CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

searching, pt. 3

all i could think about as the unnamed boy stepped into the room with his permanently dramatic aura was that i was finally going to find out his name. "hey, i recognize you!" he said.

"yeah, we were the 'new kids' who stumbled across your hallway," i said, pointing to walker. "and don't worry, all four of us have kept it a secret."

"i'm glad you looked at the fliers," said walker.

"i hope that i'll be glad too," he said grimly. "i expect support for the neglected actors of our school."

"what's your name and who will you be trying out for," said maeve impatiently.

"the name's walker, walker holmes," he said. "i'll be trying out for the role of peter."

walker (scobell) smiled brightly. "that's my name too!"

maeve approached holmes with the script and he snatched it without looking at her, but shooting scobell a sly grin. "you're also named walker holmes? huh, what a small world we live in."

"well it's not holmes—"

"alright, i don't think i can wait any longer to watch the season finale," holmes suddenly cried, jumping into character like slipping into a costume.

not ready, walker stuttered a bit before getting a handle onto caleb. "oh yeah! doesn't it come out next week?"

"no, dude, it's tonight." holmes had a fine tone and expression, but there was something off about it. it was like he hadn't gotten rid of the voice from his last role. there was some sort of trans-atlantic accent that no modern day high schooler would say the word "dude" in.

"oh, uh. something kinda came up for tonight," said caleb, but i could hear walker in there holding in laughter.

"what? we've been planning to watch for like weeks," yelled out peter. yelling wasn't really what i was going for.

maeve stepped up behind me and took the pen set down next to the notepad. caleb and peter kept interacting, but i decided to watch as she scribbled down next to the "walker holmes" section that i wrote, "is stuck in theater mode."

i was about to disagree, thinking he was just interpreting the script incorrectly, when holmes belted out as if he was in a musical, "a party? that you're going to?" he even added some choreography into the mix, stepping toward walker rhythmically. walker stepped further back as he did so, threatened, and the room was so small that he was nearly cornered.

"okay, we're gonna stop you there," said jordyn.

"this isn't a musical," i said, completely baffled by the unprecedented breakout into song.

"i was told that it was!"

"what? by who?" maeve asked, so dumbfounded she had to smile.

"his name is michael," holmes whispered. "he told me outside, just now."

"well whoever michael is, he's either been fucked with or he's trying to fuck with you," said jordyn. the latter sounded like something michael, madeline's ex, would do.

"do you know michael? would he do that to you?" i investigated.

"michael walsh? he's been in the theater program with me since last year. i think he's a sophomore." holmes raised an eyebrow and scratched his chin. "i suppose he would do that."

there was no indication, no ounce of dramaturgy, no trans-atlantic accent slip in michael that i had ever sensed. after picking my jaw up off the floor, i was able to say to maeve, "is that the michael in our chemistry class?"

"yes. i would have never guessed, just by the way he reeks of axe body spray and all." she sighed. "well, walker, i think we've seen enough. and heard enough. the cast will be out on monday."

i could have sworn holmes hissed as he returned the script to maeve. and his grand finale was a flourish of his coat as he exited.

"man, i love that kid," said walker dreamily.

"i'm sorry, walker, but let's face it. he has no chance against connor briggs," i said.

"that's true. why even look for any more peters?"

not even a second after that was said, the door burst open, turning all heads in as little time as it took for the violent slam to reveal a certain curly haired boy from our chemistry class. "i'm michael walsh and i'll be auditioning for peter!"

i couldn't think of any good reason why madeline would cheat on michael. they seemed perfect for each other, both making unnecessarily jarring entrances and me want to rip my hair out every time they spoke.

"why is every guy auditioning for peter?" jordyn whispered to me as maeve sluggishly walked over to michael to give him the script.

"i guess the one-liner roles of 'shirtless boy' and 'drunk boy' aren't the most appealing. we're going to have to give them to unsuspecting extras."

as michael stepped into peter's shoes, the theatrical part of him began to seep out from the inside like reading from a script was the trigger to some involuntary response. but he kept it contained and only subtle enough that someone who didn't know his secret would think nothing of it. he was good. he didn't have that natural, "i could be watching two people having a normal conversation" type of acting style that walker and connor had, the type i was searching for, though.

seeing the two boys face to face was like having a dual view of the two sides of a mirror. they had almost identical hair, similar height and build, and indistinctive features. even i would think i'd be attracted to michael, but i wasn't.

michael spared the four of us more time in the cologne infested air and left after maeve said the usual. there was nothing really to discuss about him. i just wrote that he was decent and would be an understudy as theater kids like to call it. our current choice was connor nonetheless.

it seemed that a third of the people in the hallway were theater kids, all of whom auditioned for either peter, emily, or, unfortunately, the shirtless boy. yes, one kid decided to get very into character. there was also a good bunch of people who just decided to leave. and the rest were on the same level as michael. it was all a blur, until there was a crystal clear outlier.

my brain was stuffed so heavily with the trash of the prior two hours that i was struggling to keep my head up. that was until it was jolted by a familiar dirty blonde entering the room. violet looked more exhausted than me. she had to have been waiting for eternity out in the hall, watching in yearning as everyone else passed by her and made their way home. she had probably set up camp and accepted her fate of being a permanent resident.

"i'm violet owsinski and i'll be trying out for emily," she said with the most artificial energy i'd ever endured. maeve did her routine and walker prepared to do the same scene for the millionth time. our eyes were crescents. the fluorescent lights were taunting us with their electricity.

"hey, emily! what are you doing here at almost four?"

and so the scene went. but this time, it went extraordinary. not just extraordinary -- immaculate, remarkable, flawless even. she met walker's fake preferences. madeline's performance was put to shame. i was gladly transported to the place i hated, in front of the school and in front of caleb and emily. she was emily. in the flesh.

"you're not gonna regret it," completed violet. she looked at me, like madeline did, except in requesting some sort of confirmation that she did good. i did not mock her in my head, i did not even consider it. i was agreeing with her, actually.



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thank you for reading chapter 25!