Donut Go Breaking My Heart Page 3

  “No small task, let me tell you.” Phoebe groaned, redoing her tangled auburn topknot. Phoebe was one of the lighting techs for drama club, and the combat boots she wore every day were the perfect symbol of her no-nonsense persona. She had a dry, sometimes cutting sense of humor that I loved, mostly because her jokes were never directed at me.

  Val, the cheeriest of our bunch with her glee club voice and Disney princess optimism, giggled.

  “Hey. Fifteen minutes to pick an outfit is fast for me!” Kiri said. “Besides”—she grinned at me—“nothing could put me in a bad mood today.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Kiri’s the luckiest girl in our entire school, that’s what!” Val cried, her tone tinged with jealousy. “Cabe Sadler’s in her history class!”

  “That’s not all, either.” Kiri smiled into her can of seltzer. “Mr. Tambe made us partners for the Famous People from History project.” Kiri gripped my hand, her eyes huge with excitement. “I’m going to spend so much time with him working on it! And if I get the part in Donut Go Breaking My Heart, I’ll see him even more!”

  “That’s great,” I said, wanting to be genuinely happy for her. Instead, I wondered how much more Cabe-mania I’d have to deal with now. I took a deep breath. Before Kiri totally fell in love with Cabe, shouldn’t I warn her what he was really like? “But, Kiri—”

  “Oh no.” Kiri’s smile sagged. “You’re starting with your ‘buts.’ That’s never good.” Kiri was always telling me that I burst her bubbles with all my hesitating and but-ing. “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

  Phoebe gave me an acerbic glance. “Be happy for her, Sheyda, so she’ll quit talking about him. Please. For my sake, at least.”

  I laughed. “Okay. Just be careful, that’s all. I have a feeling the real-life Cabe is different from the big-screen one.”

  “You did it anyway. You pulled an Eeyore.” Kiri dropped her forehead to the table while Val shot me a scolding look. Then Kiri’s head sprang back up, her eyes bright. “You know what? You’re right. He is going to be different in real life. He’s going to be even better.”

  * * *

  A few hours later, Mrs. Seng, Kiri, and I stepped out of the elevator at the Soho Grand Hotel. The auditions were being held in a suite on the top floor, and the poshness of the suite’s foyer alone was enough to give me the jitters. People scurried around with cameras, piles of clothing, and lighting equipment while we watched in amazement.

  “It’s fantastic, isn’t it?” Kiri said.

  Nerve-racking was more like it.

  A frazzled-looking assistant balancing two trays of coffees ushered us into a sitting room where a dozen other girls waited to audition. Within minutes, Simeon breezed in, greeting everyone by handing out copies of the script.

  “Here’s what you need to know about this movie,” he said. “Cabe plays Prince Dalton of a fictional European country named Atlantia. Fed up with his royal duties, he runs away to Manhattan and poses as a commoner. He takes a job at a donut shop. A series of hilarious mishaps ensue as Prince Dalton falls for his love interest, Tia. Eventually he has to reveal his true identity and return to royal life, having grown sager and kinder, yada yada … and henceforth everyone lives in eternal bliss. Got it?”

  There were nods, and Simeon gave a golf-clap. “Good. Now. You’ll be auditioning for the part of Tia’s cousin Marie—a savvy but shy girl who’s the key to revealing Prince Dalton’s true identity to Tia. She works at Doughlicious with Dalton, and she instantly notices that something about him is amiss.” He scanned the room. “You’ll be reading from page fifty of the script. Take a few minutes to study the lines before we call you in.”

  Kiri pored over the lines. “Should I read my lines in a snarky way? What do you think?”

  “Just read it like yourself,” I suggested, not having a clue if that was sound advice or not.

  Mrs. Seng harrumphed beside us. “Foolishness. Why I agreed to bring you here is beyond me.”

  “Don’t be grumpy, Mrs. Seng,” I said. I pulled a slip of paper from my pocket and handed it to her. “I found a new donut recipe for us to try. Raspberry-Cheesecake Surprise. We could tweak it by adding a lemon glaze on top.”

  “Thanks, Sheyda.” She gave me a grateful look. “At least your head is in the right place.”

  “Mom—” Kiri started, but then the director’s assistant called her name. Kiri instantly pulled me from my chair, too. “You’re coming with me,” she hissed. Before I could protest, Kiri dragged me through the door into the much larger audition room.

  There was an open space in the middle, where an X was marked in blue duct tape on the floor. Jillian, Simeon, and Gerard—the threesome I’d met at Doughlicious—were all seated on the couches with tablets and coffees in hand. There were several other people I didn’t recognize, but I assumed they also worked for Everest Movie Studio.

  My stomach flipped. Cabe was here, too, slouched in an armchair. He didn’t even look up from his phone. Nothing about his demeanor said that he wanted to be at these auditions or that he was even paying attention.

  “I’m sorry, but we can only audition you one at a time,” Jillian said, nodding toward me.

  “Oh no!” My cheeks flamed, and Cabe’s eyes shot up. “I’m, um, here for moral support.”

  Jillian glanced at Cabe, as if awaiting approval. He frowned and gave a single nod.

  “You can stay,” Jillian said to me.

  Well, well, somebody’s got some serious pull around here, I thought. I pressed my back against the wall, trying to fade into the background, while Kiri beamed, awaiting instructions.

  “Okay, Kiri,” Simeon said. “Stand on that mark on the floor. We’ll take some quick headshots for our records, and then Cabe will join you for the reading.”

  “I’m going to read with him? Great! Really great!” Kiri flung her hair and jutted out her hip like she was posing.

  “Thanks,” Simeon said after Kiri had batted her eyelashes and pursed her lips for the camera. “Cabe, we’re ready for you now.” No response. “Cabe?”

  “Yup.” Cabe took his time setting down his phone. He moved to Kiri’s side, then added to Simeon, “Let’s get this over with.”

  Irritation broiled inside me. Cabe could at least be polite, even if he was bored.

  “Kiri, you can start from the top of the page,” Simeon instructed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Kiri nodded and began reading. “Listen, Dalton. I saw the way you looked at Tia just now. Something’s up.”

  Cabe recited the lines from memory. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, crinkling his brow in confusion.

  “Come on.” Kiri leaned toward him. She laid a hand on his arm. “You can tell me. I want to keep your secrets—”

  “Stop!” Jillian said, checking the script. “Kiri, it’s actually ‘I can keep a secret.’”

  Kiri giggled. “Oops. Can we start over?”

  “One more time,” Jillian said. “And maybe don’t touch his arm. Remember. You’re Tia’s cousin. You don’t have the crush on Prince Dalton. Tia does.”

  Kiri nodded and tried again. But I could see what Jillian meant. Kiri was coming off like she was flirting with Cabe (and my guess was that she was). After a few more minutes, Jillian held up her hand.

  “Thank you, Kiri. We’ve got what we need.”

  Kiri gave me a triumphant thumbs-up and sailed out of the room. I started for the door, but my foot caught on a cord and sent a lighting stand crashing to the floor.

  “Omigod, I’m so sorry,” I gushed, scrambling to right the light.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Simeon said, but Cabe was already beside me, picking up the light.

  “Just leave it,” he grumbled. What he really meant, though, was “leave.”

  I straightened, feeling something inside me snap. I’d had enough, and the words poured out before I could stop them. “Just so you know, that wasn’t on purpose. And neither were the donut
s yesterday or anything else you think I’ve done to you.” Omigod, what am I doing? the inner me screamed, Shut up! The outer me wasn’t listening, though. She kept right on going. “I’m a klutz, okay? That’s all. I don’t have some hidden agenda to sabotage you on social media. You may have legions of fans, but I’m not one of them!”

  I couldn’t be sure, but the shock in Cabe’s eyes looked genuine. For the first time since I’d met him, he seemed to be at a complete loss.

  Then I noticed the silence. Everyone in the room was frozen in place, mouths half-open, possibly afraid to so much as breathe. The reality of what I’d done dawned on me. I’d just told off Cabe Sadler in front of all these important film people. Not only that, but I’d probably just destroyed any chance Kiri had of getting the part. Oh. Crud.

  I glanced at the door. Kiri had already gone outside and missed the whole freak-out. “Um … sorry for the interruption everybody,” I stammered. “And just so you know, Kiri’s really talented. She was terrific, wasn’t she? Not anything like, um, me. She and Cabe would work well together.” More silence. “So don’t let this impact your decision about her, okay?” I paused, twisting my hands together nervously.

  Cabe opened his mouth, seemingly on the verge of saying something. Then he stopped, glancing at Simeon and the others.

  Simeon had this odd expression on his face that completely threw me. Why didn’t he look mad? Why was everyone staring at me but not calling security to have me removed from the building? Beyond flustered, I mumbled a hurried good-bye and scooted out of the room.

  Kiri was waiting for me, dying to know what I thought of her audition. I told her she was a natural. I didn’t tell her about my mega meltdown. If I’d blown her chances, she’d find out soon enough.

  * * *

  Kiri was still talking about the audition two hours later, during the late afternoon rush at Doughlicious. Business always picked up between four and six on weekdays. A lot of desperate nannies and parents brought kids in for snacks, and then there were the office workers who had to have their afternoon latte and donut.

  I was trying to remain upbeat, but reassuring Kiri that she was brilliantly talented was getting the teensiest bit tiresome. Still, she was always my biggest cheerleader when it came to my set design ideas. She’d be doing the same for me right now if I was the one in need of some confidence boosting. It was what best friends did.

  I was just handing the last three S’mores donuts to a frazzled au pair when Simeon walked into the shop. I elbowed Kiri.

  “Look who’s here,” I whispered. “Probably to tell you that you got the part!”

  “Omigod! How do I look?” She did a little feet-only happy dance behind the counter, where no one else could see. Then she coolly waved to Simeon.

  He gave a small bow. “Ladies.”

  I held my breath, and beside me, sensed Kiri doing the same. Simeon’s eyes settled on me.

  “Sheyda, do you have a second to talk?”

  I shot a confused look at Kiri, who looked equally bewildered.

  “Um, is this about the light I knocked over?” I asked Simeon. “If it’s broken, I—”

  “No, no, nothing like that.” Simeon grinned at me. “I’ve been sent here … to offer you the part of Marie in the movie.”

  I blinked, dumbfounded, and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “The role of Tia’s cousin. Marie? You were just at the audition a few hours ago?” He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for this to sink in.

  The audition? My heart slammed into my throat. “But,” I sputtered, “I didn’t audition. Kiri did.” I gave Kiri a pleading look, but she was staring, pale-faced.

  Simeon nodded gently at Kiri. “I’m sorry,” he said to her. “We all agreed that your audition had promise. If the role were for Dalton’s love interest. But that’s not the slant we’re looking for this time.”

  “Oh!” Kiri blushed. “His love interest,” she repeated, and I could almost see the wheels in her head whirring with renewed hope. “Well, that’s at least something, isn’t it?”

  “It’s great!” I said. “And now that you know what they liked …”

  “I can perfect my onscreen persona!” Kiri finished.

  Simeon turned back to me. “The rest of the auditions were canceled. It seems you’re the first and only choice.”

  My stomach knotted. My thoughts reeled. I sank into the nearest chair, speechless, as Kiri burst out laughing.

  “This is a joke, right?” Kiri said to Simeon. She glanced at me, probably expecting me to shout, “Gotcha!”

  “I—I …” I glanced at Simeon in desperation. This had to be a fluke.

  “Not a joke,” Simeon confirmed.

  “But Sheyda doesn’t act!” Kiri blurted. The good-sport grin she’d been wearing sank into disappointment. “She’d freeze up the second you put her in front of the camera.”

  I bristled, feeling a jolt of defensiveness. It was true; my greatest fear was being in the spotlight, whether that meant being called on in class or giving oral presentations. Still. It was the way Kiri said it, like it was an absurd idea, me acting. A small part of me wished I could prove her wrong.

  “Well, I saw something in that audition room when you were talking to Cabe,” Simeon said to me matter-of-factly. “That’s exactly the sort of charmingly witty feel we’re going for with Marie.”

  I thought back to my outburst with Cabe. “The thing is,” I began quietly, “I’m not normally so … outspoken. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes girl.”

  “Your protests are falling on deaf ears.” Simeon tilted his head, his shrewd gaze assessing me. “Besides, you have those fabulous big, dark eyes. Made for the big screen.”

  I blushed. “I don’t—”

  “And here’s the big perk,” Simeon said. He leaned close and told me the amount the studio would pay me for playing Marie.

  The number stopped me cold. It wasn’t enough to pay the entire tuition for the summer drama program, but it would cover the application fee plus supplies for my design model. Whatever I had left over I could give to my parents to put toward the tuition. Could I really pass up this offer if it would take some stress off Mom and Dad?

  I glanced at Kiri, and it was as if she’d been reading my mind. The disappointment on her face had given way to a struggling but supportive smile. She pulled me aside. “Take the part,” she said definitively. “This is a no-brainer. Think of what you could do with the money.”

  “I know. But … what about you? This is your dream role. I can’t take it from you—”

  “You heard Simeon. I’m not going to get the part anyway. Besides, now I can live vicariously through you.” Her giggle was strung too tight.

  “You won’t be upset?” If this made things weird between us, I’d never forgive myself.

  She shook her head. “Don’t worry. I’m already over it.” Then, seeing me waffling, she grabbed my shoulders and gave me a loving little shove toward Simeon. “Sheyda says yes. She’ll do it.”

  Simeon cocked one eyebrow. “Yes?”

  I mustered my courage, then nodded, agreeing to something I’d never in a million years imagined myself doing.

  Simeon clapped his hands. “A wallflower turned actress. Love it!” He patted my cheek. “Filming starts this Sunday. We’ll be doing all of your filming right here at Doughlicious. You’ll be marvelous. You’ll see.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said weakly, then listened, dazed, as Simeon explained the permission forms my parents would have to sign and the filming schedule. By the time he said good-bye and left the shop, the street outside had grown dark. When I finally became aware of my surroundings again, Mrs. Seng was at the counter, and Kiri was nowhere to be found.

  “I better get home,” I told Mrs. Seng, then stepped into the kitchen to grab my coat and bag. When I did, I heard muffled sniffles from the bathroom in the back.

  “Kiri?” I called through the bathroom door.

  “Yeah
?” Her voice sounded nasally, like she had a cold. Was she crying? My stomach sank.

  “Are you okay?”

  “’Course I am! I—I’m on Instagram. You know Mom hates that.” Her voice rose a notch, reaching toward cheer.

  I shifted from one foot to the other, hesitating. “So … we’re good? ’Cause I’m heading out and I just wanted to make sure—”

  “Sheyda! Go! Before Mom catches me slacking!”

  “Okay,” I said reluctantly. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  I walked out of the shop and turned toward home. My heart flip-flopped uneasily. What sort of movie mess had I gotten myself into?

  “You? Starring in a movie?” Mina fake-choked on her mouthful of tahdig. The crunchy, golden crust from the bottom of the rice pot was Mina’s favorite, and I was guessing Mom had served it tonight as a peace offering.

  I glanced sheepishly around the dinner table. Mom, Dad, and Mina were all staring openmouthed at me. I knew it was tough to believe, but did everyone have to react this way?

  “Well.” Mom smiled. “That’s wonderful news. And I’m glad you’re thinking ahead to the cost of drama camp.”

  Mina choked again. “Wait a sec. You’re actually going to let her do this?”

  That part was a surprise to me, too. I’d been half hoping that my parents would refuse to sign the permission forms Simeon had given me. Then I’d have an easy out. But here was Mom, giving me an instant blessing.

  Dad was nodding, too. “I don’t see any reason why Sheyda shouldn’t do it.” He looked at me. “Das xoš, aziz. Well done, darling. It will expand your horizons.”

  “Yes, and maybe embolden you,” Mom seconded.

  “Expand her horizons?” Mina dropped her spoon onto her plate with a clatter. “She’s going to be around a bunch of celebrities and filmmakers. Aren’t you afraid they’ll be bad influences on her? Or that she’ll fall behind in her schoolwork?”

  Mom pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Mina, please don’t start—”

  “But those were all of the reasons you told me I couldn’t go on the ski trip, remember?” Mina glared at me. “And I’m going with my friends. I heard Cabe Sadler flirts with every girl on his movie sets. And you’re worried about me?”