Carter's Big Break by Brent Crawford

Author:Brent Crawford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Young Adult
Publisher: Disney Publishing Worldwide

14. ACTION!

It’s technically morning when I take a fast freezing-cold shower and ride out of the driveway at five fifteen a.m. I guess nobody told the sun I was getting up this early. It’s still pitch-black when I take the shortcut behind Pizza Barn, and I decide not to take the jump. I wish I’d been able to sleep more, but I was just too fired up. This is probably why actors get into drugs. One pill to sleep, one to wake up, one to unwind, one to laugh, one to cry, and then you die on the toilet when you’re thirty. If they have any Cokes on the set, I’ll probably slam one. Caffeine was probably Heath Ledger’s gateway, too.

The world is orange when I roll up to the set . . . fifteen minutes early! The mansion is surrounded by trucks and RVs. The house isn’t nearly as scary with all of these people bustling around. The crew guys are setting up lights and running wires into the basement as if they don’t mind monsters or rats. I ride up and give a nod to the guy I stole the sandwich from. He’s plugging cables into a generator and doesn’t return the nod, so I just keep looking for the Cokes.

I’m warming up my voice and stretching, because that’s what actors do, when a Merrian cop car pulls into the gravel driveway. I recognize the guy from the D.A.R.E. program at my school, but I’m already so into character that I take off running. The cop must be perplexed as to why I did that, because he grabs his billy club and hops out of the car.

In a deep cop voice he yells, “HEY!!!” and the entire crew stops what they’re doing, except me. I just keep running.

After ducking behind the production trailer, I’m able to calm down for a second and ask myself, “What the hell are you doing, you dumbass?”

The cop is jogging toward me when I step out from behind the RV, throw my hands up, and say, “Sorry about that, dude, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m just trying to get into—”

He interrupts. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I smile with pride and reply, “Well, I-I-I’m starrin’ in this movie.”

He puts his club in its holster and laughs. “Yeah, me too.”

“Really?” I ask. (I’ve read the script a hundred times— could I have missed a cop character?)

“Yeah, I’m playing the police officer.”

“Huh? I didn’t even realize—”

He interrupts me again. “My first line is: ‘This is a closed set, boy.’ And then I say, ‘Get the hell out of here!’”

“Man, I just don’t remember—”

He barks, “Beat it, before I cuff and stuff your ass!”

Being a movie star doesn’t give you as much clout as I’d hoped. “I-I-I’m the star of this movie . . . seriously.”

“Sure ya are,” he says, marching toward me. “Two choices! Go home, or go to jail.”

I back away from him and stutter, “D-Dude, dude . . . okay,

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