Take a Bow Read online

  “HE WHAT?” I’m so shocked, the words came out too fast. I can tell Emme is taken aback by my reaction. “That’s AWESOME, EMME!” I hope I salvage it.

  “You think so?” She looks at me hopefully.

  They aren’t giving out invitations yet and here she’s been handed an audition by the principal. And I thought I was the one who knew how to play the game.

  Well done, Emme, well done.

  “I think you’d do a great job. Is that the song you’re thinking of doing?”

  She looks down at the paper. “I think so. It’s still too early to tell.”

  Maybe Emme isn’t as naïve as I thought. Here I thought she was an ally, but now that she’s attempting to be a singer, she’s becoming part of my competition.

  This changes everything.

  I exit the studio in a rush, pretending I have somewhere to go, but honestly, I can’t think clearly, being in a room with her. As I round the corner toward my locker, I see Ethan struggling with all the stuff he’s trying to shove in his backpack with only one functioning arm.

  He stops as he sees me, and surprisingly approaches me.

  “Have you seen Emme?”

  I know I have to do something, anything to put a crack in Emme’s perfect world. To put me on top again. I’ve been fighting tooth and nail to get recognized by Dr. Pafford, but Emme gets everything handed to her. Well, I’m not going down without a fight. There are only so many spots available in the showcase. I can’t let her get one that belongs to me.

  “Yeah, she’s with Tyler. They went that way.” I point to the opposite way of the studios.

  The mere mention of Tyler’s name makes him frown. I can tell that I’ve hit a nerve.

  “They’re celebrating. Isn’t it great about Emme?”

  Ethan says nothing. My day suddenly gets a whole lot better.

  “You know, that Pafford invited her to do a solo performance at the showcase. Emme’s going solo!” Ethan blinks. “Anyway, I told her I’d join them. Don’t they make the cutest couple? I think your little stunt at the concert just made them closer.”

  I turn on my heel and see Carter standing there with his arms crossed.

  “What are you doing?” His face is red.

  “Oh, um … hey, Carter. I was just leaving!” I grab him by the elbow to walk away, but he pulls my arm off of him.

  “Ethan, Emme is not with Tyler. And I don’t know why she’s talking about Emme going solo.”

  I cut him off. “You don’t know anything. Emme confided in me, okay? She’s my best friend, not yours.”

  Carter shakes his head. “Yeah, some best friend …”

  “What’s going on, guys?” Emme approaches. She looks between us and I’m frozen. I’ve got to think fast before everybody turns on me.

  “Oh, Emme!” I run up to hug her. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I’m so excited for you, I accidentally let it slip about your solo thing. I’m so proud of you!”

  She stands there. “Oh, I …” She turns toward Ethan, who looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “I was going to tell you. I just don’t know if I’m going to do it or not.”

  Ethan nods. “You should definitely do it. It’s what I’ve been telling you to do all along.”

  Further proof that Ethan’s trying to sabotage me. Why else would he encourage her to go solo?

  “Really?” She looks at him with a blinding admiration.

  I approach Carter again. “Well, we should really leave the two of them alone.”

  “That’s not all you said.”

  Why is Carter trying to ruin my standing with Emme?

  Emme looks at him. “What?”

  Carter stares me down. Emme, clearly confused, looks at Ethan. “What’s going on?”

  Ethan looks down at the floor. “She said that you’re back with Tyler. Is it true?”

  “What? I didn’t say … Sophie?” She looks at me, and I can tell that our friendship is teetering off a steep cliff if I don’t fix this.

  I can’t have Emme hate me. Sure, I want to rattle her before the audition, but I need her song for the showcase.

  “Em” — I pull her aside — “I’m so sorry. I was trying to be a good friend. I brought up Tyler to see what Ethan would say. I guess I messed everything up. I’m so sorry. But I think that maybe this gives you an opportunity to talk to Ethan and you guys can clear the air. I’m just trying to help.” I give her the best woe-is-me look I can muster.

  “That’s okay,” she says softly.

  I give her a big hug, apologize another gazillion times, and tell Carter we should leave them alone.

  Shockingly, he agrees to go with me. But he stops as soon as we get outside.

  “What was that?” He gestures toward the door.

  “Simply a case of too many cooks in the kitchen. There’s bound to be some misunderstanding with all those people …”

  Carter sits down on one of the stone benches that line the front entrance. “You were the only one talking.”

  “Carter, it’s been a long day.” I grab his hand. “Let’s just —”

  He pulls away from me. “I don’t know who you are anymore, Sophie. You used to be so kind and considerate, and now you’ve just gone too far. It was becoming pretty clear to me that you were using me — you aren’t the first and you probably won’t be the last. But Emme? How can you do that to her? You know she looks up to you and has absolutely no idea how manipulative you are.”

  I stand up. “Why is it always about her? Huh? Why do you care about Emme? What, do you want to date her now, too? Well, you’re going to need to get in line.”

  “I’m not interested in Emme that way. She’s the first person who listened to me and tried to help me, plain old Carter. All you want is your name and photo with Carter Harrison. And I’m not going to play that role any longer. I’m tired by it. I’m tired by your games. I used to think you were special, Sophie, I really did. But now I see the real you and can’t believe I put up with it for so long.”

  I can’t believe he’s breaking up with me. That he’s doing it now. Before the showcase. Before I’m a star.

  “Please, Carter, I’m so sorry. You can’t do this to me….”

  He gets up. “Good luck with everything, Sophie. I know how much being a star means to you. I just hope you don’t ruin too many friendships while you claw your way to the top.”

  He walks away and I feel deflated.

  Why is everything falling apart for me?

  How could Carter just break up with me like that?

  Like I meant nothing to him. Like I’m nobody.

  I’m not just anybody. I am special.

  I won Brooklyn’s Most Talented Kid five years straight.

  I’ve beaten Emme anytime we’ve had to compete together.

  I got a standing ovation during my rendition of “Send in the Clowns.”

  Okay, so I’ve made some mistakes. But if there is one thing I know, it’s how to get back on top. I can’t let everything come crumbling apart because of one little misunderstanding.

  Step One: damage control. I pick up my phone and place a call.

  “Gossip Guru, this is Stacy.”

  “Hey, Stacy, it’s Sophie Jenkins … Carter Harrison’s girlfriend.”

  There’s a slight pause. “Oh, hey, Sophie, you guys going out tonight? Would love to get some photographers there.”

  “No, but I do have a story for you.”

  I tell Stacy about Carter breaking up with me on the steps of the school (complete with tears) and make sure I give her my name four times.

  Step Two: I’ve got some cupcakes to buy.

  Mrs. Connelly is happy to see me as she opens the door to their brownstone. So everything seems normal as I walk into Emme’s room. She’s lying on her bed, writing out some math problems.

  “Emme?” I say softly.

  “Oh, hey, Sophie, I wasn’t …”

  I open up a box of cupcakes.

  “You didn’t need to …”<
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  She looks at the cupcakes and I can slowly see the wheels turning in her mind.

  “Em, I need to talk to you.” I sit on her bed. I let out a sigh. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me lately. I feel lost. And I haven’t wanted to burden you with anything because you’ve been so busy, but I really need you to know something.”

  Her eyes are wide as she pats the place next to her for me to sit.

  “I don’t think I’ve been a very good friend.” She doesn’t say anything. “Things haven’t been going as I planned at CPA. You know that. I don’t know why I’ve had such a hard time. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I’d stayed in Brooklyn.” Tears, real tears, sting the corner of my eyes. “But the one thing that I’m glad of, that I’m proud about, is that you went to CPA. It’s been amazing to see you grow and shine. I know that I’ve been so focused on me, and I think you need to know how much your friendship means to me. Not just now, but since we were kids. I remember first seeing you onstage and knowing that I had to meet this insane pianist … at eight!

  “I know you have a lot going on … and I hope that you know you can come to me if you ever need anything. And I don’t want us to hang out just when we’re rehearsing. You’re my friend, my best friend. I miss us just hanging out. And I really feel like you need to know that I’m there for you. No matter what.”

  “Oh, Sophie.” Emme reaches over and gives me a hug.

  I finally break down and sob. She holds me and doesn’t say anything.

  It makes me cry even harder. I can’t make myself stop. Because this pain I feel, this hopelessness over my future, is real.

  Everything I ever wanted is slipping from my fingertips. My life has started spiraling out of control, and for the first time, I don’t know what to do to stop it.

  I thought I knew exactly how to become a star. But maybe I don’t know anything.

  And I hate myself for it.

  I can’t help but laugh at the headline.

  ME: Read it again!

  Mom shakes her head and picks up the paper.

  MOM: “Carter Harrison: Heartbreaker.”

  ME: That’s genius. Gossip Guru really is in line for a Pulitzer this year.

  I cross my fingers, and Mom throws the paper down.

  I pick it up and start reading about me. It’s funny because even though it’s my name and a picture of me from some event a few months ago, it feels like it’s about someone else. My favorite line: “So be on the lookout, single New York gals. There’s another hot bachelor on the loose who has a leading-lady role to fill.”

  But I have to admit what I love the most is that Sophie is not mentioned by name.

  MOM: I thought once you didn’t have a publicist, we didn’t have to worry about things like this getting leaked. That Jill would have had a field day with you being single again. Remember her? The one you had before Sheila Marie? The one who leaked your audition to CPA?

  I stare at Mom. I thought she leaked …

  I’m adding this to the list of grave misunderstandings I’ve had about my mother. I can’t believe all these years I’ve assumed that any press leak was her fault. Or any disagreements she’s ever had with producers were because she was a control freak (when actually she was looking out for her child). Or, most importantly, the idea that I’m still an actor is her sole responsibility.

  Still, I can’t get over how well she’s taking the fact that I’m leaving acting. I guess it’s not for another three months, but still. And she’s been really supportive of me looking into art schools.

  ME: Is that why she was fired?

  I remember thinking Jill being fired as my publicist had to do with the lack of press coverage my attending CPA was getting. Anytime there was a mention of it, Mom always commented on it. But I assumed she was unhappy with the placement or something. Not that she was upset that it was mentioned at all.

  MOM: Yes. I made it very clear to her that your education is a private matter. If she wanted to promote the public shows you were in, that was fine, but your classes and personal life were off-limits.

  I never even bothered to wonder what my publicist’s job was. Mom took care of all that stuff. I did what they told me to do.

  Something starts to register with her.

  MOM: Who did you think leaked the audition to the press?

  I don’t say anything.

  She picks up the paper and starts to read.

  ME: Mom, when I was little, did I enjoy going on all those auditions?

  MOM: Yes. Every morning, you’d come and sit on my lap and ask me who you were going to be that day. You really seemed to love it. I used to take you to McDonald’s after all your auditions because I wanted you to experience something normal — eating greasy food, playing with the other kids…. I didn’t really know what else to do. I was a single mother who wasn’t planning on having a son with such famous aspirations.

  I’m just starting to come to terms with the fact that everything that has happened to me was my responsibility. I’d hate Mom to think that I’ve painted her as this typical stage mom, because she’s anything but.

  MOM: Oh, honey, there’s a new art exhibit opening at the Guggenheim. Do you want to go next weekend?

  Most kids would kill to have such an understanding and supportive parent. I’ve had one my entire life but have pushed her away. Because it was easier to put the blame on someone else.

  But the second I realized that I was the one who was preventing myself from being happy, a whole new world has opened up for me.

  I’m happier, more confident, and now, thankfully, single.

  And I might be ready to become my truest self.

  Since I’ve, as they say, seen the light, I figure I should pass along the gift of being able to finally see clearly.

  Emme studies the menu with such pinpoint focus, you’d think she was memorizing a foreign language.

  EMME: Are you sure you’re allowed to eat this stuff? I don’t see grilled chicken anywhere.

  ME: Hey, I do this once a week. I’m letting you into my dirty little sugar underworld. Are you in or not?

  EMME: Oh, I’m definitely in. I’m thinking vanilla ice cream —

  ME: Boring!

  EMME: Let me finish. With peanut butter sauce, hot fudge, caramel, marshmallow topping with whipped cream, almonds, and a cherry, of course.

  ME: Of course.

  Emme orders a ridiculous sundae from this ice cream shop I discovered a few years ago when I was walking home from the soap’s studios in Hell’s Kitchen. Now that Chase Proctor has come down with a fever (Spoiler alert! It turns into an incurable disease that leaves me in a coma … in case I ever decide to come back), I’ve been able to keep my shirt on.

  We sit down in a corner and she dives in. Lately, she has seemed a little bit more self-assured. I think we all knew that she was special and I’m hoping that maybe she’s starting to realize it as well.

  ME: So will I still have my arm if I try to get a bite?

  Emme has been happily shoving the gooey sundae in her mouth.

  EMME: Oops, sorry.

  She takes a big spoonful and pushes the rest of the sundae — well, what’s left of it — to me. For a little thing, she certainly has a big appetite.

  EMME: So, I’ve been working on my song for the showcase. I think I’m going to audition for it. Do you know what you’re going to do?

  Senior Showcase audition invitations were issued earlier this week. I wasn’t even happy when I got mine.

  ME: What do you think the audition board would do if I showed up with one of my paintings?

  EMME: That would be wonderful. I really like the one you did of the view of Central Park with the dots.

  She starts poking the air with her spoon.

  ME: Pointillism.

  EMME: Spoken like a true artist.

  It’s so weird to hear anybody say that about me. An artist.

  But this isn’t about me. There’s something I need to tell Emme.
And I have a feeling — actually, I know for a fact — that this won’t be the first time someone’s tried to talk sense into her.

  ME: I wanted to talk to you about Sophie.

  I can tell by the way that Emme reacts that she’s worried that I’m going to get back together with her. I believe the term a cold day in hell would best describe the possibility of that ever happening.

  Better get right to the point.

  ME: You know she’s using you, right?

  Emme drops her spoon and she slouches down in her chair. Happiness gone, just like that.

  EMME: I know what everybody thinks, okay. I’m not that stupid. And don’t think that I don’t ever get upset when she only reappears when she needs something, because I do. It really does hurt my feelings. But what does everybody expect me to do? She is the one who has been singing my songs. I never would’ve had the nerve freshman year to get up in front of the school to sing — I don’t even know if I can do it now. So for the past three years, she has given me the confidence to have my songs be heard. I can’t just dump her because I’m going to try to sing. I know we aren’t the friends we once were, but you have to remember that I’m the one who started a band without her. That I’m the one who hasn’t had a lot of time for her. Not to mention that I’m the one that is having ice cream with her ex-boyfriend. So don’t put all the blame on Sophie.

  She picks up her spoon and scrapes the bottom of the glass.