A Tale of Two Centuries

and waits for me to do the same. With a grin, I pull my own chair bottom down, and then on a whim release my hold, watching it snap back up. I bite my lip to contain my laughter. Life here is filled with hidden amusements.

I am still standing, smiling at my latest discovery, when a bored voice dripping with condescension asks, “Never used a chair before?”

A tall blonde sashays past me, not bothering to wait for a reply to her rude question. She marches up the four steps leading to the stage and comes to a stop in the very center, thumbs flicking over the screen of her phone.

Taking my seat, I whisper, “Please tell me she is not the teacher.” The girl does not appear much older than I am, but the way she commands the stage with her presence implies a sense of expertise.

“Oh, heck no,” Hayley says with a roll of her eyes. “That is Kendal Williams, Wicked Witch of Roosevelt Academy and a star in her own mind if no one else’s. She’s the main reason we so badly need new blood in here. She thinks she’s a bag of awesome because her resume’s filled with lame commercials hawking tampons and a half dozen forgettable walk-on sitcom roles.” She looks at me and says with complete earnestness, “She’s the teacher’s pet and the source of all that is evil in the world.”

Having learned the fine art of sarcasm from Cat, I smile and casually cast a glance at the back of the theater, wondering when the real teacher will appear. That’s when I spot the true source of evil in the world tromping through the open door.

“Him again,” I mutter.

Hayley follows my gaze and laughs. “Don’t tell me. Your first day here and you’ve already fallen for the Michaels charm?” I scoff, and she shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong, the boy’s a hottie. I just wouldn’t waste my time or heart on him.”

I abruptly turn back around and busy myself with smoothing the wrinkles in my skirt. “Certainly not. The boy is insufferable.” Austin stomps down the center aisle, the tread of his heavy boots sounding even louder as they echo off the theater’s walls, and tosses his bag on the ground. I wait until he slumps in his seat and closes his eyes, again failing to notice my existence, to ask, “But purely for the sake of curiosity, why not?”

She laughs. “Inquiring minds, huh? Well, for one, you could do better. I don’t really know you that well, but you seem like a sweet girl. Plus, Austin’s not the relationship type. You see Wicked Witch over there? As far as I know, she’s the only one he’s ever actually dated, and that was years ago.”

My gaze snaps back to the stage. Kendal, the wicked witch, has looked up from her phone to watch a napping Austin, a line creasing the skin between her eyebrows.

“It all happened before I got here,” Hayley continues. “But from what I hear, they were pretty hot and heavy. Up until she cheated on him in front of the whole school. Since then, girls fawn all over him, drawn to the whole bad boy thing he’s got going on, but he ignores it. The surf is his mistress,” she says dramatically, flashing me a smile.

Despite Austin’s obnoxious behavior, I cannot help feeling a sense of sadness listening to the tale. I do not know what a surf is, but I do know what it is like to be betrayed by the one you care about most. Did Kendal give him any warning, or was he caught as unaware as I was? I fight the urge to go to him and offer him a hug. To let him know that I understand his pain.

But then he opens his eyes.

I try to look away, even though I know that I have already been caught, but it is impossible to do so. The deep blue depths of Austin’s gaze ensnare me. The rest of his face is a mask, hiding away his secrets from the world…but in the eyes riveted on mine, there is an unmistakable flash of emotion.

Anger.

It is there and then gone in an instant, but my breath catches at the intensity. I blink my eyes and spin back around.

“Holy cow, girl,” Hayley whispers under her breath. “That boy looked like he wanted to eat you for dessert.”

“We had a disagreement earlier today,” I explain as my heart attempts to beat out of my chest.

“Must have been an epic one.”

A woman with curly brown hair and large spectacles enters through a side door, and Hayley pulls a notebook out of her bag. Scooting low in her seat, she whispers, “Looks like Satan’s spawn saw that little eye showdown, too.”

Looking to the stage, I see the previous squiggle between Kendal’s eyebrows has transformed into a series of deep grooves between narrowed, hateful eyes. Centered on me.

“Girl, you sure know how to make a first day interesting.”

“It does seem to be a talent I possess,” I confide, already wishing the day were over.

As our teacher, Mrs. Shankle, goes over all that the drama class has accomplished in the last few years, I quickly learn that Hayley was right. Kendal is the teacher’s pet—a title she seems to hold thanks to a succession of starring roles.

Shuffling a stack of papers in her hand, Mrs. Shankle says, “Last semester our classes concentrated on set design and costumes, but this spring our focus is on performance! We’ll explore what it truly means to be an actor. How to prepare for an audition, how to block a scene, and how to improvise as well as the various methods you can use to get into character. And what characters will those be, you may ask?” Expressive eyes land on each of us as she extends the anticipation. “Our play this semester will be…Back To The 80s: The Totally Awesome Musical! by Neil Gooding!”

The room erupts in enthusiastic chatter, and Hayley jots down the words bubble skirt and parachute pants.

“This is a high-energy play that is fresh and unique, and I know you are all up to the challenge. Eighteen speaking roles will be open for audition, with the two main stars being Corey Palmer and Tiffany Houston. I have copies of the script here for everyone’s perusal. Take the rest of this class to look it over and begin thinking about which part speaks to you.”

With a flourish, she sets the papers on the edge of the stage, sends the class a maniacal grin, and then ambles off into the darkened space beyond the curtain.

Hayley and I look at each other and burst into laughter.

As we walk to get our own copies of the script, Hayley addresses the rest of the class. “Guys, I’ve heard about this play. Imagine every awesome cliche that exists in high school, set against retro music, big hair, and slouch socks. It’s supposed to be hilarious.” Jabbing an elbow into my side, she grins, lowering her voice to say, “And from what Cat says about your acting skills, the part of Tiffany is yours if you audition.”

Sensing her suggestion has more to do with dethroning a certain teacher’s pet than it does with me, I smile and say, “I believe—”

“Now, Hayley,” a voice dripping with false sweetness interrupts. The murmurings of fellow students cease. “Are you trying to get the poor dear’s hopes up? A starring role? From what I hear, the girl can barely speak English.”

A sensation as though I have been struck steals my breath. Kendal strolls in front of me, pinning me in place with an expression that is at once innocent and cruel. “I’m sure you’d be more comfortable with a role closer to home. I don’t know, one of the outcasts, perhaps?”

I blink once, twice, then look at the papers in my hand. The roles for the musical are divided into groups— the regular kids, the popular girls, the cool guys, and finally, the nerds and outcasts. Nerd is a new word for me, one that Cat left off her list last night, but I am well familiar with the other term—and Kendal’s intent.

Tingles crawl up my skin, gathering at the base of my skull where cold hits my veins. The weight of my classmates’ stares crushes me. I am like one of Michelangelo’s sculptures, frozen and powerless.

I have never been so embarrassed in my life.

Under my lowered gaze, a tattered brown boot appears. I raise my head and collide with Austin’s intense stare, wordlessly daring me to stand up for myself. A glance at Hayley proves she wants me to do the same. But I am not Cat. As much as I wish it were in my nature to be bold, to say what is on my mind without worry over decorum or propriety, that is not who I am.

I lift a shoulder in silent apology and compress my lips together.