Addison Blakely: Confessions of A PK by Betsy St. Amant

Author:Betsy St. Amant [Amant, Betsy St.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781607427261
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2012-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

This is for a good cause! Do you people not even care?

Have you no respect?”

I winced at the frustration in Marta’s rising voice and stood, dropping my clipboard on the stage as I hurried around the heavy velvet curtain. Where was she—and more importantly, why was she yelling about pride and commitment? I stopped short stage left, where Marta actually stood on a cardboard box, hands on her hips as she lectured those poor souls brave enough to stick around and listen.

“This is your school. And if that doesn’t make you care, then what about the fact that all the funds received from this show are going to help kids learn how to read?” Marta pointed her finger at Jessica’s face, and to her credit, the girl didn’t even flinch. “You are supposed to be one of the strongest singers here, but instead of helping someone else, all you do is sing in front of the mirror. It is pathetic.”

Oh boy. She’d lost it. “Uh, Marta?” I tugged at her sleeve, but she batted me off. I glared at her, wishing I had the whistle Mrs. Lyons had stolen last week from Coach Thompson. That thing performed miracles when it came to redirecting attention.

“And you.” She swung her finger around to point at Tripp, who stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall by the electrical outlet. “You’re the best dancer here. Why aren’t you getting your team ready? Don’t think I didn’t see Michael’s last rehearsal. Your boys have a long way to go before opening night.”

Tripp straightened and opened his mouth to protest, but Marta wasn’t done. “You should all be helping each other, working together to put on a quality performance. Yet all you’re doing is parading around like every act is a solo act, and worse than that, leaving all the hard work to Addison and Mrs. Lyons. Guess what? This is a group project. You might flaunt your specific talent during your time slot, but the final product represents this entire school. You should all be helping make it the best it can be.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and I saw a hint of turquoise belt peeking from beneath the hem of her shirt. “You are all ridiculous.”

“Okay, show’s over, everyone.” I grabbed Marta’s arm and pulled her from her literal soapbox. “Back to rehearsal.”

The majority of the group eagerly dispersed, but Tripp lingered. “Hey, uh, Addison? Is there anything you need me to do before my time spot?”

I stared, my mouth open in what I’m sure was a totally unattractive way. Tripp Larson? Asking to help? After getting railed publicly by a foreign-exchange student? I glanced at Marta. “I think that belt has superpowers.”

Marta nudged me, and I turned back to Tripp. “Uh, I mean, yes. That’d be great. Just ask Mrs. Lyons what was next on my list and have at it.”

Tripp nodded, and I quickly called him back. “I didn’t check this off yet, but I already scanned the copy for the Foundation’s advertising.

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