Read Online Acting Up by Kristin Wallace - Free Book Online

The reality was disappointing, as her survey revealed nothing more than couple of round tables, a sink, refrigerator, and microwave. A handful of teachers were seated at the tables, and they all surveyed Addison with an air of detached curiosity.
    Until they recognized her. Then jaws dropped.
    â€œHello, everyone. Meet Addison Covington. She’s going to be directing our play,” Marjorie said in a matter-of-fact tone, as if a TV star showing up in the teachers’ lounge was an everyday occurrence.
    Marjorie pointed to an ancient woman who’d probably started teaching back when there were still one-room schoolhouses. Addison knew the woman had been teaching when she’d gone to school here because she remembered her.
    â€œAddison, do you remember Ms—” Marjorie began.
    â€œMs. Klusky,” Addison said. “American History. Of course. You’re looking well.”
    â€œI’m looking old,” the other woman said with a grunt. “Did well for yourself, kid. Good for you.”
    â€œThank you,” Addison said with surprise. Ms. Klusky hadn’t had much to say to her before, let alone a word of praise.
    Two men were seated at the closest table. One was nearing forty with a receding hairline and a barrel chest. Even if he hadn’t been dressed in sweats and a T-shirt, Addison would have pegged him as a coach, football at a guess.
    â€œCoach Bennett, our athletic director,” Marjorie said.
    The big man rose from his chair to shake her hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
    The other man was in his early thirties with dark hair falling in elegant disarray over his forehead. The kind of teacher young girls went all gooey-eyed over. British Literature with an emphasis on poetry and the works of Byron, Keats, and Wordsworth, Addison guessed.
    â€œAndrew Laughton,” Marjorie said. “English and literature.”
    Man, I am good.
    Andrew did the coach one better, raising Addison’s hand to his lips in a gallant kiss. “ She walks in beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies,” he said, in a swoon-worthy British accent. “And all that’s best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes.”
    Oh boy… were the girls in this school lucky or what?
    Marjorie gestured to the tiny man at the farthest table. Addison recognized him, too. Mr. Seeley, her biology teacher. He’d always had an air of the undead about him. Tall and skeletal with dark-as-night hair slicked back against his head. Mr. Seeley also had the curious habit of talking without ever moving his lips. The intervening years had brought no aging, but then Addison guessed when one was part of the underworld one didn’t age.
    Seeley arched one brow in greeting, but otherwise didn’t bother to acknowledge her presence. Marjorie caught Addison’s eye and grinned, then moved on to the other woman in the room. She was young, full-figured and apple-cheeked with brown hair.
    Home Economics , Addison thought.
    â€œThis is Maureen Collins,” Marjorie said. “She teaches physics.”
    Addison tried not to gape. The Betsy Ross look-alike taught the mechanics of the universe?
    Maureen giggled. “I get that look every time. What can I say? I’m a geek in Betty Crocker’s body.”
    â€œIt’s three o’clock,” Marjorie said with a glance at the big wall clock. “Time to put the students out of their misery. I’m not sure you should go out there. I can go post the list if you want.”
    Addison put her hands on her hip. “I’m not hiding out like some kind of fugitive. We go in together.”
    Marjorie gave a mock salute. “Whatever you say, boss.”
    With a final nod at the other teachers, Marjorie led Addison out of the room and down several hallways.
    â€œAm I going to need bread crumbs to find my way back?” Addison asked after the fourth turn.
    Marjorie laughed.