The Hanging Hill

19

“Have you memorized your lines, Derek?”

“No. Not completely.”

“What’s taking you so long?”

“I just got the script yesterday, Mom.”

“And?”

Derek Stone hung his head. He and his mother were striding across the carpeted lobby of the Hanging Hill Playhouse, on their way to rehearsal room A for the first read-through and table meeting.

Derek didn’t want to be here.

He couldn’t sing. In fact, he scared the neighbor’s pets when he tried. Yes, driving around in a chauffeured limousine was fun but what he really wanted was to go home to Marina del Rey so he could race his remote control monster truck up and down the driveway some more.

“Chin up,” said his mother. “You’re a star, Derek. Act like one. Stop slouching.”

Derek did as he was told. He held himself erect and moved swiftly. He smiled and nodded at everyone they passed. He even tucked one hand into the side pocket of his blazer while letting his other arm swing freely at his side. He’d seen a British prince walk that way once on TV. It looked suave.

Derek Stone would make his mother happy and try to act like a great actor.

He just wished he really were one.

It would make all the pretending so much easier.