A Castle of Sand(102)

“Good. I told Adam to give you something easy. How are you feeling?”
“I just told you, I’m fine. How are you feeling?” I countered, glancing at my appearance in the mirror. Glamorous, I thought, sarcastically.#p#分页标题#e#
“Better. You shouldn’t have to be there much longer, Amy.”
“Take as long as you need, Dad,” I replied, leaning on the phone so I could straighten my apron. “Really. I’m ahead on school work, so it’s not a big deal.”
“Just be careful,” he told me again, and then bid me goodbye. However, not before making me promise to call him on my next break. I did, and hung up, putting the phone into my purse. If he was going to ring me several times, at least it would be back here.
“Do you want to make a prop?” Adam asked me, approaching with two grocery bags. I nodded, anything was better than cutting vegetables. Peeking inside, I found exactly what I was hoping for.
“We’re making fake blood!”
Adam laughed at my delight. “Yes. There’s an accident scene in one of the freshman classes, so they need a lot of fake blood. But you’ve gotta play with it a bit. It’s got to look real, but thinner, be easily wiped off, because in the next scene, they are fine.”
“Right.” I nodded, my mind already turning. Fake blood was easy: corn syrup, food coloring and water. I was already thinking that making it with ice-cubes instead of hot water would keep it thinner and easier to wipe off, without losing its realism.
I set right to work, mixing, stirring and testing. I could only imagine the scenarios in my head for what they would need it for; the creativity that required playing injured. Perhaps the actor would have to fake cry? That was my favorite thing to learn how to do: I had practiced in front of my bedroom mirrors for weeks before I learned how to make tears come on cue. I had been so excited that I almost cried for real. Of course, I thought sadly as I stirred a bubbling potful of fake blood, that was for fun. They need this for real. Lucky.
I had become so lost in my own thoughts that I barely noticed the hours slip by. But when my stomach grumbled, I was surprised to look up at the clock and find it was 12:50pm. Perfect, I thought. I had brought a sandwich and could eat it in the back of the theater. They were rehearsing act one of their production in there this afternoon, and I couldn’t wait to watch it with full lighting.
“LUNCH!” I called to Adam. “Oh, and I think the blood’s ready. Worthy of any vampire.” I grinned, pulling the spoon out to show him the consistency. He raised an eyebrow, coming over to test it on the inside of his wrist.
“Hey, that’s not bad,” he replied, nodding. “You want me to send this over?”
“Sure, just let it cool, but I think it’s done.” I replied, pulling off my apron and wiping my hands on it. It certainly looked like blood, even as it dried, darker than when it was wet. “See you after lunch.”
“Call your father!” he called after me, and I turned, giving him a thumbs up, before heading into the change room.
I texted Dad this time, quickly, as I hurried down the halls. I didn’t want to miss the start of the show, and my sandwich was finished before I had even entered the next building.
On lunch. Going to read a book. I wrote. It was a lame excuse, but he would believe it. I always had my nose in a book, what else was there to do at home? I put my phone away, rounding the corner, attempting to slip into the hall quietly. I did not expect what I was met with.
There were loud voices coming from the hallway. It was impossible to make out individual words in the din. There were at least a hundred girls, maybe more, in a queue that snaked around the hallway and into the next one.
I stopped short before I almost ran into somebody. This had happened before, when I was trying to watch a show. They sometimes invited neighboring schools to watch dress rehearsals, various young drama classes and such. These girls must be from the girls’ school on the south side of town. All of them were perfect; tall, thin and beautiful; the type that a private school usually attracts. I immediately felt inadequate, with my thrift store clothes, and hair a mess, not wearing a scrap of makeup.
Self-consciously, I attempted to pull my hair back into a bun, and prayed it would stay that way. I moved past the girls, who were standing in single file. I figured if they were all from one school, they had to stay together, and I could slip past them and get a good seat before they were all gone.
There was a commotion up front and I knew who it was before I even looked up. Liam. Escorted as usual by his entourage, I was surprised to also find a crowd of media. That hadn’t happened here in a while and I assumed they had given up on him. But here they were, squawking, cameras flashing, as if he hadn’t ever been away from Hollywood at all.