‘Not I, believe me,’ read Garrick from a scruffy-looking script, standing stock-still. ‘You have … uh … dancing shoes with nimble soles; I have a soul of lead, so stakes me …’ He paused to look up and chuckle. ‘Stakes …’ he repeated. When no one else seemed to think the joke was funny, he carried on. ‘Uh … stakes me to the ground I cannot move.’
Camilla looked like she was about to strangle him. ‘Garrick, you are staying for extra rehearsals this afternoon,’ she ordered.
‘But my band is supposed to jam tonight,’ he whined.
‘Until you are off script,’ Camilla said, ‘and can do the entire play from memory, you will be stuck here with me every afternoon. Now, continue!’
As they went on, Olivia’s stomach churned like a Mister Smoothie mixer.
Garrick was the least romantic Romeo in all of history. He might make a great twitchy alien, but there was nothing appealing about his spotty skin or his lecherous grins. At least she’d been able to avoid kissing him so far.
Jackson, on the other hand, looked amazing, delivering his lines with confidence. He still hadn’t tried to kiss her and Olivia was starting to worry that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Garrick for much longer.
‘I dream’d a dream tonight,’ read Garrick.
‘And so did I,’ replied Jackson.
‘Well, what was yours?’ Garrick sounded more like a petulant child than a Shakespearean actor.
‘That dreamers often lie.’ Jackson put his hands together and tucked them under his ear, like he was sleeping on a pillow, but emphasising the double meaning of ‘lie’.
It’s so unfair! Olivia thought. Jackson can get across two meanings while Garrick can’t even get across one. Think how good a Romeo Jackson would have made!
It wasn’t long before Olivia took the stage across from Garrick for the Romezog and Julietron scene where they meet at the ball and fall in love at first sight. There were boxes set up to represent the tables and the neon light fountain that would be on stage for the real thing.
Camilla and some of the other cast members were sitting in plastic seats to watch.
‘Are you ready?’ asked Camilla.
‘Uh, huh, huh …’ Garrick chuckled his helicopter laugh again. ‘Just a sec.’
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a familiar-looking bag and tipped a little powder down his trousers. Immediately, he started hopping around like a flea. He was using the itching powder to stay in character, taking method acting to a whole new level.
‘Let’s start from Tybalt’s exit!’ Camilla commanded.
They began rehearsing Romeo and Juliet’s first meeting.
‘O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do!’ Garrick twitched nearer and nearer with every word. ‘They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair,’ he said in a monotone.
Unlike the previous scenes, Garrick had all these lines memorised. Probably, Olivia thought, because he read the kissing parts over and over again. Ew. But he was just saying them, without any feeling. Olivia wondered if Garrick even knew what he was saying.
Olivia had to hold on to all her willpower to stay in character and not cringe as she said her line, ‘Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.’
‘Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.’ Garrick leered at her.
Olivia felt her mouth go dry. That was the line just before Romeo kisses Juliet.
‘Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d.’ Garrick leaned in and Olivia turned it into a quick air-kiss – even that made her want to projectile vomit.
‘Cut, cut!’ Camilla cried, waving her hands. ‘Olivia, you are way too human. You’re supposed to be a robot! And why aren’t you two actually kissing? There’s only a week until final dress rehearsal. I need to see the real love, the real passion.’
Olivia almost gagged – love, passion? With Garrick?
‘Run those lines again,’ Camilla directed.
It looked like Olivia was about one minute away from having her first kiss – with the wrong guy.
‘But … but …’ Olivia stammered.
Do something! she thought. It was too late to pretend to be ill; the fire alarm was in the other room; Camilla would kill her if she disrupted rehearsals.
‘I’m having trouble with my motivation,’ Olivia blurted. ‘Would a robot really kiss an alien? Robots don’t have feelings.’
Camilla practically shrieked, ‘That’s what makes it romantic! It’s the whole point!’
Olivia looked around for support, but Jackson must have gone for a costume fitting. Ivy was somewhere painting the set and Charlotte was giggling in the corner.
Ugh.
‘I completely agree, Ms Edmunson,’ Garrick said, still wiggling around from the itching powder. ‘It’s very romantic.’ He opened his arms to Olivia. ‘Now, come here and give me a big kiss.’
Olivia felt a little bile rise up from her stomach. Kissing a boy who would actually put itching powder down his own jeans! Gross.
‘We can’t just kiss,’ Olivia protested, stalling for time. ‘You have to say the lines.’
‘Fine: thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purg’d. Now, c’mere.’ He hopped a jerky dance towards her. His breath smelled like bacon.
Three … two … one …
At last, an idea came!
Olivia shrieked at the top of her lungs. Garrick recoiled and Camilla jumped out of her seat. Olivia felt a tiny bit guilty, but she’d started now and couldn’t stop.