Page 16 of Love Me Not

“Not true. We’ll run audio that sounds like a party to give the impression there are more people on stage.”

Maddy flipped the page. “This is so cool. I can see the costumes already.”

At least someone was on board.

Emma found an element to be happy about, too. “There’s a karaoke scene.” Looking up with wide blue eyes, she said, “I get to sing?”

I nodded. “In that one scene, yes.”

Our newest member, Kaitlyn, raised her hand. “Won’t there be auditions before the parts are given out?”

Emma huffed at the idea she wouldn’t be handed the lead role. Kaitlyn was right though. Especially if we were going to bring others in. The parts needed to be democratically distributed.

“If more than one person is interested in a role, then there will be auditions, yes.”

I could almost hear Emma grinding her teeth from six feet away. Best to learn now that there would always be competition coming up behind her, and I had a feeling Kaitlyn would be competition.

Though only a freshman, she’d submitted an impressive resume when joining the club. Dance lessons from the age of four. Countless talent shows and competitions. No serious acting yet, but the spark was there, as was the ambition, considering she was ready to challenge an experienced senior.

Something told me this child had no fear, which was exactly the attitude we needed.

“Oh, no,” Hannah said. “Does someone die?”

Pages flipped faster. “Where?” asked Emma.

“Look at page twelve, halfway down.”

“No one dies,” I assured them. “But she is seriously injured in a car accident. That’s where the big issues kick in. This play is going to test us, but I have faith that you guys can pull it off.”

“With a bunch of newbies?” Emma scoffed. “Why can’t we do My Fair Lady? We haven’t done that one yet.”

Maddy groaned. “No more corsets.”

“And Henry Higgins is a chauvinistic pig,” Jackson added.

Harsh, but he wasn’t wrong.

“This is the play we’re doing. No one here is required to participate, but I hope you will, since we’re going to need all the bodies we can get.” I scooted off the desk. “Which brings us to part two of this meeting. Sign time.” Dragging a stack of posterboard off the shelf in the corner, I piled them onto my desk. “We need to advertise.”

“The play?” Jackson asked. “Isn’t it too early for that?”

“Not the play. The club. We’re going to make signs to convince students to join.” To Gina, I said, “Did you bring the markers?”

Blinking, she looked confused. “I was supposed to bring markers?”

“Yes, I asked you to bring them in the email I sent.”

“You sent me an email?”

Clearly, Gina didn’t bring the markers. “Never mind. I’ll see if Mr. Sewell will let us borrow some.”

Lenny Sewell ran the art department and didn’t typically lend out supplies, but he still owed me a favor from last spring when I convinced Donna to give a photography presentation for one of his classes.

Leaving the group in Gina’s hands to brainstorm poster ideas, I headed toward Lenny’s room, which was at the far end of hall A, roughly a half mile away. A slight exaggeration, but very slight.

Bounding up the five stairs to the next level, I hung a right and smacked into Trey Collins’s chest with an oomph. Why did the universe keep putting this jock in my way?

“Are you okay?” he asked, which was becoming our regular greeting.