Extra Life Read Free Page A

“I love it when you diss her like that, Joey Baby.”
    She was already holding her proverbial one-way ticket to Hollywood. And I was gunning to reserve the seat beside her, all too eager. I was going to be her muse, even if she didn’t know it yet. Heck, I even hammered out my own original episode of Cape Twilight just to see if I could write outside my comfort zone . I write a lot of things, but this one was a spec script, which means some nobody dude like me types up a plot for free, hoping it’ll help me break into the business someday.
    The script was only to see if I could build a sturdy plot, maybe impress Savannah. I outlined it for weeks, rushed a draft in a few days. Seriously, once you’ve got the story, the lame-ass dialog just writes itself. The script was mostly a joke. I made two copies, gave one to Connie and put the other in a drawer, then flaked on the follow-through revisions.
    “Lights,” somebody barked. Even though the spotlight darkened, I could swear Savannah still glowed for a few seconds longer.
    I sucked up my nerves and headed her way.
    She stood up and started unbuttoning her blouse. Don’t get excited: the blouse was a costume for the news broadcast, but when she slipped it off her shoulders, man, even though I knew her regular striped V-neck tee was underneath, I couldn’t help but stumble over the snake pit of wires and cords in my path.
    Luckily, being three or four notches below a girl like Savannah, I didn’t have to fret about how I was coming off. I could trip over myself, almost do a face-plant, and it would be no biggie.
    That was the advantage I had over all the jocks and slick pretty boys. Nobody at Port City Academy had the gall to step up to Savannah Lark but me. It was part of my job description. I was the behind-the-scenes guy, the wind beneath her wings, so to speak.
    “Great show, Savannah. Your timing was impeccable,” I said. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, you know the Young Auteur competition Mr. Yesterly’s been talking about the last couple months?”
    “Sure, the short film contest,” she said, hooking her purse strap over her shoulder.
    “I’ve been working on a script,” I explained. “I really think I got something special. I’d love you to read it, obviously with an eye on the female lead. It’s something juicy that you could definitely put on your demo reel. Seriously get noticed if you put the right spin on it, you know?”
    She had her phone in both hands, thumbing through text messages.
    “You could get it done in like a matter of hours,” I said, urging her copy of the script toward her. All her lines were highlighted in pink. “I’ve broken down the shots so you wouldn’t even have to memorize the script all at once.”
    “‘Take the Leap?’” she asked, reading the title aloud.
    “It’s just a place-holder title right now. We’d shoot this afternoon.”
    “ This afternoon?”
    “Total short notice, but I had to be sure every line sung. You’ll see.”
    “But I thought the submission deadline was today,” she said.
    “Monday afternoon. I’ll edit it this weekend.”
    She smiled like you do at a kid who’s done a totally obvious magic trick. “I appreciate this, Russ. I’ll have to see how my day goes from here…”
    “We’re going to shoot at the Silver Bullet diner. You wouldn’t even have to change what you’re wearing. You’d be so perfect, Savannah, I really can’t imagine anyone else for the role.”
    “Tell you what,” she said. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you before school’s over if I’m good to go.”
    Score. I mean, tentative score. Conditionally, if all went according to plan. But, score .
    She pressed the digits into her touchscreen while I recited them.
    Her mixed berry-scented perfume smelled of sweet promise. That afternoon, I’d capture her starlight on digital video. I’d win myself a summer internship behind the gates of Silver Screen Studios, and spend the next three months