Two Love

Chapter 32

Everyone was everywhere all at once. Actors rushing from one side of the gym to the other; actresses shrieking about a lost prop or some smudged lipstick. In the centre of this chaos was Marty Pocock.

"I'm sorry, Ella, but I can't remember where I put your hair ribbons," said Marty, trying to keep a note of panic out of his voice. While Ella ran off to search elsewhere, Marty picked up his sweaty script for the umpteenth time, begging his muddled mind to remember his lines.

This was only his second time playing a semi-major role in a play. Last year, he'd been Kenickie in his drama club's production of Grease. Tonight he would be Sammy in the school production of Blood Brothers. Last year, he'd acted so well that he'd been nominated for a prize.

This year, Marty had already misplaced some hair ribbons, tipped over someone's Coke bottle by accident and managed to muddle his lines in a run-through with Brendan, who was playing Older Mickey. As for the possibility of a prize? Marty laughed at the thought. His brain was like a mashed potato.

"Hey bro, are you gonna peek at the audience? It's packed out there: your family's probably here."

Marty managed a brazen grin. "Yeah, of course! I'll look out for your folks too."

Brendan walked towards the stage with Marty, a quizzical look on his freckled face. "You've never met my folks, mate."

"Yes, that's true. But I know how I'm gonna spot them – I'm gonna look for the cluster of freckled gingers."

At that moment, Marty moved the curtain the slightest bit with his hand. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the size of the crowd. Did this many people really care about a play performed by teenagers? Three hundred people?

Yet one group of people stood out to him straight away.

"There they are," said Marty, pointing at a group of red-headed people seated in the front row.

"Yep, that's them," sighed Brendan. "Why God had to give us all ginger hair, I have no idea. I hate it."

"... and there's my mum and my sister Riley. Second row."

Brendan's gaze followed his sort-of friend's finger, noting a middle-aged brunette woman and an 18-year-old-ish girl with long hair the same shade of golden blond as Marty's.

"Your sister's hot," whispered Brendan.

"Before you ask for her number, she's a lesbian. Her girlfriend Meredith couldn't make it tonight, unfortunately."

"I'd still like her number. I have a feeling we could be good friends. If I'm lucky, I could turn her bi."

Marty rolled his eyes. He'd lost count of the number of guys who seemed to think that they were so attractive that they could make a gay girl straight. "It doesn't work like that, bro."

Before Brendan could reply, Mrs Perkins was shouting to assemble all actors and actresses for a final chat before the play. Since Olivia was sadly ill, her mum had stepped in to supervise the drama club. As Marty and Brendan returned backstage – which was still a massive mess of props and make-up – they listened to Mrs Perkins' inspirational words of wisdom.

"You're going to be awesome!" she enthused. "Just remember: put on a big smile and enjoy yourself out there! Ooh, yay, it's going to be so much fun! My hubby's gonna love this!"

"Thanks for the advice," muttered Marty sardonically. What use was putting on a smile when he was playing a serious character? Now the first song was starting; he'd be on the stage in two minutes.

The thought made him feel sick.

"You okay?" said Brendan, brushing off dust from his holey jumper.

"Hmmph." Marty would've responded with something more than a camel sound, but he was trying to conquer his sick feeling. Maybe if he tried hard enough, it would disappear.