Comedy Girl Read Online Free PDF Page A

staring faces.
    â€œI finally came up with a fab idea,” Jazzy said. “I’m going to whistle the theme song from the Andy Griffith Show !”
    â€œI don’t think anyone’s ever done that at Mason High,” I said flatly. I looked down at my copy of King Lear .
    â€œYou mean it’s been done at other schools? Do you know how long it took me to think of that?” And seeing the King Lear , she wrote down, “Shakespearean monologue.”
    â€œI’m not looking for anyone to sing all of Les Mis ,” Mr. Janson declared, leaning on his desk, “but you have to do more than state your name. No less than three minutes and no more than five. We may discover the next Streisand or Brando. All I ask is that you remember me when you accept your Oscar.”
    What if I sang “Happy Birthday” off-key? What if my Shakespearean soliloquy sounded as dead as the old bard himself, and I humiliated myself in front of all the teachers, parents, jocks, snobs, coolheads? And Gavin! The terror sent my heart leaping up out of my chest, out through my throat, and pounding down the hallway.
    â€œI should have picked Sociology instead of Drama,” I mumbled, staring at the sign-up sheet. “Maybe Janson will accept a written essay!” I pressed the pen against my lips. “On the other hand…,” and I scribbled on the line beside my name.
    â€œI knew you’d come around. Let me see!”
    â€œI can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner!”
    Jazlyn’s mouth hung open. “‘A reading from the diary of Jazlyn Peters.’ You traitor! You’re still trying to get me back for the time I called you Shrimp!” She paused, confused. “But you’ve never seen my diary!”
    â€œI have too!”
    â€œYou sneak! I’ll rehide it.”
    â€œI’ll refind it!”
    â€œI’ll destroy it!”
    â€œI’ll speak from memory,” I threatened.
    Jazlyn quickly snatched back the sign-up sheet, crossed out my entry, and passed it across to Carl, a computer nerd.
    â€œI knew you’d see it my way,” I said.
    â€œWhat’s all that commotion?” Mr. Janson asked. “If you’re truly having a difficult time thinking of something to perform, Ms. Shapiro, I have a million ideas begging to be shown to adoring eyes.”
    I hid behind King Lear propped open in front of me and doodled a picture of Mr. Janson in a Dorothy costume, complete with red ruby slippers. “Remember, people, this is a performance class, and if you don’t have the passion to perform, you can take an F and be an usher.”
    An usher? I imagined tearing Gavin and Stinkface’s tickets, leading them to their seats, dusting off their chairs like a servant.
    â€œMs. Peters, I see you’ve written ‘Shakespearean monologue,’” Mr. Janson said, glancing at the sign-up sheet. “I must say, Jazzy, I’m quite impressed. Which one of the Bard’s old standards will you be bringing to life?”
    Jazzy proudly sat up. “ Romeo and Juliet . I’ll be doing Juliet’s balcony speech to a cardboard cutout of Leonardo DiCaprio!”
    The class snickered and rolled their eyes. Mr. Jansonlooked off dreamily into the distance and, with a wicked smile, exclaimed, “Brilliant!” He looked back at the list. “Let’s see, we have Mr. Reidel singing ‘Tonight’ from West Side Story and Mr. Davis reading Edgar Allan Poe’s ‘The Raven.’”
    I knew I must make a decision now—take home a talent show program with my name on it, or an usher’s badge with my name on it. “As for you, Ms. Shapiro, I’m very impressed!”
    I was puzzled. Impressed with what? I hadn’t written anything but the Jazlyn diary joke. And Jazzy had crossed it out—or had she written something over it?
    â€œClass—Trixie Shapiro will be performing stand-up