Free The Fall Musical by Peter Lerangis Page A

you’re not expecting the Mall of America,” Brianna said. “Taft Field is like the world’s first mall or something. I think Cleopatra used to shop there. They’ve fixed it up, though—you can’t really be a Long Islander until you’ve shopped at Taft Field. And besides, you’re going to need some power clothes if you plan to be stage manager.”
    â€œHuh?” Casey finally looked at her. “Stage manager? You still want me to do that?”
    â€œDo you want to?”
    Casey looked stunned. “Well, the reason I came to school was to apologize. I was mean to you the other day.”
    â€œApology accepted!” Brianna said. “Now, let’s discuss the pros and cons of being a stage manager. First the pros. One: You’re perfect. Two: Everybody loves you. Three: You can do this job—it’s mostly just holding the clipboard with the schedule on it, and making sure people stay on track during the rehearsal. Four: If you say no, poor Charles will have a heart attack. Now for the cons. Wait . . . ummmm. Well, I can’t think of any cons, can you?”
    Casey didn’t answer for a long time. “It’s a lot of responsibility,” she finally said. “So much that can go wrong.”
    â€œIt’s a show , Casey. It’s not football or lacrosse or hockey, where you can get your kishkes knocked out.”
    â€œKishkes? What does that mean?”
    â€œI’m not sure. It’s something Vijay says. It’s Yiddish.”
    â€œIsn’t he Indian?”
    â€œYes. You see what a bunch of eccentric and interesting people we have?”
    Casey sighed. “People can get injured onstage. Props can break and cut people. Turntables can trap shoelaces and mangle people’s feet. I read about someone whose jaw had to be wired after she ran into another actor in the dark. I would be responsible for the safety of everyone. I don’t know if I can trust myself.”
    Trust myself? Brianna had to look at her to make sure this wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t. This was too lame. Maybe Casey was afraid of something. Somehow the football incident with Kyle came to mind. “Can I ask you a personal question? Is this about Kyle?”
    â€œ Kyle ? Not at all.”
    â€œIs it the time commitment? Because I totally understand that. There are ways to get your homework done. All of us do really well in school, especially Harrison. Well, me, too. My parents will disown me if I don’t go to Yale. Which is fine with me, because afterward I can go to Yale Drama School. I’ll have six APs, and if I can keep my average above a ninety-six and crack a twenty-three hundred, maybe twenty-three fifty on the SATs, plus community service, school radio station, and orchestra—”
    â€œWow,” Casey said. “Do you ever sleep?”
    Brianna hated that question. It sounded like her mother speaking. “I sleep enough. Some people don’t need much sleep.”
    Through her left window, Brianna saw a massive Hummer heading into her lane. She leaned on the horn and swerved to the right.
    â€œWatch it!” Casey yelled.
    WHAAAAAA! The driver of the car to the right of them leaned on his horn.
    The Hummer lurched back into its lane. A scornful face appeared in the passenger’s-side window, accompanied by a flipped middle finger.
    â€œ He does the wrong thing and then abuses me ?” Brianna leaned on her horn again. “ Hey, you’re two for two—you destroy the environment AND you’re ugly! ”
    The Hummer braked and started to slow down. Its passenger’s-side window slid open.
    â€œ Brianna, don’t! ” Casey shrieked.
    â€œYeeps, road rage, time to book,” Brianna said. The exit for Taft Field was just ahead. She got into the right lane, signaled, took the ramp off the highway, and slowed to a smooth stop at a red light. “Well. That was exciting.”
    Casey was