in a louder voice. “We're doing a kid's show?”
“It's not a kids’ show. I saw it a few years ago; it's pretty funny. There aren't many parts, though, and no romantic leads. I'm not sure how Miss Mendelson's going to cast it.”
Greg leaned toward Richard over Lynda's seat. “Are you going to audition for Charlie Brown? Or are you going to wait and see who she casts as Lucy first?”
Richard rested his elbow on Lynda's armrest and glowered at him. “I don't know if I'll bother trying out. How about you? You auditioning for the dog's part?”
Greg's eyes narrowed, and the hairs on the back of Lynda's neck began to rise as if she were in the middle of a thunderstorm. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but neither boy noticed. The silence between them grew denser, thickening the air until Lynda had trouble breathing. “Greg's just keeping me company,” she finally said. “He has to cut out pretty soon.”
With a dismissive shrug, Richard sat back. “Which part are you going for?” he asked Lynda. “Are there any stalwart best friends?”
“I don't know. I'm going to try out and see.”
Richard stood. “I'm not about to waste my time with kids’ stuff.”
Lynda's blue eyes flashed. “I'd rather waste my time than wimp out. Or whine about not getting the part I want.”
He opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it and dropped back into his seat.
Lynda and Richard ended up auditioning together. They read a sequence between Patty and Linus on a seesaw and another between Lucy and Schroeder.
Lynda found herself warming to Richard. He might be conceited, but he did know how to audition. He read his lines beautifully, and as she followed Richard's lead, Lynda began to feel as if she shared his talent. After a couple more scenes, they ran through the chorus to “Happiness,” one of the songs in the show.
Greg watched the auditions until four-fifty, then left. An hour later, Lynda and Richard stepped out of the auditorium, exhausted, but exhilarated.
“You were great, Lynda,” Richard said, beaming.
Lynda felt a tickle in her tummy. “Thanks. You were, too.”
He looked up at the darkening sky. “It's kind of late, can I give you ride home?”
The image of his sleek little BMW flashed through Lynda's mind, and she nodded. She'd always wanted to ride in a convertible. Richard offered her his arm, and they sang about happiness all the way to the parking lot.
* * * *
A DEEP VOICE greeted Lynda while she was running out of the house the following Monday. “Good morning.”
She closed the row house door and looked around. Greg stood on the sidewalk in front of her house. Trying not to smile, Lynda trotted down the steps. “What are you doing here?”
He grinned. “I thought I'd walk you to school.”
The snow had vanished from the streets and sidewalks. Rivulets of water snaked across the asphalt and into storm drains, and the breeze whipping through Lynda's loose hair was damp with melting snow. She hopped onto the side-walk and took a deep breath of the springlike freshness.
Greg took her backpack, and they started walking toward school.
Lynda liked how easily he carried her books as well as his own. She smiled again, then took a good look at him. “You're not wearing a coat. Greg, you're going to freeze!”
He shrugged, and Lynda tried not to be distracted by the way his shoulders moved under his plaid shirt. “It's not that cold,” he said. “See, you left without gloves.”
Lynda looked at her bare hands and shoved them deep into her parka's pockets. “That's because my little brother hid them. I'd be wearing them otherwise—my hands are freezing.”
“Allow me.” Greg reached into her pocket, and engulfed her hand in his.
His hand was so warm. Suddenly breathless, Lynda dropped her gaze. “Are you staying after school this after-noon?”
“Yeah, until five.
“Good, then you can come to the rehearsal with me. If I got a part, that is. I left early so I could
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley