Wicked Normal by Lauren Courcelle

Author:Lauren Courcelle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: love, death, friends, school, magic, kidnapping, family, witchcraft, crystals, tarot
Publisher: Lauren Courcelle

chapter eighteen

How to Create a Scene

All weekend I was completely stumped as to what to write about for my first City Times article, until Monday when I finally conceived the perfect idea - the Christmas pageant! With all the excitement about my newspaper column, I had somehow completely spaced on the auditions being the Monday before Thanksgiving! Tryouts were after school in the gymnasium, with rehearsals every weekday beginning Tuesday, except for Thanksgiving Day.

Ms. Peyton stopped me as soon as I entered the gym. “Persephone Smith, there’s no need for you to come to auditions,” she snapped. “You won’t be cast in my show.”

“It’s not your show,” I argued, “It’s Saint Bart’s show.”

“You won’t be cast in MY show,” she repeated.

“I’m auditioning,” I announced.

“Actually, you’re not,” Ms. Peyton reminded, “You didn’t join my choir so you’re not going to be in my Christmas pageant.”

“Erin, are you still holding that over Persephone’s head?” Mr. Harper stood just inside the gym’s door. “If you would like me to get her mother, I surely can do that.”

“John, you will not threaten me in front of students,” Ms. Peyton replied.

“I would hardly constitute allowing a student’s mother to have a word with you as a threat,” Mr. Harper declared, holding his ground.

“Fine,” Ms. Peyton consented, “audition if you must, but you will not be cast.”

“Maybe I should summon the school board to watch the auditions, Erin?” Mr. Harper egged on.

“It’s not the school board’s decision, John,” Ms. Peyton insisted.

“But your job is,” Mr. Harper threatened.

“Fine,” Ms. Peyton snapped, “Persephone can audition, and good luck to her at getting a part!” She stormed off, sitting down in a seat in the front row of chairs.

“You know she won’t cast me,” I said to Mr. Harper.

“And you’ll expose her in the City Times for the fraud she is,” Mr. Harper projected. “You’re Saint Bart’s best singer, and you know it. If she doesn’t give you the lead, reflect on the experience in your article.”

“I could get in big trouble,” I hinted.

“You already will have not gotten the lead,” Mr. Harper encouraged. “What other trouble is there to get into?”

I decided right then and there that apparently Mr. Harper doesn’t know me very well. Where there was a grown-up in the wrong, and Ms. Peyton was definitely in the wrong, there was notoriously big trouble brewing for me. I am not someone who will risk my physical wellbeing to prove a point, but I definitely will verbally defend myself or my beliefs.

So did Ms. Peyton cast me in the play? Or did I have to assert myself through my newspaper article? I guess you’ll have to buy a copy of next Thursday’s City Times and read my article about Saint Bart’s Christmas pageant and find out for yourself.

* * * * * * * * * *

The ringing phone awakened my slumber, early in the morning of the first Thursday of December. It was Grampy and Grammy with congratulations to me for my first article in the

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