Outtakes Of A Walking Mistake Read Online Free PDF

petty, but God I want that warmth, that boyfriend warmth to coat my heart so much; I feel desperate enough to pay for it. “All right, enough! If you sit down, I’ll let you hold my hand,” she offers, plea-bargaining with me. Then grabbing my hand, she pulls me down on the couch, allowing me time to sulk. “You’re not still mad about Eric, are you?”
    No, I’m mad that I’ve never been kissed.
    I’m mad that you have.
    I’m mad that I only get romanced through the television.
    I’m mad that your life is better than television.
    Taking the cowardly role, I wipe my eyes and lie about what is truly bothering me. “It’s stupid. I’m not mad. I’m just nervous about my audition tomorrow.”
    “What? You’re auditioning for that film thing at school?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Awesome!” Jenny yells.
    “Yeah, it would be, except I’ve never acted before.”
    “Please, you act all the time. Take right now for instance. Right now you’re acting like a tart.”
    “Don’t start,” I say, elbowing her as the movie fills the room with sound. Placing my head on her shoulder, I tighten my grip on her hand and whisper thanks. In return she lets out a sudden gasp, like she’s not ready for this type of intimacy, or maybe she just soiled her panties. There’s no telling what’s going on with Jenny, ever.
    “OH, I GET IT. I know why you’re mad,” she announces.
    I give her a curious look. “You do?”
    She mutes the TV with the controller. “Of course! I might be blonde, but I’m not retarded. The answer is yes, I’ll help you.”
    Help, who said anything about help?
    “But....”
    “Oh hush. I’ll go with you to your audition tomorrow. You don’t have to ask twice.” Ask twice? I don’t remember asking once. “That’s what best friends are for!”

Scene 4
    This is Jenny’s idea of help….
    The next day, minutes prior to my audition after school, she shows up to inform me that she has a belly full of cheap wine and a body made for sin. “Getting drunk brings out my creative side,” she laughs. “Don’t be mad.”
    Me, I can’t believe she’s doing this. Right when I need her most she’s spiraling out of control, but this is my typical Jenny: mixing alcohol with her meds just so she can soak up the spotlight. “What? Are you ignoring me?” she asks. We’re seated side by side on a raggedy black velvet couch in the theater green room and she wants to know if I’m ignoring her. For the love of god, I wish I could! “You need to be nice to me. I’m just here to help.” Purring, she blows hot air in my ear. “Now be honest, Bub. Do you really want a part?” Sliding her hand under my butt, she pinches me.
    “Jenny, stop!”
    “Listen, as an actor, you need to take risks,” she says. I’m scared to ask what type of risks she means. The last time Jenny spoke of risks she told me about the night she played Spin The Bottle with some girlfriends and her dad. “Well, do you want a part or not?” she says, clawing my butt with her nails.
    I let out a yelp. “Jenny!”
    “Well, don’t yell at me. It’s your fault I’m drunk.”
    “Huh?”
    “I stole the wine out of your fridge last night. And you shouldn’t keep alcohol lying around. It could be dangerous.”
    “That wine is for dad’s secret sauce.”
    “Well, I guess the secret’s out.” She giggles, kicking the artsy-fartsy magazines off the brown beanbag she’s using as a footrest. “Oops!”
    I’m so mad I get up and pace around the room. I’m nervous enough about the audition; the last thing I need is having Jenny mess things up. Yet then again, I’m the moron who granted her permission to be here, so I suppose I asked for this.
    In an attempt to reduce my blood pressure, I avoid eye contact with Jenny by eyeing a stack of cardboard boxes overflowing with Victorian-era wigs, dirty wing-tipped shoes, and other props used for past shows. On the far side of the room, beyond a dusty desk covered with hammers and nails, I