EIGHTEEN: ZOOEY

 

The TV crew wanted to set up in the auditorium, to get what they called “bump shots” of the stage and costumes for the evening broadcast. I told them that the play wasn’t supposed to start until three thirty, but the reporter, a guy named Ted, told me that he could get what they needed now.

“That might be a problem,” I said. “See, the auditorium’s also the gym, and—”

“We’ll work around it.” Ted popped a breath mint, flashed a smile so white that it hurt my eyes a little, and gestured me forward. “You’re Joey Daniels, you said? The little girl in charge of all this?”

I gritted my teeth. “Zooey Andrews.”

“Right.” He waved to the cameraman and the sound guy and they came trailing up the hall, dragging wires along after them. “Listen, sweetie: I know it’s exciting having us here. Just try to relax. When we get there, I’ll ask you a few questions. Just try to speak clearly and don’t look directly at the camera, okay?”

I shot a glance at the crowded hallway. Classes were changing, and the bad news was that Harlan and I were supposed to be starting gym in about two minutes. I didn’t think that Mr. Shoenwald was going to be too happy to see a news crew showing up during class. Even worse, I was pretty sure that, unlike my other teachers, old Shovelhead wasn’t going to excuse me from class to deal with the reporter and cameras. Getting an excuse from gym was ridiculously hard, and usually required a doctor’s note, if not a broken limb or a blood-spurting injury—either of which would’ve been preferable to having a TV crew videotaping me running around in a pair of gym shorts.

“Where are we going?” Ted the reporter asked. “Which way?”

“I’d be happy to escort you,” a voice behind me said, and I turned around to see Aria standing behind me. She was dressed in her Mrs. Claus costume, boots and full stage makeup, which was a surprise since the play wasn’t supposed to start until after school.

“Aria?” I said, staring at her. “What are you doing?”

“Aria Keen—so pleased to meet you.” She practically knocked me down reaching out to shake Ted’s hand. “Actress, singer, ingenue.” She handed him a glossy black-and-white headshot. “All of my contact information’s on the back.”

Ted glanced at the photo, then up at her. “You’re the one who called my office?”

“Yes,” Aria said modestly, “that’s right. Now if you want to follow me...”

“Wait a second,” I said. “You called them?”

“Well, of course,” Aria said. “Do you think that TV people just happen to come to middle school plays? You have to pursue them.” She smiled back at Ted and his cameraman and sound technician. “If we start walking now, we can get there before class starts.”

“Aria,” I said, “wait.”

She turned back to me with a pasted-on smile. “Do you really think you should be here today, Zooey? You don’t look well at all.”

“I’m fine,” I said, but they were already moving again, and I had no choice but to chase after them, trying to catch up, even though my stomach was making weird burbling noises and I wasn’t sure I should be running.

We were almost to the gym when I saw Harlan pushing his way toward me, but he wasn’t alone. There were two adults following him, and they both looked weirdly familiar, like two halves of somebody I knew from school. Harlan didn’t look too happy to be with them.

In fact, I could’ve sworn he was mouthing the word “run.”