Takes place during Mystery of the Velvet Gown, and is a companion fic to my stories about Jane Morgan.

Warning: Mentions of racism.


The substitute begins history class by taking roll. Surprisingly, she manages to pronounce most of the names correctly, except for one.

"Jamie Kenworthy?" The substitute calls, glancing around the class room.

"It's pronounced 'Hi-may,'" Jaime says, for the umpteenth time in his life. As one of the few Hispanic students in the Sleepyside school system, he's used to hearing his name butchered time and time again. Ms. Darcy made the same mistake yesterday when announcing play parts.

"Ruthie Ketner?"

"Absent," Jaime informs the sub, glancing at the empty seat beside him.

The history classroom is arranged in the most asinine manner possible, with rows of desks in groups of three interspersed throughout the classroom. Consequently, the aisles are narrow, and the little space for movement gives the room a cramped, claustrophobic atmosphere. Students are assigned seats in alphabetical order, going horizontally across the rows, always starting from the left with the next letter.

And the person on the other side of Ruthie, rounding out their trio, is—

"Diana Lynch?"

"Here," Diana replies.

Jaime glances at Ruthie's empty seat. He hopes that if she's sick, she's alone at her house- he met her parents once, and they're both psycho hosebeasts. He doubts he would be able to rest and recover with either of them, and certainly not both, home.

He finds his gaze inadvertently meets Diana's, but he breaks eye contact as soon as possible. He may be playing Romeo to her Juliet on the stage, but no one said they had to be friends outside of the auditorium.

The sole reason he tried out for the play was to gain some good PR. Jaime knows he isn't incredibly friendly or kindhearted, but he doesn't want to gain a bad reputation around the school. He has to look out for Grazie, his ten-year-old brother, and Christ knows the kid needs a role model present in his life. With their chronically absent parents who are too busy with board meetings to raise their own children, and Narciso, their loser older brother, there aren't many other people Grazie can depend on.

Besides, Jaime knows the good citizens of Sleepyside are predisposed to think of him and his brothers as thugs, and by keeping a surly attitude, he'll only be fulfilling their expectations.

Most the negative opinions about him remain unspoken, and to be honest, Jaime sometimes wonders if he's just hypersensitive to any extra attention after years of his parents urging him and his brothers to prove stereotypes wrong.

Like, when Jaime whips out an old-fashioned fountain pen from his pocket, and a teacher initially double-takes- that doesn't mean the teacher would react in a different manner if it were a white kid mistaken to be carrying a knife. That doesn't necessarily mean the teacher wouldn't instantly assume a white kid was carrying a knife in the first place.

Or if Jaime is scanning the shelves at a store, and a clerk is watching his every move like a hawk- it could just be because he's a teenager, or that the shop has had a problem with shrinkage lately.

The verbal indications are much more blatant, though. Remarks that his parents aren't as young as would be expected, or observations that his family doesn't automatically revert to speaking Spanish once inside their home. When Jaime gives his address, there's recurring surprise that his family lives in an upscale neighborhood rather than Hawthorne Street, Sleepyside's resident Skid Row. Once, after Jaime had taken first in a cross country race, a member of the opposing team sneered that Jaime's ability to run probably developed from illegally crossing the border.

Jaime hopes that if he can show the town that there's more to him than just his nationality and the ensuing stereotypes, Grazie won't have to cope with the ignorance that he does.

He just wishes he could be playing opposite Ruthie Kettner instead of Diana. Ruthie is his biology partner, and never has said anything condescending to him. Not even when he spaces out during science lectures due to their teacher's monotonous voice, and misses all of the instructions for conducting experiments. She's a nice girl, Ruthie, and smart as a tack, too.

She had a great audition, actually; for that matter, so did Amy Morrisey. Jaime left auditions early because he needed to pick up Grazie from soccer practice, and he missed Jane Morgan's audition, as well as Diana's. He heard, though, that Jane was amazing onstage, while Diana's performance was . . . lacking.

The entire school school has been buzzing ever since the casting announcements with the question of how Diana wrangled the part, and the generally accepted solution seems to be her family's enormous financial contribution to the play. Jaime doesn't doubt it. Everyone in Sleepyside knows the story of how Diana ditched all of her old friends once her family had money in favor hanging out with aristocracy like the Wheelers.

Jaime knows Diana Lynch. Not very well, but with people like her, there's not really all that much to know. And while she's pretty, she is in no way suited to the stage: she's sensitive and self-conscious. She's not able to work through adversity or handle criticism.

Also, Jaime has noticed the conspicuous absence of her name from any honor roll, ever. He worked with her in English this past autumn, when they were assigned to groups for the unit on Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice. Even when reading the contemporary English translation, Diana barely comprehended the plot or character interactions. No way can she parse Shakespeare's Old English syntax to understand the emotions and reactions she's supposed to be conveying to an audience.

It's nice that Diana's parents want her to be happy, but it's a shame they can't buy her what she really needs: a backbone. A brain. A hint of talent.

In a way, his family also won the role for him. Family life has taught Jaime everything he knows about faking sentiment- especially when it comes to positive emotion.

Jaime glances at Diana again, but looks away the second she becomes aware of his gaze. A spike of guilt stabs him; he's trying to build a better reputation by participating in the play, but here he is, mentally trashing his costar without the slightest shred of charity.

His eyes wander over to the window. It's raining outside, but Jaime still has that umbrella left in his locker from the last storm.

He thinks he might stop by Ruthie's house on the way home from school. Her neighborhood isn't too far out of his walk home. The houses there are smaller and less historic than the ones in his area, yet somehow always seem more welcoming.

Going to Ruthie's house, even with the rain, is no big deal. They can talk about the play casting decisions, and maybe he can gain a new perspective. Ruthie is analytical and empathetic; Jaime has found that she examines all sides of any given issue, instead of just maintaining and defending her own stance. If anything can help Jaime learn to tolerate a staged romance with Diana Lynch, it's a conversation with Ruthie.

He'll bring her the work she missed in class today, and help her out, for once. The school library is open a half hour after school officially ends for the day, and he has plenty of change pooled at the bottom of his backpack. He doesn't mind spending a dollar or two of dimes to photocopy his notes after all the help Ruthie has patiently provided in science class.

Jaime finds his gaze wandering to Diana Lynch again. She catches his gaze this time and sends a smile in his direction.

At first, he almost yields to the temptation of staring back expressionlessly, letting her know that while they are costars, they definitely aren't friends.

Then Jaime remembers why he's doing this: to learn how to be friendlier, so Grazie won't have to deal with the same suspicion and expectations as him.

While somewhat forced, Jaime manages to return Diana's smile. Maybe, with Ruthie's help, the next time he smiles at her, it can be genuine.