Page 104 of Secret Puck
As I work, she studies the script in front of her. I’ve heard her running lines with Dakota enough that I know she’s already got it memorized, but I decide it’s best not to mess with whatever process she has.
When she finally looks up, I’m ready to add another coat of mascara.
“Oh, wow, Ginny.”
“Is it too much?”
“It’s amazing.” She turns her face to look at each side more closely. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“I don’t know about that but thank you.” Mascara wand in hand, I tell her, “Look down.”
Instead of heading backto my dorm or going to class, I stay for the rehearsal. The play is a modern take onA Christmas Story, and Reagan plays the Ghost of Christmas Present. The green gown she wears could have been made specifically with her in mind. She looks exquisite. That’s my first thought, but the longer she’s on the stage, the more I fall into her character.
I smile as the clock strikes midnight, she bows her head and slowly walks backward until she disappears behind the curtain.
After the rehearsal, she comes down off the front of the stage and finds me in the third row.
“What did you think?”
I pull her into a tight hug. “You are so talented, Reagan.” I let her go to look her in the eye, so she knows how much I mean it, and then I hug her again.
A woman who’d been sitting in the row ahead of me turns and walks toward us. Her blonde hair is pulled up into a tight bun and she wears red-framed glasses that she takes off when she reaches us. She has an air of sophistication and also looks like she might cut a bitch if necessary. “Really well done, Reagan. You found the lighting up there really well.” She steps closer and inspects my friend’s face. “Your makeup…” She makes a little humming noise in her throat. “Who did you use?”
“Oh, uh, I did it. I’m sorry if it isn’t—”
“It looks amazing,” she assures me. She tips her head to Reagan. “It needs to be a little darker to read at the back of the house, but it suits you. Great job today. See you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Dr. Rossen.”
When she’s gone, Reagan grabs my hand and squeals. “You did it.”
“That woman is scary. Who is she?”
“She’s the director.”
“Well, she is not someone I want to cross.”
“She’s made more than one person cry since she took over last year. Come on, let me buy you coffee as a thank you.”
We stay on campus and go to University Hall. It’s busy with a late afternoon rush, but we order from the café and find a small table near the door.
“I’m so relieved that’s over.”
“Don’t you have two real shows this weekend?”
“Yes, but the rehearsal is the only time I really get nervous. It’s harder to be on when you’re staring out into an empty theater.”
“I so don’t get that.”
She smiles. “Thank you again. You might have been fleeing the Heath situation, but it benefited me greatly.”
“Anytime.” I take a sip of my coffee. “So, are we going to talk about that thing you said last night?”
She looks down to the table. “I was hoping we could pretend I never said a peep.”
“Like you’ve been trying to pretend you don’t have a thing for my brother all semester?”
“Longer than that,” she mumbles.
