Vanishing Acts Read Online Free PDF Page B

the brunch—and brunch as a category in general—a week later.
    I turned back to my dad. “Wait, did you say she was trying to move the location?”
    â€œYup. She wanted to get the entire production banned from Brooklyn.”
    I gasped. “Why would anyone do that?”
    â€œIf you lived on Second Street, you’d understand. They film things all the time there,” Mom said. “And it’s plenty inconvenient. Basically, they take over the entire block, roping off both sides so you can’t evenpark on your own street. Besides the noise, you have to deal with the bright lights, and sometimes they shoot in the middle of the night, making sleep impossible. That’s what Jenna says, anyway. We’re lucky we’ve never had to find out for ourselves.”
    My mom was right—no one had filmed anything on Garfield that I could remember, but I wished they would. It seemed so cool.
    â€œWho wouldn’t want to be inconvenienced if it meant possibly running into Seth Ryan?” I asked.
    â€œI think you have your answer in Jenna,” said my dad. “But you don’t need to worry about it, because she wasn’t able to stop them.”
    â€œGood,” I said. “Because they need extras, and I was hoping to sign up.”
    I pulled the release form out of my back pocket, unfolded it, and gave it to my dad.
    I’d decided that my friends were right—this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and it was worth juggling homework and dog walking for. Somehow I’d make it work. If I was allowed to, that is. I figured I had a better shot of getting permission from my dad, since he works in film. Kind of. He doesn’t do anything cool like make Seth Ryan movies—he just films documentaries: movies about stuff that’s true, which are very different from reality television (according to him).
    â€œLet me see that before you sign it,” said my mom, holding out her hand.
    â€œOh, I’m not planning on signing anything yet,” said my dad.
    â€œYou’re not?” I asked.
    Yes, this afternoon I wasn’t sure if I had time to be an extra, but now that my parents might not let me—suddenly it was all I wanted to do.
    â€œNot until we both take a good look at it.” My dad took his reading glasses out of his pocket and slipped them on. “This looks pretty standard,” he said after a few moments, handing it over to my mom. “I have no problem with it.”
    â€œWill you promise this won’t interfere with your schoolwork?” asked my mom, predictably.
    â€œIt won’t,” I replied with a sigh.
    â€œAnd what about your business?” she asked. “You did make a commitment. Lots of people depend on you.”
    â€œAnd animals do, too. I know that. There’s time for both. Anyway, how can I pass this up? How many times in my life will I get the chance to meet Seth Ryan?”
    My father laughed. “I know this is exciting, and hopefully it’ll be fun, too, but I don’t think you’re actually going to meet Seth Ryan. These superstars exist in a different reality. He’s not going to be hanging around the extras tent.”
    â€œI’ll get to stay in a tent? How cool!”
    â€œIt’s not actually a tent,” my dad said. “Just an expression.”
    â€œWell, it’s still cool,” I said. “Want me to do the dishes?”
    My mom stared at me. “You really want this, huh?” she asked.
    â€œMaybe,” I replied, standing up and grabbing her plate. “Or perhaps I’m just being
extra
helpful.”
    Back in my room that night, I studied Milo’s note. I was 90 percent sure he actually wanted to hang out, and there was only one way to find out for sure. I picked up the phone and started dialing his number. I made it about halfway through before freezing.
    Suddenly the image of Jasper Michaelson flashed into my mind. Jasper was a