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A short story by Kalee Calhoun, Brittany Walker, and Alex Ade Mrs. Gardner Period 1
 * Making it All the Way **

//I looked out into the audience. All of the faces I saw belonged to strangers. They were waiting for me. The spotlight shone on me, and only me; the red velvet curtains were pulled back to the edges of the stage. A light sheen of water droplets plastered dark hair to the edges of my forehead. In, out, in, out: my steady breathing washed all fears of stage fright and misfortunes from my mind like a gentle wave. A forlorn microphone, standing just out of reach, squeaked slightly as I stepped forward: right, left, right, left. It was my time to shine and show the world what I could do. I opened my mouth, the lyrics to the song I was about to sing speeding through my head like racing jets, and...//

//Ring! Ring! Ring!// I shot straight up in bed, breathing heavily, and snapped my eyes open, disappointed that my dream was just a dream, and nothing more.

I rolled onto my right side and smacked the snooze button on my annoying alarm clock. //Ah,// I thought to myself, //what a wonderful dream.// Vibrant images of myself singing on a bright stage flashed behind my heavy eyelids as they began to droop again. I willed myself to go back to sleep, trying with all my might to be sucked back into the world of fantastical dreams. My stupid alarm clock started to chime once again, and this time I didn't even bother to turn it off. I just walked out the door of my bedroom and took a left to get to my bathroom. //It will turn off eventually//, I told myself, //Well... I sure hope it does.//

I splashed some water on my face to wake up, and stared into the bathroom mirror at a girl. She had emerald, almond-shaped eyes, messy brown hair, and fair skin, with a blanket of freckles covering her straight, strong nose. This is thirteen-year-old me: Addison Parker. This is the girl who has a dream to make it to Broadway.

I went downstairs and ate a bowl of cereal, then walked to the bus stop. My driver's route always took Broadway, so I admired all of the beautiful theaters as the bus passed them. I stared in awe at Winter Garden Theater and sighed, wishing I could someday perform on its stage. I imagined myself in that theater, and replayed the dream I'd woken up to.

After we were off Broadway, all I could think about was chorus while I sat in the back row of the bus's grimy seats. School was definitely what I dreaded having to face every day. The lecture-filled classes and awful projects bored me to tears. I would have dropped out of school years ago, but I just couldn't have given up chorus. Chorus class was the only place where I could get away from all the other things in the world and focus on what I loved the most.

The bus was late to school, so I rushed to first period, desperately hoping I would arrive unnoticed. No one seemed interested as I snuck into the room, and class whizzed by before I realized it had started.

As I sat in class, waiting for the bell to ring, I let my thoughts wander to happier places, such as the chorus class I was going to attend after lunch. I daydreamed through Language Arts, Science, Math, and History, only thinking about my favorite class.

Finally, the bell rang, and it was lunch time. All I had to do was eat lunch and then I was off to my most loved class of the day. Every day during lunch, I got to hang out with my super-cool best friend, Margo. She'd been my best friend since we were little, and we did everything together.

Margo pranced to my side. She had auburn hair and hazel eyes, with blotchy freckles covering her face. Her exceptionally tan skin always shined whenever she was in the sun. Margo was loud and talkative, so it was always fun to be around her.

"How's it going?" Margo asked me as we browsed the food options (all of which resembled moldy meatloaf) in the lunch line.

"Okay, I guess. Nothin' new," I responded. "What about you?"

"Well, I just heard some juicy gossip..." and so she launched into her speech about who's doing what and other stuff that I really didn't care about that much. Even though I didn't pay much attention to her, this was one of the things I liked most about Margo— her nonsensical jabber takes my mind off of school stress.

Margo's babbling carried me through lunch, and soon I entered the room of my beloved chorus class.

As I walked into music class Mrs. Potter greeted me with a warm smile.

“Good afternoon, Addison. How are you?” Mrs. Potter asked.

“I’m doing great! How are you?” I replied.

“I’m doing well, thanks,” Mrs. Potter said.

I looked around the classroom and, as always, I was first one to get to class. I took my usual seat in the front row of bleachers and waited until class started. Class finally began after a few minutes of other students shuffling in the door.

Throughout class we rehearsed the songs our class planned to sing for our upcoming concert. Every time I sang, my heart fluttered with joy. It was almost like I turned into a whole different person whenever I sang: I transformed from a shy, cautious girl, into a confident girl filled with passion for singing. Mrs. Potter’s approving smile added to my delight all four of the times I received it during class.

After 45 too-short minutes, chorus, to my despair, came to an end. As I walked out of the room, I glanced over to see one of the many posters covering Mrs. Potter’s bulletin board. There was a new poster I hadn’t seen before, so I walked over to it and read //Grease on Broadway— Auditions.// I absolutely loved //Grease//! This was the perfect opportunity for me to share what I really loved to do with others!

There were flyers about the audition available, and, of course, I grabbed one. I was so overwhelmed and couldn’t wait to tell Margo and my family. Margo, along with my mom, dad, and little sister, had always helped me practice memorizing and perfecting songs for chorus concerts, so I was sure they would be happy to hear this.

//Wow//, I thought, today was an awesome day. //And it will be even better when I know for sure that I can audition.// After Spanish and gym were long gone (thank goodness), I went home on the school bus – but only after telling Margo all about the audition and debating over the song I would sing. Nothing eventful happened on the ride home, and when the driver finally stopped on my street, I practically skipped to my apartment building in New York City and up the four flights of stairs to my family’s place. As I opened the door, I was bursting with excitement to tell my family the great news.

“Hi Mom. Hi Dad. Hey Irina,” I said while I set my backpack down on the kitchen table.

“Hi sweetie. Hey Addison. Hi sissy,” came the jumbled replies.

“Hey Mom,” I said, walking over to where she was fixing dinner, “I found this flyer for an audition this Saturday. And guess what—it’s //Grease on Broadway//! I was wondering if I could try out and maybe make a part if the judges pick me. I know it’s sudden, but lately I’ve really wanted to share my voice with more people than just the students in chorus class,” I explained in a rush.

“Well, honey, I think it’s a great idea! But you do know that if you receive a role, it’s a lot of responsibility and a big commitment, right?” I nodded, already knowing that it would be a big obligation. “Okay. In that case, let me check the calendar, and if we’re free this Saturday, then you’re in luck. And, let me just warn you—since this is such late notice, don’t get your hopes up about us not having any plans,” my mom advised me as kindly as she could.

She opened a cabinet, and while she checked our plans on Saturday, I wished with all of my heart that I would be able to go.

“Oh, good. We’re free, sweetie,” I exhaled the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding and listened to my mom continue. "Do you know where this audition is?"

"It's at Winter Garden Theater on Broadway," I answered.

"Oh! That's perfect! I know just where that is. I went to that theater to see... hmmmm... what was the name of that show?" She paused for a minute to think about what the answer to her totally off-subject question was. She gave up after a few minutes and continued with, "Oh well. That's not what's important. So, anyway...you, Irina, and I will take the subway to the Winter Garden Theater, and then your sister and I will go do some birthday present shopping for your cousin, Joey.”

My mom prattled on about what she and Irina should get Joey for his ninth birthday, while I waited impatiently for Saturday to come. I woke up at about seven o'clock on Saturday morning, in order to reach it to Winter Garden Theater in time for nine o'clock. The flyer said that auditioning started at nine-thirty, so I figured that half an hour would be plenty of time for me to review the lyrics to the song I had chosen. I got dressed in my favorite blue sweater, pairing it with my best skinny jeans and cute ballet flats, quickly threw a few things in my old bakcpack to keep me entertained if I got bored, then went downstairs, ate breakfast, and watched old cartoon reruns with Irina.

Soon I was on the subway, heading straight for Winter Garden Theater on Broadway with Irina, my mom, and a whole bunch of scary-looking strangers. As I thought about the audition, my emotions went from excited, to nervous, to impatient, to stressed, to relaxed, and back to excited again. I was feeling so many different emotions it made my head throb. Well, maybe my headache was from the awful smell of the subway. The unmistakable aroma of the subway circled in the air around me, filling my nostrils with the smell of sweat, dirt, sewage, and other disgusting things found in an over-populated city. I would always hate the smell of subways and the gum stuck under the plastic seats and the dirt and trash everywhere.

But at this moment I wasn't as aware as I usually was of those things. I was too focused thinking about what my audition would be like. I stared at the teenager that was sitting across from me, wondering what made her want to get an eyebrow piercing and why she decided to dye her hair green. I let my internal babble carry me away from my growing anxiety, and was led to a memory from six years ago.

//“Let’s hear you sing, Addie!” Margo shouted.//

//She was seated on a carpet of soft green grass along with my family and a few other friends. We were in Central Park, enjoying a picnic consisting of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on a perfect summer day. I was standing in front of the clustered group of people, a gentle breeze blowing hair into my eyes.//

//I confidently readied my voice, and didn’t even hesitate as I began to recite my favorite song at that time, which was// We are One//, from// The Lion King II//. I even attempted to add in a few silly dance movements, making my personal audience laugh along with me.//

//Once I finished, everyone erupted in cheers. My mouth parted to make room for a proud, wide smile that covered my entire face.//

//“That’s the way to sing, Addie!” Dad yelled.//

//“That was amazing, sweetie!” complimented my mom.//

//“Sing again! Sing again!” Margo added.//

//And so the crowd begged me to sing another song, chanting, “Addie! Addie! Addie! Addie..."//

“Addie! Addison! Addison, sweetie, you need to wake up now; we’re at the theater,” my mom whispered into my ear.

I snapped back to reality, a jumble of emotions about the audition flooding my mind and cramming into every space of my being.

I recalled the memory I had just relived, and grasped how different the person from six years ago was compared to the stage-fright stricken girl that I was currently. I was feeling nothing near confident. I was so worried that I would mess up and not make the casting. I was excited because this was the first time I had ever auditioned, but was nervous for just the same reason. So many things were racing through my mind as I slowly climbed off the subway: How should I act? Did I wear the right kind of clothes? What will happen if I do bad? These fears shoved aside my memory from six years ago, occupying all the space in my mind.

I paid no attention and failed to relax as Irina, my mom, and I passed stores and buildings and people, making our way to Winter Garden Theater. I kept asking myself a mess of pessimistic questions, but never found any answers. I tried to count my steps, started looking in the windows of stores nearby, and even counted how many people I passed, aiming to distract myself. But there was nothing that could keep my mind off the audition.

When we finally reached Winter Garden Theater, I reluctantly opened the door and walked into the lobby with Irina and Mom behind me. My body shook with every step I took. I walked up to the lady sitting politely at the front desk and told her my name and information, and was given directions for how to find where the //Grease Auditions// were happening.

I forced myself to smile as I hugged my mom and sister goodbye and gave my thanks to the reception lady. I turned and walked down a long hallway that seemed like it would never end, and prepared to meet my future.

After following the directions I had been given, I came to a little room right behind the stage, where all the teenagers trying out were waiting. I looked around and quickly found an unoccupied corner, where I curled myself into a little ball, trying to distract my panicky nerves by reading the library book I had packed (which was probably three months overdue). It was very hard to focus on what I was reading, so I found myself re-reading the same passage over and over again.

As I unsuccessfully tried to read, a lady would occasionally jump into the room and call out the name of the next ‘auditioner.’ She was always followed by a kid that was either crying because they hadn’t made it, or holding a yellow piece of paper in their hand, with a huge smile completely covering their face, because, obviously, they had made it. Every time I heard the lady run into the room, I jumped, desperately hoping that I wouldn’t be the judges’ next victim.

I had just begun the second chapter of my overdue library book, when I felt someone’s eyes on my back. I turned around stiffly, aiming to look inconspicuous, when I spotted the culprit. He was standing right behind me, his blue eyes sparkling, with a genuine, lopsided smile plastered on his face. He looked to be about my age, maybe a little older.

“Hi, I’m Seth,” he said.

“Uh… hi. My name is Addison,” came my brilliant reply.

“Well, uh, nice to meet you, Addison. I was just wondering if you were all right. You don’t look so good.” I hadn’t actually been thinking about what I looked like while I was curled up into a ball in the corner of the room. I probably looked very not-all right and really anxious— which I was, of course. No wonder he was worried about me.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m just nervous, and don’t know how to calm down,” I replied.

“Well, you really shouldn’t be nervous. Just calm down and relax. Pretend like this audition is just another rehearsal, and—” Just as I was beginning to relax, Seth was cut off by the announcer, who was yelling, “Addison Parker!”

//NOOOO!// My mind shrieked. //Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!//

“Well, I’m guessing that’s you,” Seth said. His calm voice was like a rainbow smack in the middle of a tornado—completely out of place with the screaming going on in my head. “Good luck, Addison. I haven’t heard you sing, and kinda just met you, but I hope you make it. Just remember—this audition is only another rehearsal.”

Seth gave me an encouraging smile and, not caring that he barely knew me, helped me up. I wobbled toward the door that led to the theater on legs made of Jell-O. As I walked onto the stage, I kept repeating: "It's just another rehearsal. It's just another rehearsal," under my breath, trying to soothe the nerves that I'd lost control of.

When I reached center-stage, bright lights blinded me from my surroundings, and I peered out into the audience to try to catch a glimpse of the judges' faces that would soon determine my future. All that I could see of them were four vaguely oval-shaped blobs in the ominous darkness.

"Are you Addison Parker?" a deep, male voice boomed from the darkness.

"Ye—" I cleared the lump that had managed to lodge itself in my throat and tried again. "Yes sir. I'm Addison Parker."

"Okay, Addison. Blow us away," the stranger called from the audience.

//What is wrong with me? Why did in the world did I talk myself into doing this? Why did I ever think I could make it?// I asked myself. I waited for an answer telling me that I was wrong, that I shouldn’t be here, that I wasn’t good enough. The only reply I could come up with was //I can do this.//

And, suddenly, the truth of the situation hit me, knocking me breathless and taking away all of my fear like a strong wind blowing away colorful fall leaves. I went back to the memory I had recalled on the subway, becoming the intrepid, fervent girl I had been in Central Park six years ago. I really //could// do this. There was no reason that I couldn’t. Singing was my passion; it was what I was born to do and I strived to share my voice with the world.

I walked forward; my steps were sure and unwavering. When I was one pace away from the microphone, I carefully pulled it off of its stand and held it right below my chin, strong, renewed determination filling my soul.

I opened my mouth and… I soared.