Jack & Louisa: Act 1 by Andrew Keenan-bolger, Kate Wetherhead Read Free Book Online

morning, class. If everyone could take a seat,” the woman said, making her way to the desk at the front of the room. “Today you can sit with your friends, your old classmates, whomever. Tomorrow I’ll be assigning seats, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.”
    Louisa, flustered, turned her attention to the girl standing next to her. They ducked into a pair of empty seats in the back of the classroom. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. I exhaled slowly, staring out the window. Rain clouds had begun to roll in, covering the bright Ohio sun.
It’s just like opening night or an audition
,
I told myself.
There’s nothing to be afraid of
. When had a small classroom become more nerve-racking than a two-thousand-seat theater?
    “I’m Mrs. Lamon, and I’ll be your homeroom teacher for the year.”
    She began unpacking her notebook and stacks of paper from a printed tote bag with a logo reading “Women & Children First Bookstore.”
    “I’m also your humanities teacher. You’ll come to me in the morning and then travel as a group to your other classes. This year we’ll be covering the changes in history, geography, literature, and politics from AD 1600 to the present that have shaped the world we live in today.”
    As Mrs. Lamon continued to explain the curriculum, I peeked over my shoulder to the back of the room. I caught sight of Louisa, our eyes meeting for a second then quickly flitting away.
    “And it looks like we have a few new students to SHMS. Why don’t we go around and introduce ourselves; tell us what school you transferred from and maybe something fun that you did over the summer.”
    I could feel the sweat from my bangs drip down the side of my face. What was I going to say? I spent the summer negotiating an embarrassing voice change in front of an entire cast and creative team?
    “Let’s start with Jack Goodrich. Are you present?”
    I snapped to attention.
    “Erm—yes,” I said, my voice sounding weaker than I’d intended.
    “Oh, right in front of my face,” Mrs. Lamon murmured, peering down her nose through a pair of thin red-framed glasses. “Would you like to tell us a little about yourself?”
    My heart began racing. I hadn’t anticipated having to speak on the first day.
    “Uh, sure,” I said a little louder. “Hi, I’m Jack . . . Good . . . rich.” My name suddenly sounded foreign to me, like a bunch of strange syllables mashed together.
    “And . . . ?” She squinted. “What school did you go to last year? You’re not from Shaker Heights, correct?”
    “No-o,” my voice squeaked. I was trapped. Announcing to the world that I went to a place called the Professional Performing Arts School would seal my deal as bully bait. “It was called PS 87,” I lied, giving the name of my old elementary school.
    A snort cut through the classroom, followed by a smattering of giggles from a group of boys sitting nearby.
    “Yeah, weird name, I know.” I shrugged. “In New York they like to number things instead of name them.”
    “Wow, New York,” Mrs. Lamon said, sitting up in her chair. “That must have been exciting. So . . .” She tilted her head. “What made you move to Ohio?”
    As if by stage direction, a clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. I swallowed hard and quickly looked over my shoulder at Louisa. Her eyes widened.
    “Um. Well—” I tugged slightly at my collar. “My dad. My dad got a job here in Cleveland.”
    “Interesting,” Mrs. Lamon said, looking back to her folder. “Does anyone have a question for Mr. Goodrich?”
    Questions?!
She neglected to mention that my introduction would include a Q&A portion! The room hung silent for a moment until an older-looking boy in an Abercrombie hoodie raised his hand. I cringed, realizing he was from the group of boys who was snickering.
    “Yes. Mister—”
    “Tanner,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.
    “What sports did you play at . . . PS . . .