Chapter 21
Etiquette
After the final dates that night, we consolidated the diary, even adding
Trey’s interlude with the snooty Missy. Both Mouche and I made a note that we
had broken one of our vital rules regarding last minute invites, “always make sure the boy gives you advance
notice of a date, otherwise he will just take you for granted. Plus, you need
at least a few days to get ready, be prepared and look your best.”
That
was one rule, even if it was in the interests of spontaneity, that wouldn’t be
easily broken again.
The
next day, all the girls gathered after dress rehearsal. The run of Rocco and Julie was terrible; everything
that could possibly go wrong did go wrong and I was beginning to think Thom
shouldn’t even bother sending a representative from Julliard. Of course, he
insisted. (Sometimes you have to let
others believe in you even more than you believe in yourself or so it says
in “A Girls Guide to Etiquette” - although
Mouche disagrees on that one).
“Besides, a bad dress rehearsal always means a great show,” Peter
enthused.
Backstage, during the run, Mark was mouthing the words as I said them.
He’d heard them all more than once and I have to admit I was impressed with the
gusto and good humor he suddenly displayed. Mark actually seemed humble in this
new light.
“Almost like Jesus when he was a carpenter,” Brooke noted.
Even Miss Tartt was a fan (well, obviously, Miss Tartt was a fan). The
scene he was lighting for the tech run went something like this:
Julie to the Priest (in confession)
I am in love with someone...so different from
me. I just don’t know what to do. I have this...potion that will put me to
sleep, I’m thinking of pretending to be asleep...forever. When we’ve fooled our
families Rocco and I can run away together.
Priest
That could create major complications.
Paris walks in
Paris
Julie? Why are you crying? Why is my love in
tears?
Paris takes Julie aside
(stage whisper)
We are to be married on Thursday. Then, all of
your father’s money will be mine.
Julie
I am so
not in love with you.
Paris
Is that all you have to confess?
Julie
Also, that I love...someone else.
Julie starts to leave,
Paris tries to stop her and she slaps him
Paris
Ah, shrewish...all that will change after
Thursday. Where are you going?
Julie
To find Rocco
Paris
Are you
on drugs?
Mark
could be heard laughing from the top of the lighting cable at this oh so
serious high point in Act Three as Mr Sparks looked on unimpressed. Then I
started laughing too. I mean, Mr Sparks was really losing it. The entire third
act was laced with lessons about life choices, teen marriage and the perils of
alcoholism and drug taking.
I’m
not sure whether the school censors would be letting Mr Sparks get away with it
but you had to hand it to him for trying. And, of course, there was Miss Tartt
enabling him, glancing lovingly his way and cheering him on. Why is it women
help males shine then end up waving on the sidelines like fans? Is that enough for them? Don’t they want to be
the driving forces behind their own lives? Or is it just easier to let boys
steer the way? The Good Girlfriend Guide
states, “Never be jealous of other women.
Anger and jealousy are wasted emotions. Find the love in everything and focus
on it.
Always strive to do what’s right for you without being mean to others –
especially other women (because by dividing to conquer, women are busy
devaluing other women while men climb the career ladder and let other members
of the boys” club in with them).
If the worst happens and another woman
‘steals’ your man consider placing equal blame on both the man and the woman.
Ask yourself why your instinct dictates that you should cut the woman out of
your life but consider taking the man back? Is the female somehow more culpable
than the male...or is she just less valuable?
I would
never consider men more valuable than women just because the world sometimes views the status quo this way.
“Phoebe Harris, if you break out of character again I will consider
asking Mr Sparks to replace you!” Miss Tartt snapped from the sidelines. She’s
working as the prompt today because Jet and Mark are fulfilling other duties.
Miss
Tartt has been unduly mean to me and sometimes even Mouche (her favorite apart
from Mark). It has to be said, though, that the woman works hard for Mr
Spark’s. Perhaps she needs someone to set her straight. The Mrs Jones Guide wouldn’t do her any harm.
I could leave it in her bag anonymously. I will highlight the parts about “not allowing men to use your smarts to make
themselves look and sound smarter than they are” and the part about “not feeling so threatened by other females
that you have to make life extra hard for them.” After all, helping others
has to be good karma.
When everyone was finishing rehearsals, and after I’d surreptitiously
left the Guide just under the flap of
Miss Tartt’s faux leather handbag and Mr Sparks had given us “the talk” about
how “we have to mean what we say and feel what we mean,” and Mouche and Ethan
had found some kind of equilibrium playing a delicate tune in tandem on the
upright piano, much to Jet’s obvious displeasure, we all dispersed.
I
saw Miss Love and Mr Frames walking hand in hand towards their car park in the
distance from the auditorium windows.
“That’s true love,” Tory said wistfully as Miss Tartt delegated all the
carrying of props to the minions to take backstage. Mouche had gone on ahead with
a car stuffed with final costume adjustments. I was the last to lock up. Or so
I thought.
I
was thinking about Mrs Robinson’s guide
(my favorite) suggesting that “those who
can laugh together are made for each other,” Does this mean I could be made
for Mark? Or was it Joel or even Trey I laughed with more? I had to admit, even
though Joel had been busy dating Ella and Mouche’s cousin in tandem; we did
have some amusing moments together. It
was all becoming very confusing as I raced back from my recently fixed car to
get the last pages of the Boy-Rating
Diary that I’d stupidly left in my make-up box in the dressing rooms.
Mark was still packing away a lighting cable. I was shocked that he
seemed to enjoy his rustic but lonely “menial tasks.”
We
met as I was racing down the stairs and he was walking up them.
We
had to turn on our sides to pass each other, but our bodies touched. It was
kind of uncomfortable, but in a good way.
“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” Mark said sarcastically, when we
had about one inch of space between us.
“You wish,” I said, mortified he may have discovered my Boy Rating Diary
where I had highlighted the “why girls
should stop treating boys like Princes and other girls like minions,” page
for Teegan.
As
the secret and real versions had started to merge, along with our animosities,
we had all become more curious about each other’s experiences and more willing
to share. The more we shared, the more we learnt about the way boys think and
the games they play and the more we stopped being total frenemies and embraced
what could (almost) be described as “friendship.” Why couldn’t girls be more
supportive in real life? Perhaps we just needed a common goal (the greater good)
in order to work together. Imagine how
much we’d missed when we were unsupportive of each other. Everything was
changing. Boys like Mark and Jet and Joel and Ethan were in for a wild ride.
