5

Nikki

I didn't sleep. I was too busy reading and rereading Learning Lunacy. For a comedy, it was deep. The tale of an aspiring actress named Nicole Bronwyn and an unorthodox acting coach by the name of Louis Luna, whose slogan for acting was as follows:

Learn to take constructive criticism or just plain bad reviews like a man

Understand stage directions

Never acknowledge your mistakes on stage

Act, goddamn it!

Cry on cue

You have to make it or break it

Lunacy. I assumed the Mr. Y I met wrote it, but he didn't seem to be as unorthodox and wacky as Louis Luna. He was a formal gentleman…intimidating and regal. Luna was kooky like a cartoon character. Somehow I had a cup of caffeinated tea and made it to school with the same amount of energy that I have when I get a full night's sleep. Perhaps the excitement of doing the show motivated me to get to school.

I parked my car in the parking lot the students, teachers and visitors shared. It was a very small school, and most people took the subway. The moment I got out, Barry pulled up in the space next to mine. He saw me and hurriedly got out. "Oh, here's my wonderful assistant director! Got the script?"

"Sure do," I replied. I took it out of my bag and gave it to him. He examined it and said, "Beautiful. This was the only copy?"

"I guess. I read it last night. It's really funny, at least when I forget the guy I had a formal conversation yesterday wrote it. He's…not at all like the acting coach, like I expected him to be."

"Of course not. Someone that mysterious wouldn't be so outgoing. Glad you liked it. Auditions are Monday. A weekend would be enough time to prepare, agreed?"

"Sure," I said.

"Good, good. Go to class. I'll see you in the halls, then on Monday."

"All right," I replied.

"And Nikki, thanks for doing this for me. You're brave." He left.

Math. I loved how I can get math out of the way first thing in the morning. But I hate math. Luckily, I found a good seat in the back with my usually chill buddies, Nora and Lavon. Theater kids. "Hey guys," I said, sitting at the edge of the table next to Nora.

"Hello, Assistant Director Lasalle-Jones," Nora replied with a smile. She was desperate for a big part.

"Calm down, Nora," I scoffed. "You have to earn a big part. You have all weekend."

She pouted. "Oh, now I'm scared."

Lavon patted her back. "I'll help you practice if you help me. Nik, you want in? We can go to Joe's."

Joe's Diner was the best diner in our world of south Brooklyn. "Sure," I said. "I would even without Joe's. But now that you mention it…so totally in."

Alec, the teacher, wobbled in and grunted, "All right, settle down." We weren't being all that loud. It was sort of a joke, but sometimes I thought he meant it. He was a grumpy old soul, but not a bad guy. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd prefer to teach math. He was merciful. He put his messenger bag on the swivel chair on his desk and went to the chalkboard that was also his girlfriend and wrote a complicated Algebra 1 thing on it as a warm-up. "Warm-up. Five minutes. Those of you who paid attention yesterday should do it in two."

Of course I paid attention, but I struggled. Nora had to write tips on my arm with Sharpie. I did that for her in history class during tests and not once did we get in trouble, but I sometimes got a feeling that the teachers knew. They just didn't care. Ah, I loved school.

Immediately after school, I drove to Coney Island to return the script Barry made twice as many copies as recommended. I parked by the back door I entered the day before and it was unlocked again. The hall was crowded with half-naked performers, bustling. I remembered shows were on Fridays. I called over the crowd, "Madame Q? Madame Q?"

Madame Q pushed through the crowd and saw me. She gave me a dirty look. "What are you doing here? The audience entrance is all the way on the other side of the building, imbecile!"

"I'm here to return the script," I said nervously. "To Mr. Y."

"All right, dumbass, c'mon."

"Erm, he said I could give it to whoever—"

"Come on!"

She pushed through the crowd and I struggled to follow her to the quieter hall leading to Mister Y's office. She knocked on the door aggressively and called, "Hey, Mr. Y, that kid is back with a script she stole."

I crinkled my nose. "I swear he gave it to me."

She looked at me and snorted.

"Come in," he commanded. Madame Q left and I opened the door.