Finding time to post is hard, and I'm sorry I'm so out of practice. I'm trying to keep this from feeling stiff, and I want to get my fluid feel back. Anywho, sorry for the shortness...I decided to move a part to the beginning of the next chapter. Thanks for reading, and feel free to check on the tumblr page if you like.

"You'll be in charge of making sure stage crew stays on task. You have to relay messages and make sure there is no miscommunication on what needs to be done. Always be on time, and being early is always preferred. Keep on track of who is here and when someone can't make it. Make sure everything goes super smoothly," Helga continued, ticking of each item on her fingers while simultaneously trying to devour what was left of a small bag of beef jerky she had produced before beginning her list. I just nodded and tried to ignore how hungry I was, hastily jotting down notes as fast as I could. There was a whole lot of stuff to get up with. My head was already spinning from all the information, and it was only my second rehearsal.

"Okay, got it," I responded, adding a final defiant period to the end of the long list. "I'll do my best!" As I ran my eyes over the list once more, I felt a small tangle of nervousness in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't like I was capable of this or anything. After all, I had been student president – in 6th grade. I was good at keeping people on task.

"You had better. I mean, this show has got to run smoothly," she reiterated as she flipped through the giant binder balanced in her lap, occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. Her ability to multi-task was something to behold, seriously. I was having trouble just making sure my writing was legible as I tried to keep up. She didn't say anything else, so I tried to assume a relaxed position in the folding chair I was perched on. My legs were too long to sit comfortable in the metal contraption, but I found that I stretched them out in front of me as I slumped down, it wasn't as bad. Drumming my fingers on my pants leg, I peered over again to look at her jotting notes. She seemed to have completely forgotten I was even here. Which didn't matter much to me at the moment, as we didn't officially start our meeting for another ten minutes and the rest of crew hadn't even shown up yet. Well, okay, so Eugene had – but he was practicing a few dance steps out on stage for audition and had forbidden me to watch. Something about unfair bias when I came time to audition. I had asked him why he was on stage crew if he planned to audition, and he'd just given me a shrug and a wide smile, saying, "It's always nice to have a back-up. I'd love to be in the show, but in case someone comes along and has a better audition, I can still be involved." I had to admit, I admired his dedication and outlook on the situation.

I fished my battered phone from my pocket to distract me from the slow gnawing in my stomach, brushing some lint from the cracked screen and opening up my tumblr tab to do my daily update stalking. I brightened as I spotted a tiny blurb from hells-and-bells, and began to scan eagerly.

"What're you so intent on over there?" I jumped, my fingers fumbling to keep a hold on the phone yet still shield it as Helga leaned over with a curious look on her face. "Are you blogging? You have a blog? Let me see!" She reached across my lap, and I instinctively jerked the phone away from her wriggling fingers. I could feel the heat in my ears as she grinned. "Aww, little Arnoldo afraid I might see him blog? What, do you post porn?"

"No!" I cried incredulously, faking calmness as I slid the phone back into my pocket. "I just like to read other people's post. I don't really…post much."

"Wat's your url?"

I blanched, shaking my head. I didn't want her to know my url. She didn't need more material to harass me with. "Um, oh hey look, Sheena!" I blurted, waving enthusiastically as she and a few others began to fill into the room and migrated to their seats. "Whoa, hey, look at that! It's time to start!"

I breathed a sigh of relief as Helga switched into business mode, her focus now shifted elsewhere. I was going to have to be a bit more careful. I closed the browser and tucked the phone back into my back pocket. 'Alright, might as well get this over with' I sighed, setting out more chairs as people filed in.

A couple of hours later and I was eagerly perched in a booth at "Henry's Hamburger House" , which was really no more than a tiny shoebox of a place that specialized in cheap hamburgers that I would easily sell my left kidney for. They were really that delicious. I slid down in my booth, propping my legs up on the seat and shrugging out of my plaid over shirt, feeling the sweat starting to collect as the mixed heat from outside and the grill inside swirled around me. I pulled my phone back out and reopened my tab, and finished skimming her post from earlier. It wasn't anything, really. Just her excitement over some new projects coming up, but it made me feel good to know she was pleased. I started to send a message asking about her projects when I felt the table jostle aggressively. I instinctively reached out to right its wobbles, catching my breath as I saw Helga slide in across from me. Oh come on, we'd just spent the last two hours together. I just wanted to eat in peace and focus on anything other than that play right now.

"Fancy seeing you out here. I assumed you'd be out helping old ladies cross the road," she quipped, slipping one of the laminated menus from behind the napkin holder. "A bit hot for you?"Her eyes skimmed over my arms. I felt heat in my face as I jerked my over shirt back on, the bagginess like a security blanket against my lankiness.

"What brings you here? I figured you'd be still at the school?" Or drowning kittens. I rolled my eyes up to scan anywhere but her, taking a sip of my coke.

"I'm here for food. I'm starved. The beef jerky was not enough, and I figured I could spare a few extra bucks for my health." She grinned at her halfway joke as she gestured to the waitress to come over.

"Same. I missed lunch to work on some extra credit," I explained, trying to shrug nonchalantly. I was actually not doing so hot in my AP Literature course – I'm not so good wit analyzing poetry. Go figure.

"You? Extra credit? Well you are Mr. Teacher's Pet."

"I'm not a teacher's pet!"

She snorted as she ordered a coke of her own. "Sure you're not. Teacher's pet."

I pressed my lips together, trying to suppress my anger. She could have eaten anywhere else. Just my luck she picked here. Luckily my food arrived and I was glad for the distraction from food.

"So how's it going for you on the romance department?" she asked casually, chewing on her fingernail as she directed her attention out the window.

I almost choked, and I had to spend a brief moment wheezing before I could squeeze out an "Excuse me?"

"You know, the ladies. Who is catching you fancy? What's the 411?"

"Are you being serious?" I asked before taking a gulp of coke. She had to be joking. We weren't really even friends – this wasn't something I really felt discussing with her. Saying you're in an online relationship that's not really a relationship doesn't make a regular friend clap with joy; it certainly wouldn't benefit to tell that to someone you don't really spend time with.

She looked a little offended at my tone, but shrugged. "Sure, why not? Isn't that what teens talk about? Who they're getting with?"

"Is that what you and Phoebe talk about?" I blurted. I took a large bite to keep me from saying anything that might sound stupid.

Helga looked thoughtful, twisting some of her hair on her finger. "Not really. I'm not with anybody." I had to keep myself from muttering 'big shocker'. "She's not really with anyone either, what with all her dual enrollment and other AP courses… So naah, not really. Not so much anymore."

"So why would you ask me?" I tried to ask without seeming rude.

She shrugged. "So I'm just taking this as you're a single man on the prowl," she responded with a laugh. She moved her arms as her food was slid onto the table.

"There's just this girl I sort of have a thing for," I word vomited, and she peered at me with a curious look. "Well I mean, it's not like it would ever work out. It's just –I…I gotta go," I muttered, cramming the last of my burger into my mouth and jumping up. I fumbled my backpack on, trying to avoid making eye contact as I passed a bill to the cashier. I told her to keep the change, eager to leave.

I sighed as I stepped outside, grateful for the breeze. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before setting off back to the boarding house. Why did she have to come off as so aggressive? She left me nervous and frazzled, usually, from her sheer force of nature. Someone should train her in the art or womanhood. I laughed at my own joke as I realized how much Helga did remind me of Eliza Doolittle, with her loud voice and strong will. I could definitely see it. I shook my head, turning the corner and popping in my headphones. Might as well get acquainted with the soundtrack now.

Lordofthespies: I'm not really sure what you're getting at?

Hells-and-bells: I suck at flirting. I cannot do it – I can write story upon story with romantic scenes. I can writ cute quips, eyelash flutters… moments when they meet and hang out effortlessly. But I cannot…for the life of me… do it in real life.

Lordofthespies: Bad day?

Hells-and-bells: I feel like how the ugly stepsisters must have felt in Cinderella.