Joel
I had to leave rehearsals early that
afternoon because I was due to meet Joel for our scheduled half hour tutoring
session. Basically, I go over his English essays and he signs my form to say I
helped him. This is supposedly a win-win situation but he’s not usually very
helpful when we meet in the library. I guess you could say he’s just not into
this. He will leave if I’m even five minutes late and he’s not exactly grateful
to be in my company. In Mrs Robinson’s
Guide @p29 it is written: ‘....on the subject of appearing grateful within relationships;
many men have stated that they just want a woman who is thankful for the little
things in life, who doesn’t make them feel like they are being used as a
husband and provider...’
Pl-ease.
No problems in this town where most of the
husbands and providers abscond for some reason. I’m not joking. The average
marriage of all of our parents in Sunrise (Jet’s included) lasts around eight
years. Most of the splits are ‘amicable’ divorces but very few people had
actually ‘lost’ parents, except Mark and Petra.
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...’
