Free Acting Out by Laurie Halse Anderson Page B

David, of course, since he’s filming. Easy, right?
    Except we can’t seem to speak in unison.
    And then David and Josh get a case of the giggles and Josh can’t say his line at all, and David can’t hold the camera straight while he laughs at Josh.
    “I’m not so sure that this is working,” Maggie says. “How many more times do we have to do it?”
    “Should we have some kind of rehearsal?” Jules asks.
    “I didn’t think this would be too difficult,” I say. “David, let me see what you’ve got so far.”
    David hands me my camera and I replay our attempts. The sound isn’t great. We should shoot closer. The last take is too shaky to even consider, but even the first two tries seem jittery somehow. Then I see why.
    “Sunita! You’re wearing stripes,” I say.
    “Um, yeah,” Sunita replies, looking down at her shirt.
    “Stripes dance all over and shimmer on camera.”
    Sunita looks at me like she’s never seen me before.
    “You can’t wear stripes on camera,” I say. “Oh, and everybody, for the next time we shoot, wearsolid colors, but not white or black. White draws too much attention, and black is hard to light. Jewel tones like ruby and emerald are the best. Stripes are out.” I look over at Sunita. She shrugs.
    “Also,” I continue, “small and intricate designs are hard for the camera to read. Pastel shirts are fine, and the color blue is always good on TV. Don’t wear jewelry that moves or makes noise. The microphone might pick it up. Dress simply. Oh, and no words or logos on your shirts. We don’t want people reading your shirt instead of paying attention to our message!”
    “Who knew when we got dressed today that we had to dress
for the camera
?” Maggie sighs. I make a mental note to help her pick out an outfit for next time. I’ll probably have to lend her some of my clothes.
    Gran calls to us from the back porch. “Do you kids want some lemonade?” She jiggles the glass in her hand. “I have a pitcher inside.”
    “We don’t have time for a break!” I yell back. “We’ll lose the light.”
    “Actually, Josh and I really have to get going,” Jules says hesitantly.
    “Me too,” Brenna agrees. “We’ve had a long day.”
    “But what a great day!” Sunita says. “We found the antifreeze spill.”
    “But we don’t have a single take that we can use yet. We need to go through it a few more times.” I look at my friends. I can’t believe that everyone is giving up so soon. The public needs to see these PSAs. And my mother needs to see them. She needs to see that what I’m doing is interesting, too.
    “We’ll get it right, Zoe. Let us know what time you want us next Saturday,” Brenna says, tugging on her jacket.
    “Next Saturday?”
    “Spring break is over. We all have school tomorrow,” Brenna explains. “Saturday is the soonest I can work on this again.”
    “Me too,” Sunita says. “There’s always extra homework when we get back from vacation.”
    Everyone is leaving, and we hardly got anywhere. Maggie walks with Brenna and pretends to dribble and shoot an imaginary basketball as she goes. Josh, Jules, David, and Sunita start heading back to the house, too. I feel miserable. I thought the PSAs were such a great idea, but everything is going wrong, and now we can’t work on them for almost a whole week.
    “David,” Gran calls, “we should talk before you go.” Her voice doesn’t give much away, but she certainly didn’t sound cheery. She turns andgoes back into the house and—most likely—through to the clinic.
    I look over at David. He is pale.
    “Want me to come with you?” I ask. I am relieved when he nods. I don’t know what Gran is about to tell him, but I think he could use a friend right now.
    We walk back to the house in near silence. David usually tells a joke a minute, and he never just walks. David is a stone-kicker, a runner, a jump-around-like-a-baboon kind of guy. The fact that he’s quietly walking tells me he is really