To 707:

Wow. Your last review is far more eloquent and better thought-out than anything I've produced in such a long time, but I thank you for the high praise. I've been insanely busy lately, so publishing anything at all has been a real struggle. (Psst! I technically shouldn't be taking the time to post this one, but I totally am.) While I haven't been completely satisfied with what ended up in these past recent chapters, it's always nice to hear that, not only do people like it, but they get what I'm attempting to build. Alan and Muffy have definitely forged a bond, only now it's being threatened because they're still figuring things out and are perhaps being too careful. And this is just the beginning of the story… I refuse to believe that Muffy is only capable of being a witch with a capital B, the resident villain of the Arthurverse. I mean, there are so many elements to play around with and make her more complex. She's not Eric Cartman in knee socks sans racism, though he's more complicated, too, when you really look into it. And speaking of South Park, yeah, Buster is at the right age to discover it and quote it endlessly. He already recites famous George Carlin bits, so… Thanks for your thoughts!

Chapter 9

The End of Friendship

"Why can't I stop flubbing these stupid-ass lines?!" Francine spat.

Although none of the Not Ready for High School Players had agreed to join them for the extra practice this afternoon, Francine and Arthur had stuck to their commitment, ending up at Francine's apartment as soon as school had let out. Francine decided to get her understudy duties out of the way first, but things were not going well, and they were only fifteen minutes in. The footbridge scene was really giving her hell, which was inexcusable. This was hardly Shakespearean dialogue, and yet she became tongue-tied whenever Marian confessed her true feelings for Harold, as if her mouth physically rejected the words coming out of it. She gave her understudy script, the copy that contained yellow highlights and margin notes on all things Marian Paroo, an unceremonious toss onto the kitchen pass through and made for the refrigerator. Arthur, who sat on one of the stools, placed a hand atop the script before it could slide off the edge.

"I need a pastrami." Francine opened the door with a frustrated sigh. "I think we still have some left. Want a snack? There's a whole buffet in this thing. Bubby's been cooking up a storm since she got here."

Bubby had come to town Friday. She planned to stay through Thanksgiving, choosing to divide her stay between her two daughters' households. From the moment she arrived she had set to baking and cooking, everything her doctor advised her not to eat since placing her on a GERD diet. "Such a tragedy…" Bubby had tutted as she whipped up a delicious potato casserole. "If I can't eat it, somebody should." It was nice having her around, even if it meant having to share her bedroom again.

"I'm good, thanks," Arthur said, resting on his elbows. He glanced around the apartment. "Where is your grandmother, anyway?"

"Out?" Francine offered as she placed the meat and a squeeze bottle of mustard on the counter and searched for bread, finding one of Bubby's fresh loaves, baked this morning. "Probably visiting with the Sapersteins or Mrs. Pariso. She says she breaks into a nervous shvitz if she stays cooped up in a quiet house for too long, and I doubt she's joking."

Not wanting to disappoint Bubby if she spoiled her dinner too much, Francine made a half sandwich. As she worked, she thought about the ridiculous situation she was in.

"Why am I even bothering, Arthur? This is so pointless. If a bad audition didn't prevent Coach Sorrell from giving the lead to her pet, then I'm not sure what it would take to get Fern out of this freaking production. And don't give me that look."

His look was easily translatable. He thought, just because she had mentioned it, Francine secretly wished for a miracle to come along and remove Fern from the musical.

"That's not what I mean. I was just saying that Fern is Marian, and this is sofa king pointless."

"Look at it this way: You're Mrs. Shinn, and that's a pretty big role, right? Coach Sorrell must have a lot of faith in you to give you understudy duties on top of it."

"If she has so much faith in me, why didn't she give me Marian in the first place?"

"Or you can keep complaining…" Arthur mumbled.

Francine supposed she was being annoying, even if she was right.

"Look, I thought I was over it, but… I'm not trying to be a schlong about it, but I really thought I won this one, fair and square. It sucks to know that I was great and didn't get it, and on top of it I have the part shoved in my face every day," she pointed toward the understudy script with her butter knife, "knowing it's a big, fat waste of my time."

"It's a necessary part of the production."

"Is it, though? I think Alex would agree with me, and he has even bigger shoes to fill. During his interview, I asked him how he handles understudying for Buster, and he was really chill. He said he just learns the role as best he can and tries not to think about it, that it's a three-night event and the chances of being called on to fill in are really slim. Even he knows it's pointless…but even he's doing a better job at getting this crap down. What's wrong with me?"

"Stress?" said Arthur. "When someone gives you a task, you throw yourself into it because you want to be the best you can be. So, knowing you, it doesn't matter if your chances of appearing on stage as Marian are slim. There's still a chance. So you put pressure on yourself to get it perfect. I don't think that's a bad thing, but like I said, you're already playing Mrs. Shinn. And then there's the Frensky Star article you're working on… That's a lot going on at once, Francine. I wouldn't blame you if you are feeling stressed."

It made a lot of sense. Normally, she welcomed a challenge, a chance to prove herself, but this really did feel like a lot at once, as if she were being yanked in several different directions when she had already taken a huge hit to her morale. How had Arthur done it, just looked into her like that, managed to decode everything she was feeling?

Because he knows you, asshole. And he's trying to help, so why don't you let him?

She knew the answer. It was because, while Arthur was right, she could not allow him to know he was that right. She wished she could thank him, not just for putting up with her, but for trying to soothe her as well. It was really too bad she could not.

"It's probably extra stressful since you wanted to play Marian and were let down."

"Jeez, you're still analyzing me? I'm trying to eat."

"I'm only trying to help."

"Has Sue Ellen asked you yet?" She said, ignoring him as she bit into her sandwich.

"No, Francine."

He sounded annoyed.

"Weird. Are you going to go with her?"

"At this point, I don't know if I'm going at all."

"You should, and you should go with Sue Ellen, that is, if she ever gets off her freaking butt and asks you."

"If you hate the Autumn Ball so much, why do you care whether I go?"

It was time for a pivot; he was becoming far too annoyed.

"Do you know how Ladonna said she hasn't kissed Buster on the lips?"

"Still trying to forget it, actually."

"Oh, don't be such a prude. I asked Ladonna about it, and she rambled for a long, long, long time before finally admitting she was nervous. Not nervous to actually do it—because, trust me, she really, really wants to—nervous because of what it signifies. She said it would mean the end of her friendship with Buster, and that was a pretty huge deal."

She gave Arthur a moment to mull it over while she devoured her food. He looked as if he hated to be thinking about it, but it was clear he was.

"I…don't see why they would have to stop being friends."

"That's not what she means, not exactly. Say two people jump from being just friends to being a couple. Obviously, they've crossed a line they can't cross over again because everything has changed. No matter what happens, they can never go back to that exact same point in their relationship without some serious history between them. That's what she's nervous about, especially if things don't work out. Get it?"

"Um, maybe."

"She's not wrong to be weirded out by it. Maybe Buster senses it too, and that's why he won't make the move. There's a lot for them to gain, but there's also a ton to lose. This is exactly why Catherine doesn't date her guyfriends. She tried to in high school, so sure that Sean or Eric or Adam was the one, that they'd last forever, get married, start a family, yadda, yadda, yadda… But not only did it not work out with those guys, things changed between them and Catherine, always for the worst. She and Adam had a breakup so bad it affected her entire friend group. Mostly, she and the guys just weren't able to talk like they did before. Catherine hated it, so she decided that it was too risky, too dangerous, and she vowed never to do it again, period. She said it's one of the best decisions she's ever made. So now do you understand what I mean?"

"Yeah," Arthur said quietly. "I think I do."

I'm not so freaking sure.

Francine licked her fingers and placed her plate in the sink while Arthur reached for her script and held it out to her. "Ready to try again?" he said.

"You know what? Screw it." She took the script from him and dashed to the couch, where her open schoolbag sat, and stuffed in inside. "Alex is right, the chances are slim."

"But he still studies all of Harold's lines," said Arthur.

"Good for him."

"Even if you're stressed, you should still learn the part. Even when I'm stressed over a new piece, I still practice the piano. I mean, Dr. Fugue will fire me again if I don't practice, but my point still stands. The more you learn, the less stressed you'll feel."

"Or I could just eliminate one of my stressors."

"But Francine—"

"Let's face it—Alex runs a greater risk of replacing Buster than I ever will of replacing Fern. I'm done with killing myself over trying to be a decent Marian when I should put all my effort into being the best damn Mrs. Shinn there ever was."

From her bag she withdrew her real script, with Mrs. Shinn's parts highlighted in blue, and held it out to Arthur.

"But I need your help. Can you do that?"

To be continued…