“Julie? Julie Strickland?” the assistant stage manager read off the list in a tentative voice.  My heart plummeted.  I stood up before I had a chance to think. 
“Right here,” I affirmed with a sloppy gesture. 
“Great,” smiled the petite woman.  She was sporting an oversized clipboard and a headset.  Her nametag read Anne.  “This way!”  She signaled down a hallway to her left.  
I gulped and took one last look at the other aspiring actors waiting not-so-patiently in the small cubicle of a waiting room.  Well...at least I’m getting it over with, I thought. 
I turned and followed Anne down the corridor.  The hallway twisted, turned and seemed to go on forever.  My stomach tied another knot in itself with each consecutive step.  At last, Anne came to a halt in front of a nondescript door coated with a peeling layer of baby blue. 
Look at that.  It’s blue.  You like blue.  What’s so scary about blue?  I took a deep breath.  That’s it.  Just breathe.  As long as you remember to breathe, you’ll make it out of here alive. 
“You’re pretty brave, you know...going first and all,” Anne offered, most likely noticing my discomfort. 
I let out a nervous laugh.  Was there a choice?  Oh god.  What have I gotten myself into. 
“You nervous?” Anne queried. 
I nodded.  “A bit.”  That was an understatement.  It was clear to both of us. 
“Well, I’m sure you’ll do gr-” Anne was interrupted by a muffled sound coming from her headset.  She turned away for a moment and put her finger to her ear.  “Okay!” She turned back, “They’re ready for you.  You can head on in whenever you’re ready.”
I smiled and threw a thank you over my shoulder as I turned to face the door.  I turned the knob and the door squeaked open.  As I entered, I was immediately faced by a panel of two middle-aged men and one woman.  The man on the right was tapping away on a cellular device, while the middle one seemed to be positively enthralled by his bowl of cereal.  The woman, on the other hand was giving me enough rapt attention to make up for her absent-minded colleagues.  She was wearing a pair of thick bifocals that gave her gaze a condescending quality. 
Is she staring at me?  I think she’s staring at me.  Oh god, why is she staring at me?!
She cleared her throat and her eyes flitted to the ceiling for a moment.   “Well?” she prompted. 
My eyes widened.  She was staring, you asshat.  You’ve been standing here like a buffoon for the good part of a minute!  I shot her a flustered and slightly embarrassed smile and hurriedly removed by coat and bag.  I crossed and took my position across from their table.  I was suddenly conscious of my heavy breathing and the way my hands hung uncomfortably limp at my sides.  There was an awkward silence. 
“Well...do you have a resume?” the man in the middle asked, putting down his spoon. 
“Yeah! Yeah of course!” I exclaimed.  I ran over and removed it from my bag.  I handed it across the table.  Cereal-guy took it and smiled.  
“Okay...uh...Julie, have you prepared a monologue for us today?” he said, looking up from my resume. 
“Yep!  It’s um...it’s from The Clean House by Sarah Ruhl.  It’s a…”  C---.  What’s the character’s name?!  Jane?  Lane?!  “It’s a Jane monologue, I think.”
The panel shared a look. 
Oh god.  It’s not Jane.  Okay.  Just move on. 
“Whenever you’re ready,” said the man on the right.  He had put his phone away now. 
I nodded and squeezed out a sigh.  You got this, I thought.  Just relax and don’t overthink it.  I took a moment to collect my thoughts, then opened my mouth to speak.  Much to my dismay, no sound came out.  I could hear the murmurs of the panel exchanging judgements in front of me.  My ears began to ring and the walls were closing in.  “I’m sorry!” I squeaked.  I grabbed my coat and ran out.  I breezed past Anne in the hallway. 
“What happened?” she called after me.
“I panicked,” I shouted as I rounded the corner.   
It wasn’t until I made it to my car that I was able to collect my thoughts.  Maybe Mom was right.  I should have stayed in pre-med.