Maeve on the Red Carpet (17 page)

The Madeline fame train rushed inside, with Maddie’s crew buzzing around her like a swarm of bumblebees. I tried to open my purse to get out my lip gloss and noticed my hands were shaking.

Take a deep breath
, I told myself. I slowly walked over to the bench outside of the theater to sit down and chill. How could I … how could
anyone
possibly compete with
that
? Maddie had a personal drama coach and a whole TEAM to help her look like Princess Sophia. And what did MKT have? Well, Mom, Sam, Dad, two adorable guinea pigs …
and a room full of very loyal and attentive stuffed animals. It would just have to do.

“Hey, Maeve, you pumped for the big day?”

I looked up. Apollo Aaron was bouncing down the street with three folding chairs slung over his shoulder. He was wearing his blue Dodgers hat backward with a few curls spilling out under the sides.
Gosh, he is cute!
I immediately pushed the thought out of my head though … Apollo was my friend.

I smiled weakly. “I think so, I guess.”

Apollo tapped his fist against mine. “Yo, you’re gonna rock out, Maeve! Feel good?”

As I was an actress, I acted brave for Apollo. “Totally!” I assured him. But as soon as he disappeared into the backstage of the Movie House, the only thing I “totally” felt was
totally
sick to my stomach.

I sat back on the bench and watched the cars whiz down Harvard Street. I liked how my curls blew against my cheek. It was nice and very peaceful. The bench was so soothing, maybe I could just lounge out there and skip the audition altogether.
Bad attitude, Maeve
, I scolded myself. I looked at my watch. It was time to go in, but now I was a little afraid. This was not like me … not like me at all.

“Hey, there’s my girl!” Dad greeted, poking his head out the door. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you said you were going to come in early and run lines with me?”

I turned to Dad—my face cursed with tragedy. “Oh, Dad, I completely forgot … I
was
here early!”

“And … what happened?”

I sighed. “Maddie happened. Did you see her limo?” I was using what Mom would call my woebegone voice. “She’s got an entourage, Dad. Like a real movie star. I’m talking makeup artist, hairdresser, drama coach, wardrobe … I’m toast!”

Dad grinned. “Now there’s my little drama queen!”

I stood up, pushed my purse up my arm, and placed my hands on my hips. “Hey!” I said, outraged.

“I mean that as the best of compliments,” Dad promised, putting his arm over my shoulder. “You don’t need an entourage to shine on stage. Remember—cream always rises, Maeve. It always rises.”

He looked at me, and I could see he really did believe in me. I held up my head and informed him, “That’s Princess Sophia, to you.”

I was practicing writing my autograph in the steam of the bathroom mirror. “Maeve Kaplan-Taylor,” I whispered to myself. It looked really fabulous in big, loopy script. There was no doubt about it—my audition that day had been a smashing success. It made me tingle all over just remembering it. The lines poured out of me so naturally, I felt like I really was Princess Sophia.

Knock, knock
.

The hairbrush dropped from my hand and clattered on the black-and-pink checkered tiles. “Don’t come in!” I shouted. I was in my pajamas and everything … but still, couldn’t a girl get a moment to herself?

Then it happened again.
Knock, knock, knock
.

There was only one person in my house who was rude enough to knock after you told him to stop. “I SAID don’t come in …
Sam
!”

“Maeve, this is an emergency. You need to report to
my room … STAT!” Sam commanded in a hushed voice. “Stat means now, by the way.”

I groaned and cracked the door open, expecting to see a camera poking in my face. But surprisingly, there was no camera. Sam was standing in the hall, holding a pair of binoculars, his little eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“You gotta hear this! Artemia and that Krupcake King dude are talking outside. It’s about
you
.” Sam grabbed my hand and began to drag me down the hall to his room.

“Me?” I gasped. “Wait, Sam, are they talking about the auditions?”

Sam bonked his forehead. “Well, duh!”

“SAM, why didn’t you say something?” I cried, sprinting past him and into his room to the one window that overlooked Harvard Street. His room was the complete opposite of my pink palace. It was filled with toy soldier armies positioned in front of castles and Lego planes that Sam had built himself.

“Careful, Maeve. Don’t mess up
anything
,” Sam warned.

“Relax. I’m trying my best here!” I had to tiptoe around all the little Army figures so I wouldn’t knock anything over. It was like being in a weird cartoon movie.

Sam and I sat on his bed and peered out the window. “Check it out,” Sam pointed and handed me the binoculars. I slowly rose up so my nose peeked right above the ledge and tilted the binoculars toward the street below. It was times like this that I felt lucky to live above the Movie House.

“Do be reasonable, Walter,” Artemia was pleading.

“I’m always reasonable!” Mr. Von Krupcake growled. “Is it not reasonable to expect that the most educated, most experienced, and most rigorously trained actress should play the lead role of the princess?”

“Madeline is an extraordinarily talented young woman,” Artemia agreed. “She is certainly destined for a successful career on Broadway.”

I lowered the binoculars and looked at Sam in horror.

“Just listen,” Sam hissed, jabbing me with his elbow. He propped the binoculars back up to my eyes.

“But this is film camp … not theater camp. Maeve Kaplan-Taylor’s audition translated very well to film. I think she should play the princess.” There it was. The nicest compliment I could have gotten from the world-famous Artemia Aaron. I gripped Sam’s arm and squealed. I was going to be Princess Sophia. My life was now fabulous beyond belief.

“Shh!” Sam reminded me that we were supposed to be spying. Spying meant not making a peep.

Below, Mr. Von Krupcake threw his arms in the air. He looked so mad, he was spitting. “Little Orphan Annie!? You can’t be serious, Artemia.”

“I
am
serious,” Artemia began in a strained voice. “I work for the New York Film Academy, and it is my job to do what’s best for the film. Madeline was very good. In fact, she would be my second choice for the role. But I have to be honest … Maeve is my first. She had the stronger audition for Princess Sophia.”

“Yes!” I mouthed to Sam. We quietly high-fived, and I began to spin around the room. I was just so happy I couldn’t help myself.

“I’m sorry, Artemia. I beg to disagree with you.” Mr. Von Krupcake’s voice suddenly sounded softer. I immediately leaped back on the bed to hear more. “I saw both of the girls audition, and I found my Maddie’s Princess Sophia much more compelling than Maeve’s. My Maddie was born to play the princess. She already had the crown.”

Artemia took a deep breath. “I told you. Madeline is a great actress. However—”

“I don’t think I’m making myself clear, Artemia. If you were to give the part of the princess to Maeve Kaplan-Taylor I would feel very, very disappointed. I would feel so disappointed that I’d probably have to ask Ross Taylor to pay me back for all those repairs I made to the Movie House.”

“Walter, you can’t do
that
. You told Ross that you were more than happy to make the repairs,” Artemia said in a stern voice. “You told him it was a
gift
.”

Walter scratched his chin. “Well, yes … I did, didn’t I? Good thing I never signed a contract. Hee hee, ha ha. Then I’d really be in trouble! I’ll have my lawyer straighten this whole mess out first thing tomorrow. I just hate dealing with money, don’t you? It can get so … unpleasant. Well, I’m sure Ross will understand the pain and torment I’m going through. After all, he is a father.”

“Please, Walter, you wouldn’t do that to Ross Taylor …”
Artemia sounded nervous at first then she folded her arms. “Wait a minute. Are you trying to blackmail me, Walter?”

“Of course not, darling. You cast whoever you like in the role of Sophia.”

Artemia nodded. “That’s right. Casting is my decision, and I work for the film camp … not
you
.”

“The repairs to the Movie House are between Ross and me. These are, after all, troubled times.” Mr. Von Krupcake’s voice got quiet. “Ever since the Atkins Diet, pastry sales just aren’t what they used to be. Oh well! Have a good night, Artemia. I look forward to seeing the cast list in the morning.” Mr. Von Krupcake tipped his feathered fedora hat. “Oh, and Artemia … I trust that you WILL make the right decision.” The Von Krupcakes’ limo pulled up to the curb. He got in, slammed the door, and the car zoomed away, leaving Artemia alone in the street.

Sam shook his head. “Now I see where Maddie gets her bad attitude. It must be genetic,” he murmured.

I think my brother was trying to be funny, but I couldn’t laugh. I swallowed. “Oh, Sam … this is terrible.”

“Tell me about it. You knocked over all my Star Wars dudes!” Sam pointed to a pile of toys that hadn’t survived my dancing episode.

I sighed and bent down to pick up the action figures. “Sam, this is serious. Mr. Von Krupcake could ruin the Movie House. What are we going to do?”

“Mom, wait up!” boomed a male voice. I jumped back on the bed and peered out the window. It was Apollo.
“This is totally bogus. See! What did I tell you about the Von Krupcakes?”

“Oh, Apollo,” Artemia put her arm around her son. “Look. This is a lot more complicated than it seems.”

“No way!” Apollo shook his head. “Come on, what’s wrong with that dude? He saw the auditions. Maeve was so much better than Maddie … it’s not even funny.”

“You’re right. Maeve was better. But Maddie was good too.”

Apollo looked at his mom. “So what’re you going to do?”

Artemia shrugged glumly. “I don’t know. If I give the part to Maeve … well … I’m afraid of what Mr. Von Krupcake might do.”

“Me too,” Apollo agreed. “For the Krupcake King he’s not very sweet, huh?”

“Very funny,” Artemia said in a serious tone. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to sleep on it.”

My heart was pounding like a drum. There it was—my dream come true—dangling right in front of me. But suddenly it didn’t seem all that important anymore. “Sam, I’ll be back.” I jumped off the bed and ran—actually more like hop-scotched really because of all the toys on the floor—out the room.

“Where are you going?” Sam shouted after me.

“If Mom asks, just tell her I went outside for a breath of fresh air,” I replied.

I pulled on my jacket as I scuttled down the stairs. I opened the front door with all my might and sprinted
down the block to the place where Apollo and Artemia were talking underneath a dim streetlamp. I knew what I had to do.

“Maeve!” Artemia seemed surprised to see me.

“Hey, y’all!” I tried to look cheerful, but it was pretty obvious that cheer was the last thing on anyone’s mind. “I sort of, kind of, accidentally overheard you guys talking …” I began shakily.

“What part of the talking?” asked Artemia.

“Um … all of it.”

Artemia shook her head. “You kids. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you!”

I looked up meekly. “I know, I know, but there’s something really important I have to tell you.”

Artemia and Apollo froze, waiting to hear what I had to say. Harvard Street was so still and empty—it looked like the set of a movie. Secretly, I loved being center stage … but it just wasn’t about that right now.

I took a deep breath. What I had to say next was not going to be easy. “You should let Madeline play Princess Sophia,” I told Artemia. My voice broke a little. “If you don’t … well … I just don’t want Mr. Von Krupcake to do anything mean to my dad. It’s just not worth it.”

Apollo looked at me. “What are you saying, Maeve?”

I sighed. “I know I auditioned for the part of Princess Sophia, but I’m bowing out.”

Artemia bent down with her hands on her knees. “Are you sure? Casting this movie is my decision, Maeve. Not Mr. Von Krupcake’s, you know.”

I nodded. “I’m sure.” I wiped away just one teeny tiny tear from my eye and put on my best smile. “It’s not that big of a deal. Someday, I’ll have plenty of starring roles.” I bit my lip and hoped that saying the words out loud would make them true, but inside I felt like my heart was breaking into pieces.

Apollo raised his hand like we were in school. “I have an idea,” he announced.

Artemia and I slowly turned and at the same time said, “Yeeeeeees?”

He sighed. “Okay, okay, just hear me out. I said it before and I’ll say it again, Maeve. I think you should think about trying out for Sufoo. I’m telling you, it’s a way more interesting part than the princess. Think about it—why would you want to be a boring old princess if you could be a weird kung fu fighting little maid?”

“Sometimes the supporting actor is the role that makes a movie outstanding,” Artemia added matter-of-factly.

I thought about this and then remembered something. “Like how Anita and Bernardo in
West Side Story
won the Oscars for Best Supporting Actress and Actor even though Tony and Maria didn’t?” I asked in one giant breath.

Apollo raised one eyebrow (
How do people do that?
) “Okay, since I’ve been in Boston, I’ve seen a lot of ducks. A LOT. And I gotta tell you … you’re one odd duck, Maeve Kaplan-Taylor. That’s a good thing, by the way,” Apollo assured me. I think he was impressed. See, when it comes to math facts and science facts … they are soooo
not my thing. But movie trivia? I happened to be an expert extraordinaire.

“Hold on though. Let’s just say I did want to try out for Sufoo. The auditions are over now … and I didn’t try out for that part. It doesn’t seem fair for me to get it.” What was wrong with me? First I was giving away Sophia and now it was Sufoo?
BE QUIET, MAEVE!
I scolded myself.

“You’re absolutely right, Maeve,” Artemia agreed. “It wouldn’t be fair to just give you the part. But … do you know what directors do when they want to see an actor try out for a different part?”