"So basically you're a virginal lover." Mom laughed. "Great."
I frowned. "Are you going to read these lines with me or not?"
"No! Talk to me about this Sean Curtis. I saw Phantom of the Opera I know he's better looking without the Phantom deformed stage make up!"
I shifted my weight on the couch. "Well…I…"
"What?"
"He's so not like Dean. And he's not even like Tristan."
"Tristan? Why is Bible Boy falling into this name category?"
"Well, I'm just saying that he's cocky which is not like Dean. But he's got something to be cocky about."
"So you're saying you don't like him because he's not like an annoying guy you hate and an ex boyfriend?" Mom laughed a little harder and chomped down on her toast.
I frowned. She was right. Plus…while he may be boring at times, it was pretty flattering to get all this attention from Sean.
Seriously, can you blame me? I know this sounds bad, but I'm never judgmental of those girls in the movies who get swept away by some of the popular guys. Not the jerky ones, but, like the muscle heads. Can you seriously blame them? If a GQ Fashion Plate was your boyfriend, you wouldn't have to listen to him, you could just look at him.
Sean was kind of cool to look at anyway.
"Look, if you're not going to run lines with me." I shot back, "then I have some human bio essay questions to work on."
"Can you get his autograph? He could be the next Norbert Leo Butz." Mom really doesn't care about the star of Wicked she just finds juvenile pleasure in the fact that someone has the last name Butz and a double-whammy of a first name of Norbert.
"Really." I winced. "If my last name was Butz I wouldn't procreate."
Mom nodded soberly. "I totally agree. Gilmore on the other hand…" She waltzed out of the room.
I snagged the phone and called Paris, she knows everything about the liver and I needed some more notes. I settled back on the couch, curling my toes underneath me and I grabbed my Human Bio notes.
"What!"
I don't know why, or how, Paris manages to answer the phone with "What!". It isn't even her personal cell phone, it's her parents' phone. And her parents are rich! These people probably have other rich people calling them.
"Paris, you have a maid that irons your newspaper for you. Can't they answer the phone? With something other than "what" perhaps?"
"Oh puh-leeze. If a family has money they can do whatever the heck they want." She snapped. "Tristan DuGrey is living proof of that."
With Paris, every conversation somehow included Tristan. This was one of the few times I didn't mind though.
"Yeah, Tristan's in the school play with me."
"Yeah. I wonder how he'll and Sean will get along." She snorted bitterly. Paris is one of the few people that don't like Sean Curtis. See, she's going insane trying to get into Harvard and she calls college "the c-word", and this guy has been waltzing around for two years under the confirmation of a full scholarship no matter what his GPA is as long as he doesn't lose his voice.
"Yeah, they aren't exactly painting each other's toenails after rehearsals."
"Well, Tristan's only doing this show so he can screw Ms. Warren." Paris muttered.
I paused. I hadn't thought of that. Of course! Why else would Tristan be in a school musical?
Paris listened to my silence for an extra moment. "You did know that didn't you Rory Gilmore. Come ON, do you think he was trying to pad his college resume?"
A shocked, angry…and somehow disappointed feeling bubbled up in me. Of course - Miss Warren. In fact, he was probably in her apartment right now. He always did go after girls like her.
Sean Curtis may be dull. But at least he's nice.
And dull.
"A five, six – five, six, seven eight!"
Miss Warren was working on the club scene where Julie meets Ryan. I had already made my exit and nowwatched lazily from the audience...or "house". I don't know why they called the audience part the "house". I don't get that.
Despite her idiotic behavior in real life, Miss Warren is really great at what she does. She's choreographing the entire show by herself.
There's a spotlight on Sean Curtis, leaning against a bar counter, and a spotlight on Rory, standing with a group of girls. This is the part where I go to the bathroom or something so that she can meet him.
I leaned against the wall watching everyone dance on the "dance floor" that was between Sean and Rory. Ikind of liked the idea of a huge mass of people always being between them.They hadn't seen each other yet because everyone was doing the "Thriller" dance. Don't ask how that fits it.
"Cause this is Thriller, Thriller Night.
And no one's gonna save you from the Beast about to strike
You know it's thriller, thriller night…"
Everyone was trying to look like Michael Jackson, and it was actually kind of amusing. I'd never gone to see any of the Chilton Theatre Company shows, so I was a little surprised.
"Now Sean, at the downbeat of the eighth bar, you see her." Miss Warren shouted over the thumping music. "Julie, you don't see him yet."
They launched into this semi-laughable dance where he tries to get through the dance floor over to where she is. I think under normal circumstances it would have been acceptable in the theatre. However it was Sean Curtis doing this dance, the biggest over-actor known in the Broadway community, and he had these intense facial expressions that just made me bust out laughing.
"I know." Steven, one of the set techies came up next to me holding a power drill. "We say that he's part of the everglade fairy forest when he does that." He winked and walked backstage.
The music ended and everyone looked expectantly at Warren. She stuck her tongue in the side of her cheek, as she does when she thinks. "Again I think."
They all groaned, and I hopped back on stage, since it's my line that starts the song. I settled on the seat next to Rory.
"Miss me?" I smiled at her.
"You Hear The Door Slam And Realize There's Nowhere Left To Run" She quoted without looking at me.
I affected a frown and she didn't smile.
"Excuse me, did I do something wrong?" I whispered.
"Why should I care what you do ever?" She retorted.
"Quiet on set!" Miss Warren called. "Scene!" The lights went down and came back up, signifying that we were now "acting".
"So, having a good time?" I asked casually.
"Um, yeah."
"Aren't you glad I took you out?"
"Um, yeah."
"Wanna dance?"
"Actually, could you just get me a soda?"
"Yeah, totally. Be right back." I exited stage right and went back into the audience as the thumps of "Thriller" had begun. I know, the words are pure poetry. Awards will be hailed on the witty dialogue that is Julie and R-Man.
"Ok, everyone take 20." Miss Warren finally agreed. Everyone slumped on the floor, not even bothering to go for their water bottles. I was pretty glad I wasn't in that dance number. It involved a great deal of jumping.
Tristan came out from backstage. He sauntered over.
"How's it going?"
"Fine." I didn't even look at him. I knew he wanted me too. But I was tired from watching all that dancing, and tired from holding my lips together and not laughing every time Sean danced through the lines of people singing "Thriller" to get to me.
"Hungry?"Tristan offered me part of a Hershey bar he was eating.
Of course I was. And it was a big chocolate bar. And it was screaming PLEASE EAT ME!
"No." I said shortly.
"Did you know that chocolate releases endorphins, which give one the feeling of being in love?" He asked coyly. "Did you know that?"
I didn't respond. I actually did know that. I'd spent the entire night reviewing the human bio section on the chemistry of love the night before. In fact, I knew everything about love endorphins.
"Come on Ror, don't you know anything about being in love?" He tilted his head and tried to get me to look at him. He was really cute when he did that. If you didn't hear what he was saying, and you didn't know what a completely JERK he was in real life, you'd seriously swoon.
I finally faced him. His smiled widened a little that I was finally admitting he was really there.
"When two people are attracted to each other, a virual explosion of adrenaile-like neurochemicals gush forth. Fireworks explode and we see stars. PEA or phenylethylamine is a chemical that speeds up the flower of information between nerve cells."
He blinked confusedly. I didn't stop.
"Also, involved in chemistry are dopamine and norepinephrine, chemical cousins of amphetamines. Dopamine makes us feel good and norepinephine stimulates the production of adrenaline. That's what makes the heart race."
He blinked again.
"These three chemicals combine to give us infatuation of "chemistry." It is why new lovers feel euphoric and energize and float on air."
He opened his mouth to say something. But I cut him off. So I guess I do know a lot about love, DuGrey."
Ok. Now how was I supposed to respond to that? Is she allowed to just DO that? I didn't even know what norepinephine….norepinpine…nortepndkj….AAAAA!
"I have no idea…" I began meekly.
"And actually." She snapped even more coldly. She squared off the face me.
"Maybe you know more about all this than you know Tristan. Because these Love Junkies also have one other problem. The body builds up a tolerance to these chemicals. Then it takes more and more chemistry to bring that special feeling of love. They crave the intoxication of chemistry and infatuation. Many adults go through life in a series of six-month of three-year relationships. If these love junkies stay married, they are likely to seek affairs to fuel their chemical highs."
Wait what? I opened my mouth in some type of protest, though I don't know what might have come out.
"And since you can't go out with a girl for more than six hours, I don't even want to know how chemically unbalanced you are!" She folded her arms.
I opened my mouth. Then closed it again.
"So, no, I don't want any freaking chocolate."
This wasn't just annoyed Rory. This was angry Rory.
"Rory, did I do something wrong?"
"How about 'Rory did I do something right?' because that list would be much shorter."
I frowned. "Seriously, Mary, did I-"
"Tristan!" Miss Warren called sweetly. "Do you want to go over your lines?"
"Your happy endorphins are calling." She snapped, and stomped off.
Wait…what?