Apparently Ms. Mitchell was living inside my brain because before she even called role she was passing around a sign-up clipboard asking us each to put our name below the area of production we most hoped to contribute to.
Once everyone had an opportunity to pick a task, Ms. Mitchell read aloud our assignments. No surprise—both Becca and Gabe had volunteered to serve as this year’s anchors. There were other volunteers, but thanks to the not-so-subtle glare Becca shot to each and every other name read aloud, I highly doubted there would be any real competition. I steeled myself to make an argument for camerawoman, only to discover no one else wanted the job. Like no one. Ms. Mitchell had to force camera two on one of the lazy bums who hadn’t bothered to sign up for anything at all.
I was both delighted and terrified when last year’s senior anchor asked us all to take our places for a test run. I pulled my wild red hair up into a ponytail to keep it from getting in my way and pointed the camera toward Gabe.
It was different watching him from this side of the lense. Earlier in line, he looked calm and confident. Now he tugged at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat as he stared down at the script in front of him.
We weren’t actually filming live—not on day one. His script was just a bunch of bologna from last spring, but he practiced anyway, his lips moving silently as he went over the lines.
“Today is just a test run,” reminded Ms. Mitchell. “Week one is about learning to work together. Week two we will start creating content.”
I couldn’t keep the smile from twitching at the corner of my lips.
It was finally happening. I was finally operating the camera for Good Morning, Grover, and I hadn’t even had to beat anyone up to do it.
“Action!” called Nadine. She watched with a pained expression as Becca choked out the first few lines. Despite her desire for the part, Becca had about as much charisma as a wooden spoon. When it was Gabe’s turn, Nadine had to remind him to look up at the camera.
I knew it was the camera he was looking at, but I had a whole lot of trouble focusing on his boring don’t forget to do your AP reading pitch, when it felt like his dark brown eyes were fixed directly on mine. It sure was nice having the display screen between us so I didn’t look like I was memorizing his features for my creepy basement shrine.
“That’s great,” called Nadine once the segment was finished. “Your chemistry could use some work, but for now you get to do the fun part.”
“Which is?” asked Gabe, looking highly skeptical that there was a fun part. I got the distinct feeling that being co-anchors was Becca’s idea and not his.
“Picking the music,” said Nadine, smiling brightly. “The anchors get to pick the passing time music between first and second period. When the camera comes back on, you’ll say, ‘And now to play us out,’ followed by your choice for the day.”
Gabe’s face went blank, and I had to grin. It wasn’t so easy coming up with a brilliant song on the spot.
As if reading my mind, Gabe straightened his spine and looked directly into the camera.
“And now to play us out, ‘Moves Like Jagger’ by those guys that sing ‘Moves Like Jagger.’”
Beside him Becca made an ew face, but it didn’t matter because Gabe was looking directly at camera number one.
Gabe
I had one job. Becca had me prepped for this moment. She told me she would put us both down on the list as co-anchors—without competition—and I would pick one song for our transition.
But I procrastinated. Or rather...I mentally avoided this whole situation because I didn’t want to face the fact that my overly eager girlfriend just wanted to put me on her arm to wave her giant Gabe and Becca: Perfect Couple flag. Meanwhile, I was wondering how on earth we were still even a couple after three years of a long-distance, internet relationship.
So, put on the spot, I did not have a song picked. Maybe Becca wanted something perfect, something that signified us and our unwavering unity, but I didn’t have anything like that in mind.
Instead, I had a familiar red-head and the memory of her truly awful best song choice.
And I went with it.
I couldn’t even remember who sang it. But seeing her blush and bite her lip behind the camera was worth it. I noticed her the moment we walked in. She looked far more excited than anyone else about the class and obviously wasn’t gunning for in-front-of-the-camera spots. She stood proudly behind camera number one like she belonged there.
Becca still thought I took this class because I wanted to be a movie star. She was convinced the last three years were spent learning how to be the next Leonardo DiCaprio. She had no clue that filmmaking was my passion and that I had no less than twenty nearly completed screenplays hiding in hidden folders on my laptop.
Truth be told, Becca and I didn’t talk that much at all while I was gone. If it wasn’t for Snapchat and Insta, I don’t think she would have even remembered I existed. Talking on the phone was too hard and my schedule was crazy busy with classes and...well, touring Europe.
“You can stop staring at the camera now,” Becca giggled beside me.
“I know,” I stammered. “I was just thinking about something.”
I didn’t even realize I was staring at the red-head for so long, but she started messing with the camera to busy herself, so I turned toward Becca.
“We should do that playful banter at the end like they do on news shows. You know, where no one can hear them, but it looks like they’re saying something funny,” she said with a smile so wide her perfect white teeth practically glistened between her dark, almost-purple lips.
“Sure, but it can be total nonsense because no one can hear us. Like,” I said as I turned toward her with my shoulders upright and a fake news anchor smile on my face. “I saw a banana poodle swimming in chocolate milk this morning.”
From somewhere near the cameras, I heard a high-pitched giggle, but when I looked at Becca, she stared back at me like I had a banana poodle growing out of my forehead.
“You’re so weird sometimes,” she said with an uneasy expression.
I laughed it off, poking her in the ribs. When her attention inevitably drifted toward her phone, I let my gaze wander toward the camera again. The red-head was gone, now standing near the audio booth toward the back. The class seemed to be in the middle of a break as Ms. Mitchell was busy discussing something with the writing group—the group I desperately wanted to be in.
So, I stood up and wandered around the room, my absence unnoticed by my girlfriend who was now taking selfies in front of the giant green wall behind her. When I ended up by the sound equipment, I smiled at the red-head who stood there glaring around at the board.
“Good song choice,” she whispered with a tight smile.
“Thanks. You know, I listened to it on my way to class, and I have to say…”
She glanced up at me, her eyes wide with expectation.
“It’s the worst song I’ve ever heard,” I finished, and she broke out in laughter. A few eyes around us drifted our way, so we quickly composed ourselves. Becca was still scrolling.
“It has memories tied to it,” the girl said quietly.
“Oh, that makes sense then. You are redeemed.”
The moment grew silent and awkward, and I was starting to worry that I was being too harsh about the song, until she finally turned toward me and held her hand out. “My name is Sloane, by the way.”
I couldn’t hold back my smile. I wondered briefly if she knew she shared a name with the girlfriend from my all-time favorite movie. Not something I brought up often, since Becca had informed me that it was a little embarrassing to admit that I watched my quote-unquote ‘parents’ movies.’
“Gabe,” I answered, shaking her hand.
“I know,” she mumbled looking a little ashamed.
Another silent moment passed us by while neither of us moved to walk away. “So, uh, do you know how to work any of this?” I asked, looking down at the ver
y complicated looking soundboard.
“Nope,” she answered. “You?” With her hands behind her back, she peered up at me, rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Not much, but my best friend in film school was a sound editing major, and he taught me a few things.”
She watched me intently as I reached forward and turned up one of the millions of slides. “I think this turns up the boom mic that that guy is holding,” I said, pointing to the scrawny kid holding the boom that was twice his size.
As I pushed the slide up, the room was suddenly filled with deafening feedback, and everyone covered their ears and squealed until I quickly dropped the slide back down to zero. Sloane and I dropped out of sight in a fit of laughter.
“Gabe?” a familiar voice called for me from the stage.
“I’m being summoned,” I said to Sloane from our hiding spot in the sound booth.
“Guess so,” she replied.
Then, without wanting to take my eyes off of her freckles and round emerald eyes—and not acknowledging how terrible of a boyfriend that made me, I stood up and walked away toward my waiting girlfriend.
Keep reading…
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About M.F. Lorson
M.F. Lorson is the Director of a public library in eastern Oregon. When she isn’t writing, she’s reading, mostly The Wheels On the Bus, over and over again to her two littles.
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About Jessica Bucher
Jessica Bucher is a young adult author and teacher who loves coffee, traveling, and her rambunctious Goldendoodle.
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