Four Musicals and a Country Boy

It was here, in my hand, practically begging me to open it. The letter I had so longed for was even more perfect in reality. I had dreamed this about this moment for sixteen weeks.

Now all I had to do was open the envelope. But Icouldn't wouldn't open it until Ross and Harley joined me. So while I waited, I admired the envelope. It was a very official, creamy sort of color that only very good, or very bad, kinds of letters came in. In the middle was my full name, made more official by the addition of a "Miss" at the beginning.

"Miss Rebecca Elise Grouse," I mused in my head, "I like the sound of that. It's sophisticated, yet still down-to-earth, like it should be."

And in the upper left hand corner was the best part: the return address. Julliard. Drama Department. Lincoln Center, New York City. 11245.

The door slammed open and broke off my intense study of the envelope. I looked up and saw Ross walking down the center aisle of the John S. Harvey Memorial Auditorium. (Don't ask me who John S. Harvey is; I don't know, no one does.) Ross practically lives in this auditorium; he's the director of the Winston Marshall High School Dramatics Society. At a towering 6'4", most people think my best friend belongs more on a basketball court than in the director's chair (He actually has one of those...), but I know the truth. Ross has no athletic ability whatsoever and to allow him to participate in a sporting event of any kind is not only stupid, it's dangerous.

Ross pushed his longish brown hair out of his naturally tan face and squinted his perfect gray eyes at me. He's really very adorable and quite the heart breaker (but only because he's too busy directing, or thinking about directing, to date anyone).

"You didn't open it?" he asked, very surprised. I smiled sheepishly and explained that I was waiting to open it.

"Why?" he asked, climbing up onto the stage next to me. I shrugged, not wanting to reveal the true reason until absolutely necessary. Ross took the envelope from me and held it up to the light, trying to see through it. I snatched it back.

"I was too nervous to open it on my own," I admitted, sheepishly. Ross nodded understandingly. I glanced at my watch; it read three 'til five.

"Maybe Gavalas will parole him early for good behavior," Ross suggested as he joined me in staring at my watch. I had to laugh at that.

"I seriously doubt that."

"Yee of little faith."

"No, me of much reality. Harley's dyslexia is really bad. He needs all the help he can get."

"Ouch, that was a little harsh Elise."

I shrugged, "It happens." Ross had to smile at that.

"Yeah, it does. A little to often actually. You need to work on that Elles." I rolled my eyes. He means well, but he'sbetter worse than my mother.

Five minutes later, the side door opened and Harley walked onto the stage. Ross was messing with the lighting board now, and I was his test subject. Harley walked over and joined me in the amber light of a $6,000 Mega-Watt spotlight. Where he proceeded to wrap his arms around me and kiss the top of my head.

I looked up into his dark brown eyes and smiled. He was the one rock in my raging sea of life, and I knew I would be lost without him (Cheesy, but true.).

"Sorry I'm late," he drawled into my hair. I smiled; even after knowing Harley for a year and dating him for four months, his accent got me every time.

Ross left the tech booth and raced to join us on the stage. I sat down and turned the letter over in my hands. Harley smiled at me and slid his arm around my shoulder. Ross bounced up and down on his butt like a kid waiting for Santa.

Carefully I tore the envelope open and removed the letter inside. With shaking fingers I open the single sheet of paper and began to read.

"Dear Miss Grouse, We are delighted to inform you of your selection as one of eight semi-finalists in the Julliard Four Plays Scholarship Competition. It is now up to you..."

I leaped to my feet and nearly jumped for joy. Tears welled up in my eyes as I gleefully hugged Harley and Ross. Finally, I had a real shot at what I wanted.