Free Will the Real Abi Sanders Please Stand Up? by Sara Hantz Page A

sorry for her.
    “No, they—”
    “Action,” says Zac, cutting dead my conversation with Vince.
    We both turn and look at Tilly.
    “Hui. You’re here. They told me you were dead.” As Tilly clings to Nathan, tears stream down her face. Finally, we get to see the Tilly magic. It’s incredible that with so few words she can give the most spell-binding, heart-wrenching performance. It even brings tears to my eyes. It’s so amazing how she can turn it on for the camera, when she wants to. Yet for me, every time I speak it’s a monumental effort, requiring absolute concentration.
    Her attitude aside, I could learn a lot from Tilly.
    …
    “Cut and hold,” yells Zac. “Good work everyone. Abi, you were spot on. And Tilly, you should be more like Abi. Have an early night, get plenty of rest, and leave the liquor alone.”
    Whoa! I can’t believe he just said that. I’m desperate to take a look at Tilly’s face to see how she’s taking it, except I can’t since when Zac says hold, it means we’re not allowed to move until the cameraman says so. He has to check that everything’s okay and that the scene’s in the can and, if it isn’t, we have to go over it again. So it’s important for continuity we stay where we are. Which, for me, is sitting behind Vince on the motorcycle, looking behind as we’ve managed to escape from our pursuers. A few minutes later, we get the all clear, and I swing my leg around, get off, and head toward the resting tent. My work for the morning is done.
    “Hey, you. Abi.” I glance up and see Tilly heading in my direction. And she doesn’t look like she’s in a good mood.
    “Yes?”
    “I know what you’re doing; don’t think I don’t,” she says in a harsh voice that’s barely above a whisper but still sends a shiver down my spine.
    Not that I have a clue what’s she’s talking about.
    “Sorry?”
    “Trying to make me look bad in front of Zac.”
    This has got to be a bad dream. Since when have I ever done anything to make Tilly look bad? I know Zac said she should be more like me, but he didn’t mean it. Not really.
    “I’m n-not doing anything. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
    “I’m n-n-n-not doing anything ,” Tilly says, imitating me so well it’s like talking to myself. “Don’t give me that crap.” She narrows her eyes. “ Yes, Zac. No Zac. How do you want me to do this, Zac? Is that all right, Zac. Let me kiss your butt, Zac. ”
    Why doesn’t she just shut the hell up and leave me alone? So what if I’m doing as I’m told? I don’t know how much more I can take of her going off on me like this. At least, not without landing a kick right where it hurts. Well, in my dreams that’s what I’d do.
    “I just wanted to get it right. For the movie. I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble.” My voice starts to quiver, and it takes all my resolve to pull it back in. There’s no way I’m going to lose it in front of her, because she’ll just love that.
    “Tilly.” Fraser’s call distracts her, and she turns from me.
    “What?”
    “Zac wants to speak to you about the next scene.”
    “Now what does he want? We went over all this yesterday.” She looks back at me and rolls her eyes to the sky. “That man. I’ll tell you, he must be the worst director I’ve worked with.”
    She lets out a long groan then slowly walks back towards the main set area, slouching and dragging her feet all the way.
    I watch until she’s out of sight, conscious only of my heart pounding mercilessly against my ribcage. I just don’t get it. I’m trying to do a good job for her movie. I’d be happy if she’d just treat me consistently, instead of one day being okay and the next being awful.
    I can’t go wait in the resting tent. Not when everyone else is there, because they’ll want to talk, and now I’m not up to that. I just need to be by myself, to think. I’ll go sit by the river. There’s no filming there today, so I should be undisturbed.
    The river is a