Free Act 2 (Jack & Louisa) by Andrew Keenan-bolger, Kate Wetherhead

Prince Dauntless. He came nowhere near the level of Belinda’s talent, but there was something charming about him—mostly because he seemed to be having a lot of fun onstage. And Jenny was right—there was something oddly familiar about him. I turned to see Mrs. Westcott giggling.
    “He should look familiar,” she said, grinning, “though he’s filled out a bit since 1991.”
    We inched even closer to the screen. Jack let out a small gasp.
    “Oh my God,” he whispered, “it’s Coach Wilson.”
    Jenny and I squealed.
    “Oh my God, it
is
Coach Wilson!” Jenny screamed. “Look at how
skinny
he was!”
    “Well, back then he was Mike Wilson,” Mrs. Westcott corrected, “and he was our star soccer player. But he got hurt during practice early in our senior year, so he had to sit out the season. In high school they do the musical in the fall, so our drama director recruited him for
Once Upon a Mattress
.”
    We stared at Jenny’s mom, our mouths agape.
    “I have to say,” she said, “he started out reallyshy in rehearsals, but by the time we opened he’d turned into quite the ham.”
    As if to illustrate Mrs. Westcott’s point, we heard a shriek from the television screen, only to catch Coach—I mean, Mike—Wilson executing a pretty decent pratfall, his gangly limbs flailing.
    “I think Belinda brought out his inner clown,” Jenny’s mom continued, “or forced it out, really. She wanted to look good on that stage, you know? So she worked with him a lot to make sure her leading man was up to snuff.” Suddenly our run-in with Coach Wilson earlier that day took on a whole new meaning.
    “You kids are in for quite a treat!” he’d said, then headed toward the double doors leading to the basement stairwell, carrying two cups of coffee. One of those cups must have been for Belinda, who did mention that she’d run into “an old friend over the holidays.” Watching the two of them in
Once Upon a Mattress
made it clear why he was so excited—his leading lady had returned home.
    “Well, I’m psyched,” declared Jenny, hitting the pause button on the VCR. “Belinda seems awesome.”
    I looked at Jack, who sat nodding enthusiastically in agreement.
    I suddenly had an image of poor Mrs. Wagner laid up in a hospital bed, encased in a body cast. I felt bad that no one, not Coach Wilson, not Mrs. Westcott, and certainly not Jack, Jenny, or me, seemed too upset that she’d been replaced. But I felt good knowing that we would probably not be standing in a straight line anytime soon. Not with Belinda Grier running theshow.

-JACK-
    “Have you memorized your lines yet?” Lou asked the next day, slamming her locker shut.
    “What are you talking about?” I laughed. “Belinda hasn’t even announced what scenes we’re doing for the auditions yet!”
    “Right,” Lou said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. “But I’ve narrowed it down to the scenes before ‘Sue Me’ and ‘Marry the Man Today.’ They show off both dramatic and comedic range and only have two people in each scene, making them prime audition options,” she said, following me to homeroom. “I figured I’d look at them both; that way no matter what she chooses, I’ll have a head start.”
    We walked down the hallway past the nurse’s office and the giant trophy case. As we turned the corner we were met with a vision of Belinda perched on a ladder, a roll of tape around her wrist, plastering audition posters to the wall.
    “Well,” I whispered to Lou, “why don’t you just ask her yourself?”
    Even while taping up posters, Belinda seemed to be striking a pose. She wore a pair of leopard-print leggings, a bright orange top, and a cropped leather jacket. Her shoes, I recognized immediately as LaDucas, a fancy brand of dance heel often worn by Broadway chorus girls. Her knee was bent, her foot pointing out like someone being kissed in a 1940s romantic comedy.
    “Well, if it isn’t my little minions,” Belinda said, throwing