Drama Queen Read online

  Chapter Four

  Bubble-Gum Ice Cream

  Dear Diario,

  It’s been a loooooooooong month. We have drama class twice a week, and I still can’t decide if I like it. Yesterday, Ms. Tinkle told us that we are going to have to audition for the class play. “Audition” means “try out.” I’ve been to soccer tryouts, so hopefully this won’t be too hard.

  The play is called Forest Gifts and is about the creatures that live in the woods—animals and fairies. I never liked fairies much—what do they do besides be tiny and fly around, anyway?

  Shalom,

  Lola Levine

  “Guess what, Lola?” my brother says on Saturday morning. “Mira is coming over today!” Mira is really sweet, even if her older sister is Alyssa Goldstein.

  “What are you guys going to do?” I ask Ben.

  “Mom’s taking us to the park and Ice Cream Palace!” Ben says. Ice Cream Palace has about three zillion flavors of ice cream—it’s the best ice cream in town, in my opinion.

  “Lucky!” I tell Ben, but I’m not too jealous, because I’m going to spend the morning painting with Dad.

  “Ready to create?” Dad asks.

  “Yes!” I say, and we walk out to his studio in the backyard.

  When I come out of Dad’s studio a long time later, I see Ben and Mira in the backyard. I notice that Ben’s and Mira’s lips are… blue.

  “Blee blot blubble blum blice bleam!” Ben says, his mouth full of chewing gum.

  “You got bubble-gum ice cream?” I say.

  “Blee blar blaving bla blubble blowing blontest!” says Mira.

  “Have fun,” I say, “and let the biggest bubble win!”

  I know I need to work on my audition, but first I need Mom’s advice.

  “Mom,” I say. “I need help.”

  “With what?” Mom asks.

  “My audition for Ms. Tinkle. We have two minutes to audition with a song, dance, or monologue. Ms. Tinkle said a monologue is the expression of a character’s mental thoughts.”

  “Aren’t all thoughts mental?” Mom laughs.

  “I said the very same thing, but she told me not to interrupt. She said we can choose our own characters or she’ll give us a monologue to read. What should I do?”

  “What do you want to do?” asks Mom.

  “Mom,” I say. “Why do you always answer my questions with another question?”

  “Because I think you’re pretty smart,” Mom says with a smile, “and I like to hear your answers.”

  “Well, I don’t really know how to dance, and I’m not used to singing, but I have a lot of mental thoughts,” I say.

  “Yes,” Mom says, “but you’re supposed to be a character, not yourself, right?”

  “Right,” I say. “So what character should I be?”

  “How about another famous Dolores, like Dolores Huerta?”

  “That’s a great idea!” I tell Mom. Dolores Huerta was a leader who helped farmworkers in California—I learned about her from Ms. Garcia. “Didn’t Dolores Huerta always say ‘¡Sí, se puede!’—‘Yes, we can!’—to workers trying to make their jobs better?”

  “Yes, she did,” Mom says.

  “I’m going to be Dolores Huerta! I’m going to start working on my monologue right now—thanks, Mom!” I say, and give her a hug. I start up the stairs, where Ben nearly knocks me over.

  “Lola! I need your help,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to his room.

  “Where’s Mira?” I ask.

  “Shhhhhhhhhhh!” he says.

  “Why are you shushing me?”

  “Because I’m in trouble,” says Ben.

  “What did you do?” I say. I see Mira sitting on the floor of Ben’s room, playing with his Legos. Oh no.

  “Hi, Lola!” Mira says with a smile. I guess she doesn’t realize that she’s missing a great big chunk of hair on the side of her head. “I won the bubble-gum blowing contest, Lola! But I got my bubble gum stuck in my hair, so Ben cut it out.”

  “Wow,” I say, but I’m looking at the space where a chunk of hair is… missing.

  “Can you fix it?” whispers Ben.

  “Hmmmmm,” I say. “I guess I can try.” But I’m a little worried. The last time I tried to cut hair, it was my own, and Mom wasn’t too happy about it. I liked the way my spiky hair looked, but I sure didn’t like being teased about it. I go get a brush and some rubber bands and ribbons and try to find a hairstyle that covers Mira’s bald patch. It’s not working, but Mira likes the ponytails I’ve put all over her head.

  “Maybe we can paint it,” I say.

  “Yes!” says Josh.

  “I like purple!” says Mira, but as soon as I’m done mixing up the color, we hear Mom’s voice.

  “Ben! Mira! Come downstairs. Mrs. Goldstein is here to pick up Mira.”

  I feel like hiding under my bed, but instead I walk downstairs with Mira and Ben. I’ve never met Mrs. Goldstein, but I’m not surprised when I do.

  “Mira!” she says. “What happened to your beautiful hair?!” She puts her hands on her hips and looks just like Alyssa when she’s mad. Mira must be more like Mr. Goldstein.

  “It’s still beautiful,” I say, trying to help. “There’s just less of it.”

  Ben explains what happened and says he’s super sorry. Mom apologizes, too, and offers to take Mira to the hairdresser, but Mrs. Goldstein says, “No, thank you. It’s time to go, Mira.”

  “But I want to stay,” says Mira.

  “You can come back again soon,” says Mom, smiling at Mira.

  “We’ll see,” says Mrs. Goldstein, and she and Mira are out the door.

  “What is it with you two and scissors?” Mom asks with a sigh.

  Ben is upset for the rest of the weekend. I know this because Sunday is sunny and nice, and Ben is sitting inside on the couch wearing his paint goggles and his soccer mouth guard. I decide to cheer him up with a cat joke.

  “Ben, why was the kitty so grumpy?” I ask.

  Ben shrugs.

  “Because he was in a bad mewd,” I say, trying to get Ben to laugh.

  He just takes out his mouth guard and says, “I’m in a bad mewd, too.”

  On Monday morning, Ben and I run into Alyssa and Mira on the way into school. Mira’s hair is pretty much gone. She has a super-short cut, but at least now everything is the same length as the part Ben cut off.

  “Mira!” Ben says. “You look cool!” Then he asks, “Can I touch your head?”

  “Sure,” Mira says, but Alyssa grabs her sister’s hand and pulls.

  “Come on, Mira, we’re leaving.”

  “It was an accident!” I yell to Alyssa, just in time for Principal Blot to hear me as she walks out of her office.

  “Lola,” she says, “must you always be so loud?” That’s me, I think, Lola the Loud.

  Chapter Five

  Auditions

  The rest of the week I spend lots of time writing and practicing my Dolores Huerta monologue. At night, I practice in front of my parents.

  “My name is Dolores Huerta, and I work for what is right.

  I use my words to organize and fight.

  I believe in the people who work in the fields

  And bring food to our table each night.

  They should be safe and make enough to live—

  We should thank them for all they give.

  When people think we can’t win, I just say, ‘¡Sí, se puede!’—‘Yes, we can!’

  And send my message to every child, woman, and man.”

  “It’s awesome!” says Dad as I take a bow.

  “Wow!” says Mom. “I just love your rhymes, my sweet Lola. You have a way with words.”

  “Just like her mom,” says Dad, giving Mom a kiss on the cheek. I sure hope he’s right.

  Dear Diario,

  Tomorrow is the audition for Forest Gifts, and I’m really excited about it! I just know it’s going to go great. The monkeys in my mind aren’t swinging from trees, they
are up onstage, taking a bow!

  Shalom,

  Lola Levine

  On the day of the audition, I wear my lucky shirt, which says I’M THE REASON YOUR COACH MAKES YOU PRACTICE SO MUCH. It has my soccer number on the back—1. I watch as the other students stand at the front of the gym and take their turn. Makayla is dressed head to toe in pink, and she dances and sings and twirls and swirls until I’m dizzy just looking at her.

  Alyssa wears fairy wings while she gives her monologue. She says she’s Ariel, but not the mermaid. She’s Ariel, a fairy from Shakespeare. Ms. Tinkle claps very loudly after Alyssa’s audition and tells us we should all know who Shakespeare is.

  “He’s the greatest dramatist of all time,” she says with a tinkle of her bracelets.

  “I thought he wrote plays,” I say.

  “That’s the same thing, Lola!” Makayla says with a smirk.

  Next it’s Josh’s turn. He doesn’t have anything prepared, so Ms. Tinkle hands him a monologue. I cross my fingers that he does okay. He doesn’t look too nervous, though.

  “Go, Josh!” I say, but Ms. Tinkle shushes me. Then he starts to read:

  “I am the King of the Forest, mighty and brave.

  With my queen I protect and save.

  Join us for this magical forest tale,

  And through fairy dreams we will sail.

  Learn about all of nature’s gifts

  As four seasons pass and shift.”

  Josh’s voice starts out a little quiet, but then he gets louder and better, and when he finishes, at first no one says anything. Then he takes a big, dramatic bow, and everyone claps. Loudly.

  “You did great, Josh!” I say when he walks back to the group.

  “Thanks, Lola,” Josh says, giving me a high five.

  We watch the other tryouts, and then Ms. Tinkle calls my name. As I walk up to the stage, I start feeling kind of weird and hot. My heart feels like it’s trying to thump out of my chest, and when I turn to face everyone, I freeze.

  “Go ahead, Lola,” Ms. Tinkle says.

  “My name is…,” I say, but all of a sudden I can’t remember who I’m supposed to be! I feel a drip down my back—I’m sweating like I’ve just played a whole game of soccer.

  “My name is…,” I say again, and I just can’t think.

  Ms. Tinkle smiles at me and says, “It’s okay, Lola, we all forget our lines sometimes. Would you like more time?”

  All I really want to do is get down off the stage, so I say, “No, thank you.” And I walk back down to where the rest of the class is standing. I think that even Alyssa and Makayla feel sorry for me, because they don’t whisper one word.

  “Olivia Lopez!” Ms. Tinkle says, and luckily, the class turns to look at her.

  “Forget about it, Lola,” Josh says when the bell rings for recess. “Let’s go play soccer.”

  “Okay,” I say, but I can’t even pretend to smile. At least I don’t cry until I get home, when Mom’s arms are wrapped around me tight.

  The next day, Ms. Tinkle posts the cast list on the bulletin board outside the gym just before lunch.

  “Remember,” she says as we all crowd around the list, “a great drama teacher once said, ‘There are no small parts, only small actors.’”

  I stop reading right there. Squirrel #2? What kind of role is that? I run outside and keep running around the playground until I hear the bell. I think about my audition and how I froze and forgot my lines, and I feel even worse. Mom called it stage fright and said that everyone has it once in a while, but I’m no scaredy-cat!

  There’s only one thing that will make me feel better, so I find Josh after school.

  “Want to go to the park and play soccer?”

  “I can’t today, Lola,” he says, looking away.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “Because he’s rehearsing the King and Queen of the Forest scenes with me,” Alyssa says with her usual smirk.

  “Okay,” I say, hoping I won’t cry before I see Mom in the car line. Instead of crying, though, I decide to write to Grandma Levine. As soon as I get home, I write my letter.

  Dear Bubbe:

  How are you doing over there in Florida? Is it sunny and nice? Have you seen any turtles on the beach?

  I am okay. Well, actually, I’m not okay at all. I’m in a play, but I don’t have any words to act. I am a squirrel, and not even Squirrel #1. I am Squirrel #2, which means all I get to do is carry the nuts to the King and Queen of the Forest. At least I don’t have any lines to forget.

  All I have to say about that is double cow barn, you know, because I’m not supposed to say double darn.

  I miss you.

  Love and shalom and a great big hug,

  Lola Levine, Squirrel (#2)

  Chapter Six

  The Big Surprise

  The days pass slowly. We have play rehearsal three days a week now, and I get to watch Josh and Alyssa on the thrones that I helped decorate. I feel really grumpy and jealous, but I do have fun painting sets, and I like my fluffy, furry squirrel costume. It’s brown and soft and matches the color of my hair.

  Finally, the weekend of the play comes. Our performance will be Saturday night, and on Friday, Mom, Dad, Ben, and I have dinner together. After dinner, Mom makes us batidos de plátano, banana shakes. My mom’s banana shakes are so yummy. She just puts milk, bananas, ice, and cinnamon in the blender, and we have a special dessert! While we slurp, I ask Ben how Mira is doing.

  “Bad,” Ben says. “People keep telling her she looks like a boy because her hair is so short.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” I say, running my hands through my own shortish hair and looking at Ben’s and Dad’s ponytails. “Boys and girls should look however they want!”

  “I agree,” says Dad.

  “Me too,” says Mom, even though her hair goes all the way down to her waist.

  Riiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiiiiing!

  “I wonder who it is,” Mom says, sipping her shake.

  Riiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiing!

  “It could be important,” Dad says, and picks up the phone. “Oh, hi! Mom, how are you?… You want to talk to Lola? She’s right here.”

  “Bubbe!” I say. She must have gotten my letter. “Yeah! I was wondering when you would call.”

  “How’s my little squirrel?” she asks.

  “Much better now!” I say.

  Just then, the doorbell rings.

  “I think you should answer the door,” Bubbe says.

  “Wow, Bubbe,” I say, “you have good ears if you can hear the doorbell over the phone!” I walk over to answer the door while I tell Grandma how happy I am that she called. I open the door, and guess what?

  My very own grandma Levine, my bubbe, is standing right there, talking on her purple cell phone. To me.

  “Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!” I yell. Everyone comes running, and Mom, Dad, Ben, and I all hug Grandma Levine at once.

  “What a wonderful surprise, Mom,” Dad says.

  “Perfect timing, Ruth!” Mom says. “Now you can come to Lola’s play tomorrow night.”

  “Lola,” Grandma says, “I booked my flight as soon as I got your letter.”

  “But I’m not even the star,” I tell Grandma.

  “But you’re MY star, Lola Esther Levine,” Grandma says.

  “Grandma! Grandma!” Ben says, jumping up and down. “Want to hear a cat joke?”

  “Of course, Benny Boy!” says Bubbe.

  “What did the kitty eat for breakfast?” Ben asks.

  “What?” says Grandma Levine.

  “Mice Krispies!” says Ben, and he jumps up and down some more.

  I’m so happy Bubbe is here. Ben is, too.

  “I’ve got lots to tell you, Grandma,” says Ben. “Especially about my friend Mira and the bubble-gum disaster.”

  “And I’ve got lots more to tell you, too,” I say.

  “Good, because I’ve got big ears for listening and big arms for hugging!” says Bubbe, wrapping us up in
her arms. “Let’s make some apple tea and have a good talk.”

  “Yum!” I say, because Bubbe’s apple tea is full of honey and spices and lots of good stuff. We make it together, and the whole house smells delicious.

  Chapter Seven

  Showtime!

  On the morning of the play, I crawl into bed with Grandma Levine.

  “Bubbe,” I say. “I’m worried.”

  “Why, Lola Esther?” she asks with a smile.

  “Because you flew here all the way from Florida to see me in the play, and I don’t even have any lines. I’m not important.”

  “But, Lola, everyone is important, most ESPECIALLY you.”

  “Well, Ms. Tinkle doesn’t think so—she thinks I’m afraid to be onstage, and I’m not! And these two girls, Alyssa and Makayla, are the stars of the show, and the truth is I dislike them very much. They aren’t ever nice to me.”

  “Are you nice to them?” Bubbe asks me. I think about it.

  “I try to be,” I say.

  “Well, that’s what’s most important, my sweet. You are smart and special, and I’m sure Ms. Tinkle knows that. We can’t always get what we want at the exact time we want it.”

  “Do you think I’m dramatic, Bubbe? Or am I just loud?”

  “Lola Esther,” Bubbe says with a smile and a wink, “the truth is you are both—just like me.”

  Later, when Dad and Bubbe drop me off at school, Bubbe blows me a kiss out the window. She’s dressed up for the play, with a long purple dress and a peacock shawl with gold fringe. She wears gold shoes to match, of course.

  When I walk into the gym, Ms. Tinkle stops me first thing.

  “Lola! We have a crisis. Juan is sick, so you have to say his lines,” she says. “Here they are—learn them!”