Memoirs of a Showstopper | Teen Ink

Memoirs of a Showstopper

November 10, 2011
By dreamer17 GOLD, Tolland, Connecticut
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dreamer17 GOLD, Tolland, Connecticut
12 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Author's note: This story was inspired by my dreams of acting, which turned into my passion for writing. I hope people will read this and realize that anyone can follow their dreams, it's just about taking the first steps.

“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams- live the life you have imagined.”





~Henry David Thoreau

Overture

I was eight when it hit me. The whole acting thing. I didn’t choose to act, acting chose me. It called me out, and I put up my fists, ready for a fight. I didn’t know it would be a fight for fame.

Prologue

Her name was Andy Simons, born Miranda Kate Simons. She lived in a little known place, Forlin, New Hampshire. But of course, to Andy every place that wasn’t Los Angeles or New York City was little known. Forlin had never been commended for anything out of the ordinary. It was a nice place to live, if you didn’t want any drama…
That would be Mr. Paul Simons and Mrs. Rose Simons. Forlin was the perfect place for no-nonsense businessman, Mr. Simons. He was the boss of Shire Lewison Flooring Company. The company was located in Shire, New Hampshire; Mr. Simons never wanted to move the business to their hometown.
Forlin was a normal place. Andy was normal too…on the outside at least. She had three best friends, Colleen Brickham, Jessie Cambridge and (the abusive girl she was forced to tolerate) Julia Aimes.
At the time of her ascent to stardom, Andy was thirteen, in eighth grade at Forlin Middle School, and that kind of made Andy average and normal didn’t it? Her A’s and B’s said it all.
Andy wasn’t average, she never would be. She had her future set to being a critically acclaimed actress. She came home to her house on 382 West Rhode Street everyday, and checked her favorite acting website for acting opportunities.
Andy’s parents would not let her have an agent (of course). So Andy was her own successful agent. She knew she had to start small in a very specific order: modeling for department store magazines, modeling for slightly more impressive clothing stores, commercials (sometimes for those department stores), several random backgrounds not actually speaking in movies, then brief roles in TV shows, then real TV appearances, etc.
Andy had not done any of that. She had never actually auditioned either. It would be a long way up.

Act One

Scene One: My Crazy Neighbor


We stood outside the chain link fence, staring at the yellow house less than twenty-five feet away from us. There was a large ring of startlingly green grass circling the house. Inside the circle was evenly spread dirt, though some might call it mulch. A pond sat calm, black and placid in the yard. This pond had a dock. Yes, a dock, with a rotting canoe tied up to it.
There was also mulch after the green grass circle ended. In the mulch-dirt sat two possibly fake, possibly real palm trees with a hammock tied securely on each trunk.
And of course there were the rock and shell designs. In more mulch were these crazy ten by ten designs made up of rocks and shells. I had been trying to decipher them for a while to no avail. Six sheds surrounded the odd house, and I didn’t want to know what was in them. The body of her dead husband… It was pretty clear to passer-bys why everyone called this Forlin residency “The Crazy Lady’s House”. And I’m sure the ‘No Trespassing’ signs added to the…um, charisma?
She had to be a fortune telling-psychic.
Ok, so, the Crazy Lady was actually my odd neighbor. And apparently my mom had reason to believe she was a fortune telling psychic. She had told me this tall tale, and I was about at my wits end trying to figure out if I actually had an acting future. So, the following statement came to mind: There comes a time in every person’s life when you drag yourself and your best friend to your supposed fortune-telling-psychic-Crazy-Lady- neighbor, just to see if you’ll be an award winning actress in the near or distant future. So, basically, that was why Colleen and I were standing outside the Crazy Lady’s House.

“What if she has a gun?” Colleen suddenly said.
“That’s a good point. I mean, it’s the Crazy Lady, you never know,” I considered the statement, and continued, “It would be a very dramatic story. It could work.
I can see the head line now- Acting Sensation Miranda Simons and Best Friend Colleen Brickham Shot by Crazy Lady.” I frowned, then muttered, “Well, I’m working on the acting part.”
We stood outside the gate for about five more minutes before Colleen said, “Well, G to G, sorry to bail on you on this fantastic mission, but its dinner time. You can come if you want.”
One of the things about the super-nice family of the Brickham’s was that you were always welcome in their home, even when they didn’t really mean it.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”
I sighed in defeat as we started back down the street. I took another glance at the wacky house.

“Follow my lead,” I instructed.
I sprinted back to the gate as Colleen trotted after me. With my long legs it only took one foot in the gate and a good push to get me over. Colleen cautiously came over as well.

“Will we be running?” she asked, pulling her curly brown hair into a ponytail.
I nodded in reply.

“Ok, let’s just go then,”
Colleen was on the Forlin Middle School track team and was a talented sprinter and hurdler, and in a normal situation she would beat me to the door of the Crazy Lady, but not that day. I knew this girl was scared.

“On three,” I said, “one, two, THREE!” And then we were off, sloshing through the muddy mulch and the occasional week old snow bank that refused to melt.
We were there much quicker than I’d expected, and I realized we were probably prepared for a mile rather than twenty-five feet. We stood breathless in front of the white front door, the only normal thing about the Crazy Lady’s House.

“Ugh! This is awful!” Colleen said, examining her muddy and wet aerated sneakers. “My new running shoes! They’re- They’re ruined!”
I grinned slightly impishly.
“It’s what you do to me,” Colleen muttered.
I raised my hand to knock on the door, but before I could it swung open.

A tan old lady stood in the doorway. Her wispy white hair streaked with gray practically came down to her knees. She wore a baggy gray dress that ended at her knees; the sleeves came to her elbows. Her face was very cheery, with a big smile, cheeks raised, and overall she was tan and wrinkly. So this was the Crazy Lady. Well, not exactly what I expected.

“Hello,” she said, still smiling, “You must be my neighbor. It’s about time you joined me.” Gulp. She had been watching us. The Crazy Lady extended her jewel encrusted hand to me. I cautiously put my hand out as well.
“I’m Natalia Lords. And you are?”

“Um,” I stuttered. Why wasn’t she talking to Colleen? That was just it. ‘Natalia’ was acting as if Colleen weren’t even here. “Well, I’m your neighbor, actually.
My name is-“ but the Crazy Lady- er, Natalia, had interrupted me.

“Oh, yes of course. You’re Simons…Kate …Miranda, preferably Andy.”
I gasped, “How did you know that!?” I practically shouted.
Natalia turned to Colleen, “Now, you, I do not know. In fact why you’re here your best friend does not even know. You might as well leave. Your presence is not needed. You may go.” My eyes widened at every word she said. I looked at Colleen, who seldom cried or anything. She was gazing at Natalia curiously.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
Natalia smiled in pleasure. “Colleen Melanie Brickham. Pleasure to finally meet you,” she stuck out her hand and gave her a firm handshake.

“One second, please, girls,” Natalia disappeared into her house, leaving us both in awe. She came back within two seconds, carrying an old sunflower seed sack and a quilt.

“Come. Let me tell your fortunes.” And with that, she laid the quilt out on the wet ground, sat down criss-cross, and patted the spots next to her. We nervously followed her, sitting across from her instead of next to her.
How did she know we wanted our fortunes told? Was she really a psychic? I looked at Colleen uneasily, and she returned the grimace.

Natalia must have seen this, because she immediately launched into a story, “Ok, I’ll tell you everything. First off, no, Natalia Lords is not my real name.
Secondly, I indeed am a psychic, but telling fortunes is how I describe it, really.
When I was sixteen, well, I was sort of adventure-seeking. And, well, I ran away from my safe home here in Forlin. I traveled everywhere; I was a gypsy, truthfully. Eventually I found a group from the circus; they called themselves ‘The Insights’. They were a talented bunch of fortune tellers that taught me the tricks of the trade.
Oh, it was so silly. They dressed me up in bangles and odd skirts, caked makeup all over my face, changed my name, and oh! It was all so ridiculous! I used to just be Katherine Lords, but ‘Katherine’ was just too plain for The Insights. I had to be Natalia. Oh and I was paid too! Paid in gold coins, and I felt like I had found where I belonged, I was a gypsy! I knew I must leave them, ultimately, but The Insights said if I left, I could never join them again. But I had been a gypsy for over five years, and I did have a family whom I had left behind. So, I escaped from the Insight’s. I had two hundred dollars in gold to show for my efforts of five years, which was terribly embarrassing. I came home, then twenty-one, a high school drop out, and my parents weren’t in this very home. They had left, gone away to Florida, from the information I had managed to gather. So I moved back in. Got a job, found a husband, who died when he was thirty-two, and through everything, I couldn’t stop my fortune telling. Of course I don’t get any business these days, but here you are. The first customers I’ve had in eighteen years!”

Natalia’s emotions throughout her story told me she
definitely wasn’t faking. It was really sad though, like something you’d see in the movies. I had a lot of questions I wanted to ask, but figured we should stay on track.
Natalia emptied the contents of her sunflower seed bag onto the quilt. Twelve rocks, an odd looking deck of cards, and six coins fell out. This was her fortune telling bag.

“Three days ago I saw you, Andy, in my crystal ball. You were saying that I was a fortune teller of some sort. Thank goodness for you!” Natalia said.
A crystal ball? Those exist?

“Will you show us your crystal ball?” I asked hopefully. Natalia shook her head. “If another person were to appear in my crystal ball with you watching, it would be against all my morals.”
I snorted, “Let me get this straight: It’s an invasion of someone’s privacy if they appear in your crystal ball, and we see it, but it’s perfectly fine for you to see that? You were spying on me! If we weren’t nice people we could report you to the police!” Natalia blushed in embarrassment.
“Well, yes, that’s very true,” she replied stiffly, “but what I see in the crystal ball involves me in some way. I can’t just say I want to spy on my neighbors. It whirs when it has a vision; I suppose one might say. My crystal ball has not had any information for me lately. So of course I noticed it. Would you like me to tell your fortunes or not?”
Colleen and I exchanged a look, and I replied calmly, “That would be great, Natalia.”
She looked slightly surprised, but just said, “Ok, Colleen first, left to right.” Natalia went to work spreading out the deck of cards face down. “Pick five cards, please.”
Colleen looked at the deck and randomly picked five of the purple-backed cards. “Good, now pick six rocks, and two coins,” said Natalia. Colleen obeyed.
Natalia examined her choices, “Interesting. You picked the card of healing, animals, marriage, mild wealth and death.” Colleen jumped at the word ‘death’.
“Oh, Colleen, relax. You will live a very normal life. If I am correct, then you will have a career in animals and healing, you will be married, you will have mild wealth, and in the end, you will die. Everyone does eventually. It’s nothing to be worried about. As far as rocks go…” Natalia examined the two red rocks, one blue rock, and three green rocks, “Good, very good. You will have two children, one house, and you will be very healthy, including your family. The coins are simple. I don’t even have to look. It’s always the same thing: family and health. That is in your future. No guarantees, but I’m almost always right.”

“Great. A normal future. I didn’t have to come to a fortune teller to figure that out,” Colleen said unhappily. “And a vet? That is not me!”
“Ok, me next!” I was frazzled to know my future. Come on fortune and fame!
“Hand, please,” Natalia requested. I extended my hand.
“Aren’t I going to be picking rocks and coins and cards?” I asked anxiously.
Natalia shook her head, focusing intently on my palm. One minute later, she looked at me. “Oh, well that’s very interesting,” Natalia said quietly.
“What?” I demanded.
“Clarence. I see Clarence. Not just in the future, but in the near future,” Natalia put my hand down.
“Clarence? Clarence? Colleen do we know a ‘Clarence’?” I asked going in to hysterics. What could this mean?!
Colleen scoffed. “No, I don’t think so!”
“Look at the bigger picture,” Natalia said, “Five bucks each.” We both dished out the cash. “Now you girls had better get home.”
We nodded, without protest, though neither of us could shake the feeling that we just got scammed.
The sun was setting, and my mom thought we were at the river. We mumbled some thanks and ran through the mud back onto the street. We started back to my house, very slowly, lost in thought.

“What could she mean? I don’t get it! ‘Look at the bigger picture’ what does that mean? Clarence,” I fumed.
Colleen shrugged. “Well, Clarence: a person, a pet, a name, name of a country, body of water...”
“Colleen, that’s it! Maybe that’s the bigger picture! Clarence is a name! Most names have meanings!”
Colleen shrugged, “So, Clarence probably has some significant meaning. And whatever it is, it’s related to your ‘near future’.”
I smiled, “Yeah, I like that. Unless ‘Clarence’ means something bad!”
Colleen waved goodbye and headed down the street to her house in a full out sprint.
“Track team,” I snorted.
I went inside the house to see my mom stirring something in an electric skillet. Simmering vegetables and pork wafting through my nose told me it was stir-fry night. My mom then turned to me.
“Where’ve you been?” she demanded.
I shrugged casually, “Like I said, the river. Of course, if I had a cell phone, you could have called me to check up on that.”
My mom rolled her eyes.
I stepped over to the skillet, “Looks good, smells good,” I took a scoop of it, “tastes good too!” I laughed at my food stealing.
“Hey! None of that! I had to double the recipe because Jeff ate the whole thing last time. We can’t afford to lose any food, we’re out of leftovers!” Mom said.
I grinned, remembering how once my brother Jeff had eaten all the stir-fry when my mom was at the grocery store.
I skimmed through the newspaper.
“Wow! Tom Gardner’s new movie got three stars! That’s impressive for such a small budget.” I remarked.
“That’s nice, Andy.” Mom mumbled.
“I gotta go, I have homework,” I only partially lied, “No me gusta la tarea, pero tengo mucha tarea de espanol,” I stated in rough Spanish. My mom gave me a ‘in English please’ look. I sighed, “I don’t like homework, but I have a lot of Spanish homework.”
Mom nodded, and continued stirring. I escaped through the living room, up the stairs, and into my room.
My room was light blue. In it was a bureau, closet, desk, bedside table, and a bed. On this bed was my comforter that was white, and detailed with hearts in various shades of blue. I had a large rug, which was dark blue as well. It was a cramped space, but it was my cramped space.
I swung open the closet door and reached up to the bookshelf. It took me a while to figure out which book it was, but I got. It was very thick, for one thing, so how I could have missed it, I don’t even know. “What Should I Name My Baby? The Book. By Cheryl Lotley,” the title read. Half of this book was powder blue, the other half rosy pink. I opened the first page, which was a complete repeat of the front cover. Next page. Same. Next page. Same. Next page. Finally. I began to read:
Dearest future parent friends,
I am so delighted you have picked my book to find the right name for your future bundle of joy! I… (Skip)
I have (Skip)
Will your baby be a boy or girl? This plays an important role in baby-name-picking.
Ok, that was no help. I had to skip three pages before I found one that said “Boy Names”. I then skipped seventy-two pages before I found the “C is for Cuddly” section. Fifteen pages later, I was on the page that had the name ‘Clarence’ on it. I nervously read the definition:
Clarence- a good strong name, is Greek for ‘fame’.

Tempting with fame. I wish I could say I was tempting with fame, but I wasn’t. I was tempting with insanity. Honestly, what in the heck was I thinking? That so-called ‘Natalia’ was messing with me. A mere joke for trespassing on her precious Crazy Lawn. Whatever. I am over it. I only hyperventilated for five minutes when I read the definition of Clarence. Then I was too hyped up to even speak at dinner. And when I woke up that rotten Monday morning, I felt like a louse. Because, you see, everyone goes through a period of extended time in their life when nothing happens, when they merely exist, neither moving forward nor backward. For me, I had existed for four years straight, and the thought of really living for my never-ending daydream was overwhelming. Whenever I had attempted to move to reachable goals (school teams, dance, gymnastics…) I had been pushed back to the ground, only to try and build up again…and Melissa Kings…
I pulled on the only pair of jeans I had, only to realize they were my least favorite ones. Whatever. I am over it. Then all I had to wear was a tank top and an old sweatshirt advertising for shoes everyone hated. Whatever. I am over it. I laced up my sneakers, which was fine, because I wore them most days anyways.
My mom told me we had no milk when I got downstairs-or juice. So, I was stuck drinking water and eating unbuttered toast (we were out of butter too). I’m still not over that.
I knew that with the luck I was having I’d miss the bus. So, that’s where I stood, twenty minutes ahead of schedule. I tossed my backpack onto the ground and sat on a rock. Then I stood up, because Miss Jonah (my bus driver) could very well miss me, sitting there.
Fifteen minutes later, Colleen appeared from around the corner.
“Hey,” she said. I knew Colleen was much too nice a person to criticize or even mention my lazy apparel. And besides, though I loved Colleen unconditionally as my un-biological sister, she wasn’t much of a fashionista to start. Today she wore a pink skirt over brown leggings, tennis shoes, and a green polka dot baby doll style shirt. Colleen had to be an inspiration to someone, seeing that she didn’t care what other people thought.
“No clothes,” I stated, right as my stomach let out a roar, “not much food either.” Colleen nodded and pulled a Carb-O Bar out of her track bag and handed it to me. Leave it to Colleen to be packing a whole box of those.
“Track already? It’s only March first.” I said.
Colleen shook her head, “Coach and I run together nowadays.”
I nodded, and then quickly explained to her about ‘Clarence’. How could I have forgotten that?
“Hmm…” Colleen pondered briefly.
And then ‘the Other Neighbors’ showed up. There was sixth grader, Max, and his eighth grade sister, Sierra. These were
the Lars’. Sierra was texting like a madman on her ‘awesome
three-hundred dollar phone she got for no reason’ as Colleen had once kindly put it, bitter over her simple flip phone.
“Hey, Sierra,” I said just for her million dollar reaction.
She barely glanced up at me, paused for half a second, and then quickly went back to texting.
“HI!” said Max, with his usual enthusiasm.
Colleen and I said our heys, and then went on to chatter, as usual. I was beginning to feel pretty normal again, until Sierra said, “Are you really wearing that? Yeah, way to be Andy. You’re so cool.”
Ouch. Max gave me a skeptical look before saying, “She’s right, you know.”

I sighed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.”
You asked for one of my show stopping lies, now here comes a big one, Sierra,
“And Sierra? We had a power outage, the water was backed up for three days straight, and we just got it back at two in the morning today. Do you want to do laundry at that hour? I don’t think so.”
I turned back to Colleen, even though I really wanted to see the look on Sierra’s face. I heard texting again, and I knew she was talking about me to all her ‘way cool’ friends. Whatever. You mess with Andy Simons and you better be ready for a fight.

The bus came then, and we all got on, Colleen and I sliding into seat 16. It was the beginning of what would be the weirdest day ever.

I was sitting quietly in my seat in homeroom, saying a silent prayer. Dear God, I know I’m not much of a person, but I have a favor to ask of you. I want to be an actress, as I’m sure you know. The possibilities are running low, and I was wondering if you could send me a sign. If I’m not going to be a famous actress, then I would like to know so I can get on with my life. Thanks, that’s all. Love Andy Simons. I straightened up, ready for the day. My teacher, Ms. Arsen, was standing in the front of the class but not speaking. She never talked to us in homeroom. Why today? Oh, no, was she making a public announcement about my horrible wardrobe?
Luckily she was not. She cleared her throat, and we were all at attention.
Ms. Arsen was a plumpish middle aged lady who took favorites and teachers pets like some people take drugs. Her orange brown hair was short and twisty, and overall, undecided. She was wearing a cream colored turtle-neck with green velvet pants. Well, there’s one outfit I’m not particularly envious of.
“Excuse me class,” she began in her nasally voice, “We have a new student. I know you’ll be nice to him. Oh, and here he is, come on in,” she called out the door. A lean, calm looking, rather handsome boy stepped in. His light blonde hair framed his face perfectly.
“Class, this is our new student. This is Clarence Harper.”

Gasp. Can I get an ‘ironic’?
“Clarence, why don’t you sit next to Andy, over there,” Oh, of course.
The guy strolled over, books under right arm, I noted, so he was muscular. He pulled out the chair next to me, set down his books, sat down and said, “Hi Andy.”
What a pleasant kid.
“Hi, Clarence. Yeah, I’m Andy.” Dorky.
He chuckled. Man, who says ‘chuckled’ these days? Any ways, it’s a verb, it’s what he did. The bell rang, and the announcements came on the loudspeaker.
“Good morning. Hi, I’m Principal Garwell, and you’re in Forlin Middle School,” Principal Garwell chuckled to himself. There it is again, ‘chuckled’.
“Principal Garwell, you’re such a dork,” I said to myself. Clarence chuckled-oh God!-again and said, “Yeah, he kinda is; I had to meet him this morning. Quite the eccentric.”
I looked up at Clarence in surprise. He used quirky language like I did. Weird.
I then pulled out my agenda to doodle, but found myself saying, “So, where you from?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t know the place. It’s definitely special though,” Clarence replied.
“You’re from Los Angeles, aren’t you?” I asked.
Clarence smiled in return and laughed, “Yeah, something like that.”
“I’m jealous now.” This was replied to with yet another laugh from Clarence.
“You know, you’re pretty funny, Andy,” Clarence said.
I snorted, “Me? Funny? Yeah, right.”
Clarence gave me a confused look and turned away. Jeez, I hope I didn’t insult the kid.
“Sorry,” I offered, not exactly meaning it. Lacey and Jeff (my siblings) always made a point of how un-funny they thought I was.
“Do you have any siblings?” Clarence asked me, not looking up from his notebook. Class should have begun a while ago, but maybe there was some new-kid confusion and Clarence was supposed to be going to some fancy boarding school.
“Yeah,” I replied. It was weird how I had been thinking of them right then and there, “There’s Jeff, he’s seventeen, graduating this year. He’ll be eighteen in a month. Oh, actually that was October. So, he’s eighteen. Then there’s Lacey. That’s not her real name. It’s really Christine, but apparently she was obsessed with lace when she was little, so I’ve always known her as Lacey. She’s sixteen. She and Jeff are best friends since they’re so close in age, actually they were both born on the same day, and meanwhile, I’m left in the dust. We also have a dog, a mutt mix, and that’s Spot. She isn’t exactly a dog that would sleep on your bed and be a regular old Lassie. I know it sounds lonely, and well, it kinda is, but I have Colleen, my best friend. She lives a street or two away, so it works.”
Um, excuse me, Andy, but why did you just tell a stranger all that?
Clarence nodded, and at that exact moment, Mrs. Arsen dismissed homeroom. I gotta tell Colleen about this.

Scene Four: Checking the Website

I had told Colleen about my possible run in with fate, and believe me; the girl went insane, yelling,
“No way! That’s so ironic!”
I took this irony as a sign that maybe there would be some hope with my favorite acting website, omgimfamous.com. I happened upon this website last year, and have been checking it every day since. All the auditions in America are posted on this site.
The trick (for me at least) is finding an audition in my area. And let me tell you, there ain’t too many. If there ever are (almost never) they are always in Hampton.
Forlin is as far away from Hampton as the state lines will allow. Sure, my parents will gladly make the trip up to the beach in the summer, but not for one of my silly auditions. Nope.
I sat down in our computer chair after my strange day at school and typed in omgimfamous.com. I typed this so often, it literally only took two seconds to key this in the browser. The browser on the website was ‘search my area’. New Hampshire. Two seconds later, I discovered a..a..a list. Huh? A list? Like seriously?
I read the list. No, no, no, no, no, yes. Yes? I quickly, then slowly read the advertisement again and again.
Go-Go-Go Girl Lips!
Looking for eleven to fourteen year old girls eager to act. Auditions for Go-Go-Go Girl Lips! Five girls accepted. Auditions on March 12th, Saturday at Reef Center in Cork, New Hampshire. Call 555-6819. Those excepted will be in a commercial and photo shoot, with possible extended contract. Thank you.

Are you serious? Reef Center is only like twenty minutes away! Go-Go-Go Girl Lips! How perfect! That stuff is good! Plus an extended contract! And five girls! I’ll be famous in no time!

I was pretty confident that my mom would say yes to the audition. People might not know this, and I don’t want to sound like that snobby girl in school everyone hates, but, the camera loves me. I expected that they would take a few snaps of each girl holding Go-Go-Go Girl Lip products, and that’d be easy enough. I was kind of a natural when it came to having my picture taken.
I might not be a pencil but I’m not a whale either or anything close to a whale actually. Uh-oh. What if they want those pencil thin girls? Uh! That is so size-ist! Its ok, Andy, calm down, calm down. I’m sure my fabulous hair and not zitty skin will make up for that. Actually, my skin’s a wee-bit bumpy, but you know they fix that. My hair can be a bit frizzy but I’m a blonde.
My hair was blond, but the base was a mixture of honey and gold. Then I had natural highlights that went from light brown to sunny blond. That had to count for something.
I climbed up the stairs, backpack on back, to my room. Now, when I say my room was tiny, I mean it.
My family had moved three times (and I was kinda hoping for a fourth…to LA possibly?...). First my newlywed parents (at the time) rented an apartment in Southerings, New Hampshire. Southerings was not a very child friendly town, it was a city, strictly business. But, for the time being, it would have to work.
It was also near Shire Lewison’s (a plus). Two years later, Jeff was born. Well, my parents must have figured Southerings would be fine for a few more years. Then two years later, Lacey was born. Time to move to Forlin. So, that happened, and my mom and dad bought a three bedroom house. Life was good, and then, in three more years, I was born. My parents were undecided on how the rooming situation would work out. Lacey and me, or Lacey and Jeff?
Lacey was a month to five and refused to room with “a baby or Jeffy!” as Lacey once said. So, I had to live in my parent’s bedroom.
This was just not working out, and we moved to our current home. Our current home, which had four bedrooms. What was the problem? The fourth bedroom, my room, was originally a fully furnished laundry room. It was the perfect size for a laundry room, but when you make it a bedroom, suddenly it’s a lunch box. Yep, that’s how small my room was.
I flung myself onto my bed and thought excitedly about the audition. What’s today? Oh, yeah, March second. And the audition was the twelfth. What? Jeez, that’s soon! Ok, calm down, it’s a-ok.
That was when Lacey came into my room. Lacey did not look like me. She was on the high school soccer and track team, so she was pretty thin. Then she had a preppy style, and when I asked her to take me shopping with her, she gave me some snappy comment, and went with armed-and-licensed Jeff.
She had dark brown hair without highlights. Plus, she wore her black mascara and eyeliner. She was not Gath, just matching her hair.
“Andy, can I borrow your headphones? Mine broke, and I need to run my miles. I’m in training,” Lacey asked.
“Isn’t everyone,” I sighed, getting up. I opened my desk drawer and pulled out my headphones, “Here you go,” I said giving them to her.

“Thanks,” she replied. I saw her examining my fashion disaster; “Andy, you need to go shopping,” Lacey looked completely disgusted.
“What a problem solver,” I muttered, “Don’t tell me you had clothes? I thought mom didn’t do laundry last night.”
“I have a surplus of clothes for times like this,” Lacey stated.
We stood there without saying much, and she was about to leave, but I blurted,
“You know I’m auditioning for a commercial.”
Lacey laughed.

“And mom’s letting you?” I just shrugged.
“She will. It’s in Cork. If she says no, Jeff could drop me off and go shopping or something.” This was responded to with a roll of the eyes by Lacey, and she walked out.
Mom came to the bottom of the stairs, “Guys! Lacey, Andy! Are you up there?”
“Yes!” we called in replied. I shot down the stairs and gave my mom the quick hug she expected every day after school.
“Hi Andy,” she said to me. My mom was pretty, and looked young for her age. She had smooth skin and short, straight, dark brown hair like Lacey’s. She was kind of lean, unlike some mom’s her age. She was the person that gave Jeff and Lacey their athletic genes. I played soccer and what not, but I was not on anything above rec.
I pulled her over to the couch and sat down.
“Are we having a talk? What’s up?” Mom asked a true look of concern on her face.
“Mom,” I began, “you see, there’s an audition in Cork on the twelfth, and I was wondering if I could go.”
Mom gave me a long look and said, “What kind of audition?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t rejected it yet.
“For a commercial and photo shoot- for Go-Go-Go Girl Lips, they want girls my age. If you can’t bring me, Jeff can.”
I left out the part about Jeff going to the mall, which might have been a deal breaker.
Mom sighed and sat down next to me.
Finally, she said, “Ok, Andy. You’ll have to make all the arrangements, though. And I have to approve the contract.”
I grinned at the news.
“Thanks mom”
I got up and gave her another hug, then rushed to the computer. I had arrangements to make.

I printed out the contract, and called in to reserve a spot, and oh, yeah, wrote it on every calendar in the house. I narrowly avoided a smack from Lacey when I did this to her calendar, so I had to hide in my room for at least ten minutes.
And then I was sitting on my roof, which was conveniently outside my first window, which I had two of: one looking onto the backyard, the other- well, the roof. It was always very bright in my room, because the sun rises right directly in front of the roof-window.
Although some people might think this roof-sitting is unsafe, I strongly disagreed: because after the brief slant of the roof, there was the porch roof, which was flat as a pancake. I sat on my roof every now and then just to be by myself. This had to be kind of an oxymoron but I felt safe on my roof. It’s like no one can hurt me, really.
Suddenly, ten days felt really far away. The thrill of the theatre was a feeling hard for me to avoid. After performing I always felt like I could run a mile. It’s one of my favorite things.
I was totally excited the whole time I was ‘making arrangements’. I printed out the contract rather impatiently, and then called the number on the advertisement, which believe me, that took a while. Who knew seven measly digits could be so hard to dial? I had to then wait six minutes, thirty-two seconds (but who’s counting??) to get through until I finally reached some recordings.
Recorded Message- Hello, you’ve reached Go-Go-Go Girl Lips. To file a complaint, press one. To voice a question press two. To learn about auditions, press three. To-
Me- THREE! (I pressed three)
Recorded Message- Hello, you’ve reached Go-Go-Go Girl Lips Auditions. To learn about our auditions, press four. To learn about auditions in Las Angeles, California, press five. To learn about auditions in (pause) the Midwest, press six. To learn about auditions in (pause) New England, press seven.
Me- (I pressed seven, slightly frustrated by the ‘pause. New England’)
Recorded Message- Hello you’ve Go-Go-Go Girl Lips Auditions in (pause) New England. For auditions in Cork, New Hampshire press one.
Me- Finally! (I pressed one)
Recorded Machine- connecting with a Go-Go-Go Girl Lips associate. Please wait.
Real Person- Hello, Debby here, Go-Go-Go Girl Lips associate. You’ve reached the auditions in our Cork, New Hampshire branch. How can I help you?
(Debby sounded very tired. Must be rough having to say Go-Go-Go so much.)
Me- Hello, Debby. I’m an auditionee. Can you help me out here? I’m a first timer.
Debby (sounded bored)- Name?
Me- Andy Simons. That’s A-n-d-y space S-i-m-o-n-s. You got that Deb?
Debby (slightly annoyed)- Uh-huh. Once you print out the form and contract from the web site, you’ll have to get parent/guardian signatures. Your audition’s at 10:27. Get there early.
Me- No script?
Debby- Yes. Thank you for calling. Goodbye. (and she hung up)

Then I followed her instructions, and ended up on my roof. Well, I’ll just chill here. Not Go-Go-Going anywhere.



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