The Royal Treatment Read Online Free

workshop I’m teaching next week is all set up.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “And then I’ll be back in time to watch you try out.”
    “Right.” I turned and stared at the doors.
    “Desi!” she said. “Go in!”
    The lobby air-conditioning hit me with a blast. I folded my arms over my chest, perspiration forming despite the new chill. The sign on the theater door, district play tryouts, made me sweat even more. Man, I wished they’d kept the junior high theater program. Now, on top of attempting all those thees and thines , I had to try out with teens old enough to drive.
    Teens old enough to vote.
    Old enough to grow Shakespeare-worthy beards.
    A few frozen seconds later, I noticed Reed sitting at the table by the trophy case. His head was down, his pencil tapping to the music coming from his headphones. His black hair fell into his eyes, contrasting nicely with his tan skin. I dug a pen out of my backpack and signed the audition sheet in front of him. Had Kylee been there, the smile he flashed would have melted her into a pool of girliedom. Of course, I was immune to it. Pretty Boy in Idaho didn’t compare to Kind, Sweet Prince in Europe.
    “Glad you decided to come,” Reed said. Sorry. Pretty Boy in Idaho with a hot accent. “Where’s your flute?”
    “Um, I’m trying to get a part, not make the director scream in terror.”
    “Then don’t say um . It’s Mrs. Olman’s pet peeve.”
    “Um, thanks. I mean, oops, I already failed.” I read over the audition sheet. Introduction, stage movement, and choose one of the three provided monologues. Five minutes of talking, if that. Some of my princess substitute jobs lasted for days . I could manage five minutes.
    I looked up to see Reed watching me, so I searched my mind for something to say. “Are you an assistant? Why are you doing sign-ups?”
    “Because I’m a lowly freshman.”
    “If you’re lowly, then what are the eighth graders?”
    He laughed. “I’m not going to answer that. I can tell you what some seniors think about the junior high jumping into our play.”
    “Jumping in? Yeah, right. It wasn’t our choice. And you guys have the advantage.”
    “Oh, absolutely. There’re only a few seventh and eighth graders who showed up. I bet most got freaked by the whole high-school-Shakespeare thing. The chances of you actually making it are slim to none. Probably closer to none.”
    I scuffed my left foot across the tile floor. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
    “Oh, I didn’t mean…” Reed closed his eyes. “Sorry. Sometimes I don’t think before I talk. Even if it’s the truth.”
    “So the truth is I shouldn’t even bother to audition.”
    “No! It’s just, statistically , your chances might be lower. But if you’re a good actress, that’s not going to matter. And you don’t seem very nervous.” Reed fixed me with an intense stare. “Are you?”
    I couldn’t make eye contact when he looked at me like that, like he was trying to hypnotize me to tell the truth. Whew, no wonder Kylee fled from him in the band room.
    “Nervous? Me?” A good actress would have faked confidence right then. But I was too busy counting all the names on the sign-up sheet, each signature another chance I wouldn’t make it. Over fifty people auditioning for a play with maybe twenty parts. “No, I’m not nervous. I’m…I’m terrified.” I slumped my shoulders. “I’ve been reminding myself to breathe all day.”
    “Hey, no worries.” Reed’s expression softened. “Everyone is nervous. Some people are just better at covering it up.”
    “Like you?”
    “Oh yeah. I already threw up once.”
    “No way.”
    “Sure. But I brushed my teeth, so now I’m minty fresh.” Reed glanced at the clock and stood. “I think that’s probably it for sign-ups. I’m going in, if you want to come. It’s always nice to have an audition buddy.”
    Buddy. Oh no. Kylee. Two conversations with the kid, and I still hadn’t mentioned Kylee. “Yes! My friend