Pride & Princesses

by Summer Day

  I overheard Tory gossiping in rehearsal about Mark’s long ago family ‘tragedy’ - his parents being killed.

  ‘It explains his reckless driving,’ Teegan noted. ‘He wants to push the boundaries.’

  I rolled my eyes when I heard this but Brooke just nodded sycophantically. I felt bad for Mark though. No wonder he relied so much on his friendship with Jet, who seemed more like a brother to him.

  I thought about rehearsal as I ran over to the library...

  Mr Sparks’ welcome speech was totally full of crazy innuendo but he’d never actually do anything about it. He could never even like another human being (let alone be attracted to one) more than himself. I guess Mr Sparks is kind of good-looking but don’t get worried. We’d never include Mr Sparks in the dating game. We’re not that delusional. But I have to admit, apart from the star trip factor, Mr Sparks really is a great director. He’s just filled to the brim with enthusiasm, drive and creative vision. It’s quite inspirational.

  Earlier in the day, Mark didn’t seem to notice Mr Sparks’ tantrum. He was obsessed with the lighting guide and talking to the other assistant stage manager, already in control. Meanwhile, Mr Sparks threw his hands in the air after a few hours of trying to coax onstage emotions out of Jet. Finally, Mr Sparks realized he’d never make a ‘true actor’ out of Jet and just praised him for showing up. ‘There is honour in the attempt,’ he said, quoting someone famous for sure.

  Mouche was hunched in a corner with Miss Tartt. They were discussing costumes and holding up fabric samples in the patch of light peeping in between the blackout curtains. I started learning my scenes with Tory – joy of joys. We were loud and enthusiastic and Mark was hesitant and looked almost disapprovingly above the script as he prompted us. His lack of enthusiasm was beginning to annoy me. It didn’t bode well for Saturday night although Jet seemed far friendlier.

  It was almost dark before I managed to slip away and find Joel in A-block.

  He was sitting in an abandoned desk balancing a pencil and an eraser on his nose when I entered. Joel had been at track team practice. He was wearing a hoodie and baggy sweat pants.

  ‘Hi Joel,’ I said warily. ‘Did you bring your essay?’

  ‘It’s in my pocket,’ Joel said and pulled out a crumpled mess of papers patterned with coffee stains.

  ‘Here.’

  ‘You mean you actually did the work?’

  ‘Don’t sound so surprised...you inspire me.’

  ‘Is that supposed to be a joke?’ I was pretty sure I’d heard that line before.

  Suddenly he sat up straight and pulled the eraser off his forehead.

  ‘Um...yes?’ He sounded sarcastic and unsure.

  ‘Well, I can take this home and check it and let you know if there is anything you need to change.’

  ‘I doubt there will be...’

  ‘Modest...’

  ‘Well, this one’s from the heart,’ Joel said, punching his chest.

  He was kind of funny so I smiled.

  We had to write an essay for English; add an unwritten chapter to Wuthering Heights. Joel didn’t like to read so I was surprised that his essay was at least six pages long. I flicked through it. There were some very deep and meaningful phrases...

  ‘There seems to be a lot of words here.’

  ‘Oh, that’s okay, you can just put a line through some of them...’

  ‘Uh...okay.’

  Joel was a lone warrior. He never hung out in a group but seemed friendly enough with all of his exes. He got up and walked to the door after I’d signed his little form. I was left alone in the classroom.

  It was actually the junior class homeroom and I couldn’t resist noticing that Mark Knightly’s desk had some papers sticking out of it. I didn’t think it would matter if I just lifted the lid slightly in order to place everything in the correct order; a little-used copy of Wuthering Heights under some scribbled pages of Roman history notes. Then I looked at Jet Campbell’s desk. I saw a photograph taken at rehearsals and the person smiling out from the middle of the group was Mouche. It was bothering me that, once again, Mouche was the centre of attention but I was also glad Jet was crushing on her. I quickly took out my cell and snapped a photograph of the messy desk to add to the expanding guide.

  Mouche pulled out the note again as we jumped into the jeep.

  ‘Guess what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I found this note detailing: Everything I like about M.M. That’s me! I’ve compared this note to the notes on the lighting list that I need a copy of because I’m designing the costumes...’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And? It’s Jet Campbell’s handwriting.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I think it’s kind of cute. I’m going to keep it safe...maybe I’ll even get to corner him backstage in the dressing room,’ Mouche joked.

  I felt a little bristle on the back of my arms. Mark had practically ignored me all rehearsal. But I had to fess up.

  ‘I found this in his desk when I was supposed to be tutoring Joel...’

  ‘Now Joel is like, the ultimate unobtainable man...definitely third on my list after Jet and Mark,’ Mouche said.

  ‘Tell me about it...’

  Mouche reverted to the subject at hand.

  ‘I don’t get it. So Jet took some photos this afternoon...’

  ‘Yeah, you’re in all of them...’ I replied.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, it’s obvious, he likes you...’

  ‘Well, maybe that’s because I grabbed him backstage and got on him after everyone else had left...’

  ‘Geez Mouche, are you serious? We’re not supposed to be...actually...doing it with them.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that... gross. I’m just kidding. I’ve never touched the guy apart from when I held his hand in the ocean. He’d have to actually date me a couple of times to get more than a smile. But I am considering an amendment to the rules. I think the girls should be able to chase the boys, if you know what I mean...’

  ‘The overwhelming majority of the guides are right when they state the boys have to chase the girls...or the guys are just not into it. It’s like a universal rule of dating.’ I didn’t want to admit I’d flirted with Trey. It was way out of character for me and I’d ended up looking ridiculous as usual.

  ‘I suppose, besides this game isn’t about losing our morals...but it might be fun to encourage the Princesses to lose whatever is left of theirs...’ Mouche said.

  Just then we were driving past a religious group protesting outside the local court with placards held up, one of which read: Do you want to be a garden for Jesus or a vessel for sin?’

  ‘I’m just kidding. I’m totally waiting for true love, just like you, but you never know... Jet could be...the one. Look what he gave me after rehearsal today.’

  We’d put up a note from the wardrobe mistress asking everyone to bring extra clothing and unwanted items from home for the costume department.

  ‘Jet brought in this adorable, navy blue, velvet beret to add to my collection. It used to belong to his mother but she doesn’t wear it anymore.’

  ‘It will be great for the final, tragic scene when Tory gives you the poison.’

  ‘Definitely,’ I agree.

  ‘But I have to warn you, although I can’t wait for Saturday night, we have a problem...’

  ‘I know...’

  ‘Teegan has worked out that we are having a dating competition...and she wants in,’ Mouche added.

  ‘But she doesn’t even know the rules...’

  ‘Exactly...’ Mouche smiled.

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘Maybe...’

  Chapter 13

  The Fall Fling

  We decided to get ready at Mouche’s place. That night, my mom had arranged to have dinner with Mouche’s mom and their next door neighbours on either side; a ‘younger man’ theology student and a builder who has recently separated from his wife and ‘needed
some cheering up.’ All the adults planned to play word and card games for dessert.

  ‘Well, I hope you don’t get the wrong idea and start playing strip poker or something,’ Mouche warned her mother, ‘and if you do, make sure Wednesday is safely tucked up in bed.’

  ‘Yes, darling.’ Mrs Mouche replied wearily.

  Since her mother had taken to socializing, Mouche had taken to answering the phone at midnight (when Mrs Mouche’s recently separated friends would ring for ‘desperation chats’) and say, ‘hello, this is Mrs Mouche’s brothel,’ which Mrs Mouche did not think was funny at all.

  Trey was at college during the semester and only came home to visit on weekends. Thankfully, he seemed to have forgotten all about my retrospectively juvenile attempt to chat him up. He’d taken to ignoring me or being jokey in an offhand way. I must admit the fact that I asked where he was and Mouche gave me a knowing glance made me realize I might actually have feelings for Trey...as well as Mark and maybe, help me, even Joel? I was becoming a hussy in my own mind.

  Mouche was formulating another plan as she pulled out the diary notes which were now stowed under her canopied bed, when they weren’t with me for updates.

  ‘Teegan is totally onto us. I’ve managed to distract her for the evening but only because I suggested we all form a group table so the Princesses can get some attention from Mark and Jet.’

  ‘Oh, please, I thought this was supposed to be our date.’

  ‘Well, it was, but a group date is by its very nature, open for negotiation. I really don’t want her to tell everyone we’ve formed a secret dating society that has a list of rules for manipulating boys. That would totally wreck the plan. Maybe we should start pretending we actually like the Princesses tonight – it might be a better strategy.’

  ‘Uh, okay,’ I said pulling out an issue of Teen Vogue and flicking through an article on the latest reality TV drama.

  ‘I can’t wait to see what’s going to happen next season.’

  ‘Me either, I so don’t think it’s set up.’

  ‘No way...at least I hope not. I think they should definitely do a spin off...’

  ‘Totally.’

  ‘I hope they keep filming until they all finish college and get married...’

  ‘That’d be good.’

  I’m trying on shoes when Mrs Mouche brings us in snacks on a tray.

  ‘ That show seems so addictive, girls...’ Mrs Mouche commented with a raised eyebrow. ‘Here you are...’

  Mrs Mouche makes the most delicious party food. It’s like food her mom used to make. She’s brought in an orange with toothpicks stuck all over it and on the end of the toothpicks are delicious cheeses and sausage and pickles – very grown up - and a bowl of chips and another of carrot sticks (‘for vitamins, girls’). To top it all off she brought in her famous banana smoothies with nutmeg and vanilla, ‘just because I don’t like you girls going out without food in your stomachs. It’s not a good idea...’

  Mrs Mouche is subtly warning us about the perils of social drinking and roofies. We are all like, ‘you so don’t have to worry about us...’

  ‘Good’, Mrs Mouche says, looking slightly worried.

  I have chosen the blue satin dress that ends just above my knees and blue satin strappy sandals. Mouche is wearing a pink vintage dress with delicate lace sleeves. Oh, plus ankle boots.

  ‘You look weely nice,’ Wednesday says. ‘I want to come too.’ She’s wearing her fairy wings and gold antennae.

  ‘No,’ Mouche says, ‘you get to stay here with mom.’

  ‘C’mon, darling, time for bed,’ Mrs Mouche says, as the doorbell rings and Wednesday starts having a tantrum until Mrs Mouche promises to read her her favourite bedtime story again.

  Mouche opens the door and it’s Trey, home early, who introduces Martin.

  ‘Hi girls, this is Martin. He’s studying to be a priest...’

  It’s the theologian from next door. Perhaps he’s coming over to make an honest woman of Mrs Mouche. Don’t you just hate that phrase? ‘How about making an honest man out of the bastard who knocked her up and left her?’ Mouche once stated matter-of-factly.

  ‘Hello girls,’ Martin says, as we open the door. Mrs Mouche is tucking Wednesday in upstairs.

  ‘So’, Mouche says, ‘are you training to be one of those priests who can’t get married?’

  Martin (that was his name) laughed heartily. He seemed to glow with the genuine joy of one who has found God.

  ‘Oh, your mother said you were a character.’

  Mouche looked at me and rolled her eyes as if to say, you see what I have to put up with?

  ‘And where are you both off to tonight?’ Martin asked politely.

  ‘The Fall Fling,’ I say helpfully.

  ‘And what is that, exactly?’

  ‘Well, it’s like a dance held part-way through the year to prepare us for the actual prom...’

  ‘Oh, that sounds like fun...’ Martin smiled enthusiastically.

  Suddenly a Mercedes pulled up outside Mouche’s house and the boys got out.

  ‘Jet is dressed in a very funky suit - maybe it’s European. Mark looks more formal. He’s even wearing a tie,’ Mouche said.

  There was a knock and after we raced down the stairs, Mouche opened the door. Mark looked straight at me then at my mother. Mrs Mouche walked down the stairs in her ‘dinner party’ dress – a floor length cotton sundress with billowy sleeves and Indian print that her mother wore to ‘entertain guests’ in the 1980s.

  ‘Wow’, Martin said, ‘you look really hot.’

  Raising an eyebrow, Trey excused himself to go upstairs and study. Meanwhile, Mouche looked a little apprehensive as Mark and Jet hovered at the door.

  ‘Hello boys,’ Mrs Mouche said. At this point Trish, my mom, arrived with her dinner ‘date’ and Mouche and I realized this was the right time to make a getaway. Mark had barely looked at me, again, but Jet said appreciatively, ‘you both look really nice.’ He’s going to be the mother’s favourite - I could just tell.

  Mark was behaving like the ‘strong, silent and socially uncomfortable type’ in family situations. He’d give me something to write up in the dating guide, that’s for sure.

  Mrs Mouche pulled me aside, ‘sweetie, I thought this was a group event.’

  ‘Oh, it is Mrs Mouche. We are all sharing a table with some other juniors.’ I think Mrs Mouche can sense Mark is dangerous.

  ‘Mmm...well, he certainly is good-looking,’ she whispered disapprovingly. ‘Now make sure you are both home by 10.30pm.’

  ‘Can we make it 11pm, just this once?’

  ‘No, I remain firm on that.’

  My mother was very particular about curfews whereas Mrs Mouche usually trusted that Mouche would come home when she was ready and text her if she was not. But not tonight.

  Mark still hadn’t said a word.

  He didn’t look very impressed by the surroundings. He was actually fidgeting when we moved to the door.

  Mouche stated the obvious and said, ‘you both look like gangsters.’

  I forgot to mention the post-prom party at Jet’s has a gangster theme; gangsters as in 1920’s gangsters. I thought it was cool that the boys bothered to pick us up, even though Mouche insisted upon it and it was in the dating rules.

  ‘It’s really the kind of thing a girl should expect, not be thankful for,’ Mouche stated, quoting Mrs Jones again.

  You could tell they’d taken the gangster thing seriously because there were sawn off toy shotguns on the back seat and when Mrs Mouche saw them she must have looked alarmed because Jet said, ‘oh don’t worry, they’re fake.’

  Then Trish came over and said, ‘boys, you just can’t go around like that. Anyone might think you were packing a - what do they call it in those crime shows?’

  ‘Packing a piece?’ Jet said, helpfully.

  ‘Yes, packing a piece.’

  The boys loaded the toys into the car boot.

  ‘That’s better,’ my
mother said.

  Martin came out and took photographs which made Mouche and I want to cringe and Mark was looking seriously uncomfortable when he leant on the porch and a piece of panelling fell off the surrounding fence.

  Then the dog from a neighbour’s backyard escaped, ran wild, started barking and nearly savaged Jet. Suddenly Wednesday felt it timely to attempt cartwheels on the front porch even though she was supposed to be in bed – she didn’t seem to be bothered about showing off her cartoon character underwear but I didn’t think it was at all appropriate. And then Ella and Katie arrived with their mothers and their dates. The cousins started giggling and chewing gum. It was wildly embarrassing as they all waved goodbye to us when we walked to the car. Mark glared at me as if I was pure trailer trash.