by Mia Archer
Well then.
Maybe my new protege was a little more confident than I’d imagined when she started on this journey. Or maybe she wanted to get it over with fast.
Either way I was proud of her. Also? My heart was totally threatening to pound out of my chest as I watched her go down the steps and up to the stage.
I wasn’t sure if that chest pounding was because I was nervous for her or if it was because I was enjoying the view as she made that walk. Whatever.
She stepped up onto the stage and nodded to Mr. Thompson who took a seat and crossed his arms. He had a strange smile on his face as he turned to glance at me and then motioned for me to come down to the front.
I moved down and took a seat next to him. He leaned over a little to give me more room and I crossed my arms imitating him.
Up there in the lights shining down on her Chloe looked even more radiant than usual. My breath caught.
Sure she was just in shorts and a T-shirt that was advertising some Bible camp she must’ve gone to once upon a time, but it was a shirt that had obviously gotten a couple of sizes too small since the last time she visited the place.
Very distracting. I wondered if she did that on purpose.
She put her hands in her pockets. Looked down. I felt my breath catch again. That was what she did whenever she was nervous or upset about something.
Was she nervous or upset now? Was she about to blow this by mumbling her entire monologue? I was concerned for her as a friend, maybe as more than a friend, but I was also concerned because I had a grade riding on this.
Thompson made it pretty clear that her success up there on the stage was my success down here.
“I’ll be reading a monologue from Mr. Farnsworth Takes A Bride,” she said in a low voice. “I had a hard time figuring out where to find my motivation for this, but I think I’ve finally found something that will help. I hope you like it.”
Her eyes darted up to me for the briefest of moments and I felt a thrill. She finally found her motivation? She couldn’t possibly…
Then she launched into it.
“I didn't know I could feel that way about a man until I met Mr. Farnsworth," she said.
Her hands were doing a weird little fidgeting thing. My eyes narrowed. Was that nerves?
Then she glanced up at me and I saw in that glance that she was completely in control. The whole routine she’d just pulled was to put the audience off guard. Make us think she was nervous.
I smiled. It was finally happening. I’d been trying to get her to do this for ages and she was finally doing it.
Sort of.
She was becoming the character.
"The way he looks at me. It sends a shiver running through me every time, and I know it's so wrong. I can’t control myself. I know I shouldn't feel that way…”
This time she did look up and lock eyes with me. The way her eyes locked on me made it clear that yeah, she’d totally drawn her inspiration from exactly where I thought she’d drawn her inspiration.
She wasn’t just reading a monologue. She was reading a monologue about me.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone had hidden a message in a performance. Heck, hiding a little bit of the gay in a theater performance was as much a part of the theater as Rogers & Hammerstein or Gilbert & Sullivan.
It was a shock to have it happening to me though.
“Interesting choice,” Mr. Thompson muttered.
I wanted to turn and glare at him, but there was no way I was turning my attention away from Chloe. She had my complete attention now.
I wasn’t sure if she was doing the same to everyone else, but she was certainly doing a number on me. I was having trouble breathing. Goose bumps rose as she went through the monologue.
It was over the top. It was funny. She paused in all the right places. She was serious in all the right places. She even managed to have one tear trickle down her eye at the end while getting down on her knees and begging the Lord to take these feelings away from her in a bit of overacting that would’ve made that Shatner guy my dad was always watching look subdued.
In short, it was perfect for the play.
Even if I wasn’t sure about that tear at the end. At that point I had a feeling there was more than a little truth to her begging the Lord to take those feelings away. It left me wondering if she’d done some similar begging in her own room on her own time.
That might’ve worried me, but she looked at me again at the end and there was a fire burning there. I would’ve taken a step back if I didn’t have my ass firmly planted in a chair.
That made it kinda difficult to get away from her. Not that I wanted to get away from that look, but it did surprise me.
The monologue ended. Her head dropped and she stared at the floor. Silence reigned for a moment, then Mr. Thompson stood and clapped enthusiastically.
I’d like to say it was one of those moments where Chloe got a standing ovation for her trouble. She certainly deserved it.
This was a class full of kids who really didn’t want to be delivering a monologue today though. And the first girl to go had knocked hers out of the park.
So while some people clapped, most everyone else glared at her because she’d just made their job today that much more difficult.
Not that she could’ve known what she was doing.
Not that I really paid attention to all those people glaring at her. I only had eyes for Chloe.
She’d been transfixing up there on stage. Sure right now she was looking down and blushing like she didn’t even want the attention Mr. Thompson was giving her, but for that brief shining moment she’d been incredible.
This girl was going to go places in the drama club if she kept giving performances like that.
Mr. Thompson stepped onto the stage and put an arm around her. Pulled her into an awkward half hug that was made all the more awkward because it didn’t look like Chloe was in the mood for a hug.
“This is what I’m talking about!” he said. “This is the kind of passion you should all bring to your performance! Chloe, my dear, I’d say you were a natural but I’ve seen all the hard work you’ve put into this.”
At that he gave me a pointed look. I was really starting to hate it when he gave me those pointed looks. Life was so much easier when he wasn’t giving me knowing glances concerning the pretty freshman girl he’d thrown at me.
“Definitely an A for you my dear,” he said. “And an A for your teacher.”
He looked down at me and winked. I wished I could believe that wink was for my teaching method, but I had a feeling he was winking for another reason entirely.
Ugh. Adults. Why did they have to always try and meddle with our lives?
Chloe stepped down from the stage and took a seat next to me. Well, not quite next to me. She was separated from me by one seat. One achingly empty seat in between us.
She glanced at me and then looked away. Her expression was unreadable, but that didn’t matter.
I’d seen the way she looked at me while she was delivering that monologue. I had a sneaking suspicion that the reason that monologue was so raw, so full of emotion, was because she wasn’t thinking about the fictional Mr. Farnsworth when she delivered it.
No, she’d been talking about me.
Now the question was what to do about it? I mean she was pretty, she was fun to hang around with, but she also obviously still had a lot in the way of hang ups.
I wasn’t sure if I was ready to wade into the middle of all those hang ups. Not when I’d gotten used to being out and in everyone’s face if they had a problem with that.
“Seriously though,” Mr. Thompson said. I guess he’d never stopped talking when I tuned him out earlier. “That’s the kind of performance that I hope to see at the tryouts for Mr. Farnsworth Takes A Bride that we’re doing a week from now.”
My ears perked up. He hadn’t even announced the tryouts to the people in drama club and he was talking about it with a bunch of nob
odies here in this drama class? Not to mention he’d just revealed the fall play.
I wondered if he did this with his drama class every year. Everyone always wondered what the play was going to be and now I found out he was hiding it in plain sight by letting people pick it for a monologue in drama class?
I guess there were perks to taking this class. Like getting the skinny on tryouts well ahead of everyone else.
“I expect all of you to come up here and give a performance that is worthy of being selected, though of course I don’t expect all of you to try out.”
Again he cast a significant glance my way, but for a surprise this time he wasn’t looking at me. No, this time he was looking directly at Chloe.
She looked up. Seemed to realize he was talking about her. Looked away almost immediately.
Yeah, he had someone in mind when he said he wanted someone trying out. I’d told her it was impossible for a freshman to get a part in one of the shows, but maybe it wasn’t as impossible as I’d led her to believe.
She looked over at me again and this time her expression was a little more readable. She gave me the barest hint of a smile and I gave her a thumbs up.
It looked like there was going to be some serious competition for roles from a freshman for the first time I could remember.
Now it was just a matter of convincing her she needed to try out.
9
Chloe
“Come on. Would you look at that sign up sheet? That thing right there is your destiny,” Sarah said.
“I don’t know about that,” I replied.
I managed to hold her gaze while I said it. It was hard, but somehow I managed to do it. It was hard to look directly at her.
Looking directly at her was like looking at the sun. She burned too bright. At least the feelings that ran through me whenever I looked at her burned too bright.
And I was so aware of how wrong those feelings were. I shouldn’t feel that way about a girl. I shouldn’t think those thoughts about a girl.
I wanted all of this to go away. I didn’t want to feel this way about a girl. I wanted to look at Craig and feel the way I felt when I was with Sarah.
Only I didn’t. The last few weeks at youth group had proved that pretty clearly. He’d been surprised that I wanted to sit so close to him, that I wanted to hold his hand, but he hadn’t complained or anything.
And I hadn’t felt anything. Not a damn thing. It was a show of how frustrated I was that I was swearing inside my head.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “Getting up on stage and delivering that monologue in front of the whole school? I don’t think I could do something like that.”
“But it would be just like what you did in class,” Sarah persisted. “Come on. You had lighting in a bottle when you were up there onstage. You have the sort of raw talent most seniors only dream of.”
“It wasn’t raw talent,” I muttered.
Sarah glared at me. I fought it, but somehow I managed to keep from looking away from her. Even though every instinct in my body was screaming that I should look away.
She was a teacher, after all. Sort of. At least she was for this class.
Even if students weren’t exactly supposed to think about their teachers the way I was starting to think about Sarah.
“I’ve been involved in the drama club for three years now and I know raw talent when I see it,” Sarah said. “And I’m telling you what I saw up there on the stage last week was raw talent that needs to get up there on the stage and show off for the world damn it!”
I looked up at the sign up sheet. Just a couple of sheets of paper for people who were interested in the drama club to sign up if they wanted to try out for the fall play.
I couldn’t get up there on stage in front of everyone. Yet there was Sarah looking at me.
Raw talent. How to explain to her that the “raw talent” she’d seen up there on the stage had been me channeling how I felt about her?
Plain and simple. End of story.
I couldn’t tell her that. I’d die from embarrassment. So I kept my big mouth shut.
“If I sign up will you stop bothering me?” I asked.
“I’ll stop bothering you until we get ready for tryouts. Then I’m going to bother you again to get up there and do it,” she said.
Well. There was something. That made it sound like you didn’t necessarily have to try out even if you went to tryouts. I could go there and make an excuse or something.
At least that’s what I told myself.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little tingly as I looked at the signup sheet. I thought back to how I’d felt when I was in front of the class delivering that monologue.
It had felt good. Really good. Like I was unlocking a part of myself I never realized was there. A part of me I hadn’t known about until I was up thee with all eyes on the room on me.
Sure it was mostly bored eyes who were glaring at me by the end because Mr. Thompson made such a big deal out of my performance, but still.
“Fine. I’m signing up,” I groused.
I stood. Walked over to the paper. Pulled out a pen and wrote my name. Then stomped back over and took a seat next to Sarah.
The entire time I felt Mr. Thompson’s eyes on me too. He was staring and it made me uncomfortable, but I wasn’t sure that I could do anything about that. There was a gleam in his eyes as though he’d been waiting the entire time for me to sign up.
This room was getting stuffy. It was like everyone out there expected me to be this big thing, where “everyone” is defined as Sarah and Mr. Thompson.
Still. My teacher and the girl I was having all sorts of strange feelings for. That was one hell of an “everyone.”
“There, it’s done,” I said. “Happy?”
“I’ll be happier when you get up on the stage,” Sarah said. “I can’t wait to see Courtney when she realizes what you’re capable off. She’s been swanning around the lunch room talking about how she’s the perfect person to play Violet, and you beating her out for the part would be perfect after the way she treated you on the first day.”
Violet. The girl from Mr. Farnsworth Takes A Bride. A girl who’s unsure of herself. Unsure of the feelings coursing through her.
Yeah, it’s not like I’d have to do much acting if I had to get up on stage and act like Violet.
What had I gotten myself into?
I was still asking myself that same question a week later as I stepped into the familiar drama room.
Only today it wasn’t nearly as familiar as usual. No, today it was filled with a bunch of upperclassmen who all obviously knew each other.
My hand twitched and went to my back pocket. My phone was in there and all I’d have to do is send my mom a text and she’d be able to come by and pick me up.
Sure I’d have to wait a little while for her to show up, but still.
A hand closed around my wrist. Pulled it away from my phone. Next thing I knew a hand was digging into my back pocket and pulling my phone out.
I would’ve turned to fight this obvious thief going for my phone, but I knew exactly who the thief was. I turned and saw Sarah standing there with my phone in hand and a big smile on her face.
“Were you thinking of calling someone to come get you?” she asked. “Because I’m afraid we just can’t have that.”
“I wasn’t,” I said. I swiped for my phone, but she took a step back. “C’mon Sarah. Give me my phone!”
She wagged a finger. “Consider this part of your drama class grade. You’re going to get this back at the end of the evening when you’ve tried out for a few parts.”
“You can’t do that!” I said.
Okay. This was definitely messing with the plan. I was supposed to sit in the back of the room not being noticed. I’d watch everyone do their audition and I wouldn’t do anything myself.
But if I wasn’t going to get my phone back?
“All right everyone!” Mr. Thompson said, clapping hi
s hands together and pointing to a basket beside him at the front of the room. “It’s that time!”
Sarah hit me with a knowing wink and walked to the front of the room. Where she deposited my phone in the basket. Right alongside just about everyone else who also went up and surrendered their phones.
Darn it. I’d had one window of opportunity and I’d totally blown it.
“Told you I wouldn’t let you have your phone,” Sarah said when she got back to the top back part of the room. “No one gets phones during auditions.”
“You could’ve warned me about that,” I muttered.
“And take away all the fun?” she asked. “Besides, I was only half joking when I said we’re being graded on this.”
“Half joking?”
“Yup. You’re not getting graded on this, but Mr. Thompson made it clear I am getting graded on your performance today.”
My eyebrows lowered and my nose scrunched up. Which caused Sarah to hit me with a funny smile, but whatever. I was more concerned with what she’d said.
“You’re getting graded on what I do?”
“Yup. He’s made you my little independent study project for some reason, and part of that project is making sure you get up there and audition. I think he really wants you auditioning for some reason.”
Her tone was almost sarcastic there at the end. Yeah, I had a pretty good idea exactly why he’d be interested in getting me up there to audition. He’d made it clear since my monologue that he wanted me to audition.
“Neither one of you plays fair,” I said. “I want you to know that.”
Sarah shrugged. It was clear she didn’t have a problem with me having a problem with her playing unfair.
We sat and I crossed my arms. Listened as Mr. Thompson droned on about some of the background on Mr. Farnsworth Takes A Bride.
All stuff that I already knew. I’d looked it up online and the play was old enough that it didn’t kick up any of the Internet filters that were still left over from the days when my dad was still with us.
