Read Online Jaine Austen 2 - Last Writes by Laura Levine - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Laura Levine
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dollar and pressed C6.
There we were, two fellow noshers, sneaking backstage for our sugar fixes. For the second time that day, Stan and I had bumped into each other in places we were ashamed to be seen.
“Really, Stan. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Of course I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything. It was Stan who did the talking.
“I don’t know how much you overheard outside Quinn’s trailer today,” he said. “But if I were you, I’d forget I ever heard it.”
He was still smiling, but it was a hard-around-the-edges smile that made me slightly uneasy. Was it my imagination, or was mild-mannered Stan Miller actually threatening me?
Then, as quickly as it had come, his menacing air disappeared. Stan was back in doofus mode. He ripped off the cellophane from his cookie and gobbled it eagerly.
“Know what’s also good?” he said. “D4. Grandma’s Brownies.”
And with that, he went waddling back on stage, wiping cookie crumbs from his lips.
Back at the buffet table, Kandi was pouring herself some coffee.
“God, this is excruciating,” she sighed, watching Quinn run his finger along Vanessa’s downy cheekbone. “I don’t know how I could have ever been in love with him.”
“Want a bite of my cookie?” I asked, holding out my chocolate chip frisbee.
Kandi shook her head and waved it away.
“If I ever fall in love again,” she said, “shoot me.”
“No problem.”
I thought about telling her what I’d overheard outside Quinn’s trailer, but decided against it. The last thing Kandi needed was incontrovertible evidence that Quinn had been cheating on her with Audrey as well as Vanessa.
We spent the next few minutes at the buffet table, Kandi unable to keep her eyes off Quinn and me wondering just how long it would take the chocolate chip cookie to take up permanent residence in my thighs.
Then suddenly we heard Dale Burton’s voice behind us, raised in anger. We turned and saw him at the stage door, shouting into his cell phone. “Just tell Bernie to call me back!” For once, he seemed to be on a legitimate call. “This is the third time I’ve called today. Where the hell is he?” He slammed the phone shut and then realized that we’d been watching him. “Agents,” he shrugged, with a forced laugh. “They’re impossible, huh?”
So his agent wasn’t returning his calls. Not a good sign.
He smiled feebly and headed back to join the other actors on stage.
“Okay, everybody,” Audrey called out. “Let’s get started.”
At last, the run-through was about to begin.
Vanessa put the bubble gum she was chewing under the coffee table, and the show got under way. I stood with Stan, Audrey, and Kandi, each of us making notes in our script, checking off the jokes that worked, and making X’s where the jokes died. Later, we’d return to the Writers’ Building and think up new jokes for the failed X’s.
Everything was going smoothly until the scene where Zach comes to pick up Muffy for the prom.
I guess it was an unfortunate choice of words, given the circumstances.
In the script, Quinn hands Vanessa over to Zach and tells him: “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
It wouldn’t have been so bad, if he hadn’t said it with a suggestive leer that reminded everybody of exactly what he had done with Vanessa on the pink chenille bedspread. It was all too much for poor, lovestruck Zach.
“I’ll kill you!” he said, lunging at Quinn.
I don’t know how Zach built up his rather impressive set of muscles, but this much I do know: it wasn’t from boxing. He must have thrown five punches at Quinn, all of which Quinn easily deflected.
“Calm down, kid,” Quinn said, grabbing Zach’s arms and pinning them behind his back. Zach struggled in vain to get free. But Quinn held on tightly, laughing, which just infuriated Zach all the more.
“I really would like to kill you, you slimebag!” he shouted, his face red with rage.
“You’ll have to get in
There we were, two fellow noshers, sneaking backstage for our sugar fixes. For the second time that day, Stan and I had bumped into each other in places we were ashamed to be seen.
“Really, Stan. We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Of course I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything. It was Stan who did the talking.
“I don’t know how much you overheard outside Quinn’s trailer today,” he said. “But if I were you, I’d forget I ever heard it.”
He was still smiling, but it was a hard-around-the-edges smile that made me slightly uneasy. Was it my imagination, or was mild-mannered Stan Miller actually threatening me?
Then, as quickly as it had come, his menacing air disappeared. Stan was back in doofus mode. He ripped off the cellophane from his cookie and gobbled it eagerly.
“Know what’s also good?” he said. “D4. Grandma’s Brownies.”
And with that, he went waddling back on stage, wiping cookie crumbs from his lips.
Back at the buffet table, Kandi was pouring herself some coffee.
“God, this is excruciating,” she sighed, watching Quinn run his finger along Vanessa’s downy cheekbone. “I don’t know how I could have ever been in love with him.”
“Want a bite of my cookie?” I asked, holding out my chocolate chip frisbee.
Kandi shook her head and waved it away.
“If I ever fall in love again,” she said, “shoot me.”
“No problem.”
I thought about telling her what I’d overheard outside Quinn’s trailer, but decided against it. The last thing Kandi needed was incontrovertible evidence that Quinn had been cheating on her with Audrey as well as Vanessa.
We spent the next few minutes at the buffet table, Kandi unable to keep her eyes off Quinn and me wondering just how long it would take the chocolate chip cookie to take up permanent residence in my thighs.
Then suddenly we heard Dale Burton’s voice behind us, raised in anger. We turned and saw him at the stage door, shouting into his cell phone. “Just tell Bernie to call me back!” For once, he seemed to be on a legitimate call. “This is the third time I’ve called today. Where the hell is he?” He slammed the phone shut and then realized that we’d been watching him. “Agents,” he shrugged, with a forced laugh. “They’re impossible, huh?”
So his agent wasn’t returning his calls. Not a good sign.
He smiled feebly and headed back to join the other actors on stage.
“Okay, everybody,” Audrey called out. “Let’s get started.”
At last, the run-through was about to begin.
Vanessa put the bubble gum she was chewing under the coffee table, and the show got under way. I stood with Stan, Audrey, and Kandi, each of us making notes in our script, checking off the jokes that worked, and making X’s where the jokes died. Later, we’d return to the Writers’ Building and think up new jokes for the failed X’s.
Everything was going smoothly until the scene where Zach comes to pick up Muffy for the prom.
I guess it was an unfortunate choice of words, given the circumstances.
In the script, Quinn hands Vanessa over to Zach and tells him: “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
It wouldn’t have been so bad, if he hadn’t said it with a suggestive leer that reminded everybody of exactly what he had done with Vanessa on the pink chenille bedspread. It was all too much for poor, lovestruck Zach.
“I’ll kill you!” he said, lunging at Quinn.
I don’t know how Zach built up his rather impressive set of muscles, but this much I do know: it wasn’t from boxing. He must have thrown five punches at Quinn, all of which Quinn easily deflected.
“Calm down, kid,” Quinn said, grabbing Zach’s arms and pinning them behind his back. Zach struggled in vain to get free. But Quinn held on tightly, laughing, which just infuriated Zach all the more.
“I really would like to kill you, you slimebag!” he shouted, his face red with rage.
“You’ll have to get in
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