Allie Finkle's Rules for Girls: Stage Fright Read Online Free Page A

fastest readers in our class. She read each of the Harry Potter books in a day. Even the really long ones. “It’s good.”
    “Which part do you think you’re going to try out for?” I asked as I put my coat on.
    “I’m going to try for the fairy godmother of reusable cloth shopping bags,” Erica said. “Because I’ve always wanted to be one. A fairy godmother, I mean.”
    I wasn’t actually surprised to hear this. After all, Erica loves doing nice things for people. She’s always breaking up arguments and telling everyone how nice they look, even when they look awful (that’s actually one of my rules: that you should always tell people they look nice, even when they don’t. This makes people feel good, so they’ll like you better. Erica is very good at this rule).
    “You’d be really good as the fairy godmother,” I said to Erica.
    “Wouldn’t she?” Sophie said. “That’s what I told her! But she doesn’t think she’s going to get the part.”
    “Oh, I’m not a good enough actress,” Erica said. “I tried out for The Sound of Music when they did it in the community theater last year, and my sister, Missy, made it to callbacks, but I didn’t.”
    “You’ll get it,” I told her. “I just know you will.” I couldn’t imagine anyone else in our class getting the part of the fairy godmother. Mostly because I couldn’t imagine anyone else wanting that part. I mean, who would want to play the fairy godmother when she could be a princess?
    But I didn’t say that out loud, because it’s rude to tell someone they’re only going to get something because no one else wants it, not because they earned it (that’s a rule).
    “Oh,” Erica said, her eyes filling up with tears of gratitude. “Thanks, Allie!” She reached out and gave me a hug. I hugged her back.
    See? Just like I said. Total fairy godmother. Or godmother, anyway.
    “I want to play one of those evil soldiers,” Rosemary said, her dark eyes flashing with relish. “Maybe I’ll get to carry a sword! And kill Princess Penelope for trying to escape the Castle of Plastic Doom.”
    “Princess Penelope doesn’t die at the end,” Caroline said as we went down the stairs to the playground. “The evil queen does.”
    “Oh.” Rosemary looked disappointed. “Well, I still want to play an evil soldier. Maybe I can stab Patrick. What about you, Caroline?”
    “I’ve never really been interested in acting,” Caroline said, to my surprise. “I’ll maybe try out for the unplug-when-not-in-use unicorn or something, if we have to be in it. But I’m more interested in running the lights or set design or something.”
    I was shocked. I couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to be in a play. Who wouldn’t want to be up onstage, wearing a costume, pretending to be someone else in front of everyone? That seemed insane to me. The only thing better, if you asked me, would be to be a veterinarian and save baby animals.
    Then again, Caroline is a very practical kind of girl. And acting isn’t the most practical kind of thing.
    “Who do you want to try out to be, Sophie?” Caroline asked.
    To my surprise, Sophie looked shy.
    “Oh,” she said. “I don’t know.”
    “You do so know,” Rosemary said. “Spill it.”
    “No,” Sophie said. “I don’t have any idea. Really. There are so many great parts, it seems like.”
    Which was when it hit me:
    Oh, no! Sophie wanted the role of Princess Penelope!
    Of course! That’s why she was acting so shy…She didn’t want to admit it, because she was too modest to say she thought she was a good enough actress to get the lead role.
    But that’s exactly what she was thinking—the same as me!
    I don’t know how I knew. But I knew, all right. Because I wanted the exact same role.
    “Oh, my gosh, Sophie,” Erica said. We were outside by then. The sun had finally come out and was drying up the mud puddles. “You just have to try out for Princess Penelope!”
    “That’s right, Sophie,”