle of the table. It’s dog-eared and obviously well-used. I’ve made directorial notes all over the pages until I had a clear visual of every beat, every scene, every movement the actors will make. This movie is as much a part of me as my skin and hair. My heart.
“It was actually pretty fun,” he says as he sits. His back is to the railing, and I look past him for a second, watching the cars drive by as I gather the courage to say my next line.
“I’m glad you had fun because I want to offer you the part of Sebastian.”
He stares at me for a moment that stretches into forever. “You’re joking.”
“Not at all,” I insist. “Look, Ezra, you were amazing in there. We had a lot of good auditions for Sebastian, and you blew them all away with your performance.”
He chuckles uncomfortably and takes a deep drink from his lemonade. “Okay, so I did decent with that one scene, but how do you know I won’t completely fall apart with a full movie?”
“I don’t know,” I say, “but I also don’t know that about any of the guys who auditioned today.”
The man at the window calls my name, and I head up to grab our burgers. When I return, it’s to find Ezra hunched over my beat-up copy of the script, brow furrowed as he reads.
I set his food to his right side before slipping back onto my chair with my own burger. He turns a page, eyes darting back and forth as he takes in the dialogue. I watch as he cocks his head to read a note I scribbled sideways in the margin.
When he turns another page, I can’t stand waiting anymore. “Well?”
