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“Oh, how about that,” said Shane, nodding approvingly. The whole room came back to life.
“By ‘finished him off’ I just mean, you know, hurt him a little,” I added, concerned they might think I’d murdered someone with cheese.
“Are you always violent?” asked a woman standing near the door.
I hesitated, unsure what the right answer was. “I wouldn’t say always.”
“Can you cook?” asked a deep male voice.
“Pretty well.”
“Are you neat or messy?” a woman seated in the corner asked.
“Neat.”
“Tell me something really embarrassing that has happened to you, and how you recovered from it,” Christine said.
“There’s so much to choose from,” I said, thinking aloud. “Well, in tenth grade I was in a school play about teen problems. You know: drugs, homework, abortion. Well, I was kind of a goody-two-shoes back then, trust me, I’m not anymore, and I had to play the part of a pothead. I didn’t realize marijuana got smoked, I thought it got snorted like cocaine, and I acted out my part all wrong. It wasn’t easy living that down.”
Everyone looked uncomfortable and the mood immediately soured.
“Was it something I said?” I asked.
“You’ll want to keep from mentioning drug use of any kind on television,” said Christine, solemnly.
“Sure. Of course.”
“Now Emma,” said Shane, tapping the tips of his fingers together. The entire room hushed. His delight over me seemed to have unexpectedly run completely dry. Deep furrows formed in his shiny red forehead. “We sensed a real spirit in you on that video. You really grabbed our attention…” He looked around him, for backup.
“A zestiness,” said Christine.
“A zippiness,” said the woman with the little glasses.
“You had that it factor that makes people take notice,” said Christine.
“Charisma!” said a guy in the back of the room.
“But,” said Shane, “I’m sensing that it’s not necessarily here with you today. That zing, that… snappiness. I mean,” he looked around the room for support, “correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m not feeling it. Are all of you?”
“Not so much…” “Maybe a little…” murmured a chorus of voices around the room in a soft babble.
“Emma, what’s going on? How are you feeling?” Shane asked me.
How was I feeling? I tried to swallow, but I couldn’t. “I’m feeling fine,” I croaked.
“Sweetie,” he continued, “we don’t want to upset you, but we made a special exception for you.”
“We rushed through the first steps and pulled a lot of strings to get you here,” said Christine, with an expression like I had deeply betrayed her.
“If you’d like to be on Bellamy’s Redemption, I’d like to have you. But we need to see that fun girl who was on the video. Does she still exist?” Shane asked.
“Of course. Of course she does,” I said.
“Can you bring her back?”
“Yes!”
“Can you sprinkle her with excitement?”
