Sandwich Shenanigans by Verity Weaver

Author:Verity Weaver
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUVENILE FICTION / Humorous Stories / Mysteries & Detective Stories / People & Places / United States / General
Publisher: North Star Editions
Published: 2019-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Deena, 8:20 a.m.

The first fact card was easy to spot: The famous Oscar statuette is 13.5 inches tall and weighs 8.5 pounds. It was right there on the bulletin board outside the performance hall, above the sign-up list for Wizard of Oz auditions, as if some of us might be Oscar winners too, one day. How amazing would that be? Maybe I’d give Ella a special mention in my acceptance speech.

And lastly, I’d like to thank Ella Foot, for her endless put-downs when we were at school together. I still remember the time she told me I’d never get the main part in our school play because I was too much of a tomboy and that I looked more like the Tin Man with my short hair than Dorothy. But her nasty comments made me more determined than ever. I decided to prove that acting’s not about looks and outfits—it’s about talent and hard work. It’s that same determination that’s got me where I am today. I might not be standing up here with this lovely Oscar if it wasn’t for the likes of Ms. Foot. Thank you, Ella!

I could already hear the applause ringing in my ears . . . and then my gaze dropped down to the sheet below and the clapping faded away to nothing. I’d been the first person to sign up for Dorothy (the first person to sign up for any of the parts, for that matter), but Ella had squeezed her name into the gap ahead of mine, the last few letters of “Foot” covering over the start of “Deena” in bright-pink pen. I felt a familiar burst of annoyance as I stood there staring at it, my Oscar-winning daydream popping like an over-inflated balloon. What did it matter where anyone’s name came on the list? It was only a stupid sign-up sheet. Why did Ella always have to make everything into a competition? My long legs make me so much faster at front crawl . . . my lunch looks so much tastier than yours . . . my mean streak makes me ten times as horrible as you . . . Mind you, the other students in Miss Patterson’s class were almost as bad, gloating like mad when they beat us at sports or spelling bees, or simply just nabbing the best seats in the cafeteria.

I skimmed down the list, spotting lots of familiar names from past productions. Sam was down for the role of Scarecrow. I knew he’d be brilliant at the part (he was even better at acting than he was at sandwich-making), and rehearsals would be doubly fun if I got to play Dorothy next to him. He’d have to beat Toby Fishwick first, though. Toby was another of the we’re-better-than-you kids in Miss Patterson’s class, and he and Sam always seemed to go for the same role, no matter what the play was. Last year, it was a musical production of The Toys that Talked, and

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