Ugh, I screwed up. So, just to be clear, it's 2013, so ignored all the times I put 2012, kay?
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September 14th 2013
Christine's Pov
That stupid fight with little Barbie was not my fault. She stuck her nose into my business, thinking she could just swoop in and mess everything up, and I blew. So, really, I couldn't be blamed.
But Principal Perry wouldn't listen to reason. Instead of seeing my points ( I blame the fact that's never had a boyfriend and couldn't relate to my perspective whatsoever), she told me that I either buck and audition for the school play or I get a three week suspension—for me! And I wasn't even the one who slapped someone. That was all Tina's doing, but no; she played the new girl card and "was feeling very mixed emotions right now" crap. The principal was putty in her hands. The only thing that brightened my spirits in the tiniest bit was her exclamation that Tina, as punishment, had to audition, too.
Granted, she said audition—she never said I actually had to get the part. With that in mind, I went along with it, figuring I'd, in the least, would get cast as an extra in some different scenes or maybe a maid. Tina would probably make sure she absolutely crushed all competition; that was fine by me if it meant she took the leading role rather than me.
Irony is the play the school had decided on was Romeo and Juliet. It wasn't lost on me, not one bit. I wonder if Chase picked up the hint once I asked for the book, but he never said anything.
I spent a good three hours up later than I should have been on the internet, searching and researching—and flipping through that dang book—trying to grasp the story idea. All my life, I'd only know the outline: Boy and girl fall in love, people hate it, and they both die. End of story.
But, Jesus, did she really have to be thirteen? What did Shakespeare have against sixteen through eighteen girls?
Maybe Chase could help me with the story tomorrow—scratch that, I knew he would.
Finally, I tossed the book aside and crawled under the covers, regretting my decision of only giving myself five hours of sleep for tonight. I was going to be a bear in the morning.
I fell asleep, picturing angry parents and forbidden romances struggling in vain.
September 16th 2013
Six in the morning? Why was I up so freaking early?
Plenty of times I've had to get up at around five so we could get on the road, but this was weekend—I didn't have to go anywhere. Sure, the girls and I all planned to meet at Ashley's to plan for a dramatic finale for our 25th fashion vlog, but that wasn't until well after noon.
What was wrong with me?
I dragged myself downstairs slowly, yawning as I did so. Rem was off somewhere; my spot at the kitchen counter empty of any plates of food or drinks of any kind. I kind of expected that. I scratched my head and poured some milk sloppily into a small glass then took a big gulp. My brain still foggy, I thought back to what Bree had worried over a few weeks ago.
Were we being watched? It would make sense for our "creators"—if we could even call them that now—to watch us for a while after upgrades, and now we did those all in one group. So if Adam, Bree, or Chase got one, so did I. But watching our every move for progress? That just didn't feel right, even if I did know they were very capable of it. But I'd never seen Dad act suspicious around me before on my first day of school; he was always really encouraging about it. Could that too be an act in order to get more information on me, his own daughter?
I shook my head, my crazy hair flying along with it as I tried to push the subject away. That was not something I needed to be thinking about right now. Janelle and Sammie were at Sammie's, busying with the planner, so I couldn't put anything down in it (not that I had a slightest idea of what I would write anyway; I'm just the camera lady).
I drank my milk and sat rather dramatically on the couch. I swore under my breath when milks sloshes over the side, wetting my hand and lap. But I don't care enough to get up to back upstairs—I'm already down here with no place to be. I started to think about the play.
There were plenty of willing people—sorry, I mean "actors"—that would love to try out for Romeo and Juliet. I just so happened to not be one of them. Seriously, I would have much rather taken a month detentions than this. What was the point in it, anyway?
Either way, Tina must be thrilled.
At first (before I knew she was the new girl) I thought this girl, who just like me had never been at the school before, and me could bond over our experiences with being new and forced to stand out in a crowd. And how exactly we found ways to melt ourselves into the crowd enough to be another bystander. In other words, it would have been a friendship oppertunity I smiply couldn't pass up.
Then Tina showed her true colors—even more true than her little Barbie Doll perfect self from the mall. She was mean, concided in every way, and showed no mercy. She ahd every intention in turing my life into one of the cheesy, same-as-always high school movies that somehow made millions of dollars for being a different version of a story told over and over again.
And the play was giving her the aboslute most productive starting place.
I was so lost in thought I didn't notice Dad sneak up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. I shrieked, the arm holding my glass jumping into the air and splattering the couch with little drops of milk. I hope he was happy; I spilt more than I drank. I was still thirsty.
"Great," I said scornfully, looking at my empty glass that dangled in my hand, nearly clattering to the floor. "We have a wet couch."
I turned to face him—Dad wasn't looking so hot. He hadn't shaved in a while, at least a day or two. He needed a shower and a good 12 hour nap. "Dad," I said seriously, "You look like an ungly raccoon."
It wasn't meant to be harsh and I think he got that. Dad ran a hand through his mess of a hair. I was tempted to shove a comb into his hands and lock him in the bathroom until he came out looking like the neat scientist again. It'd been like this for a while, though, and I guess, temporarily, this was the new normal.
"Here you go," Rem annouced, showing up to thrust a coffee cup into Dad's hand. "Black—just like you ordered."
I pulled a face; I hated black coffee. And before now, I thught Dad did too.
Rem and I watched as Dad climbed the stairs back to his lab.
"What crawled into his system?" I asked.
Rem started to whir away. "Who knows."
Rachel was in a pissy mood. I don't know if it was her period or just life in general, but God, was she attacking everybody today.
Every idea one of us had for the 25th anniversary show was not good for her. At first I thought that being the min spokesperson was just getting to her head, but when she managed to blow up on three different topics, I decided that, yeah, she was definitely on her period.
Ashley had gotten so fed up with her, she stomped up to her room and hadn't come down since.
Maybe it wasn't the best time to bring up the fact that we hadn't decided on a single idea for the next show. And when everyone left, we still didn't have an idea, even when Bree, Janelle, and I sat adn watched Sammie and Rachel scream back and forth at each other for longer than half an hour. We all agreed Sammie was the loudest.
Tomorrow was going to be hell.
September 18th 2013
My mouth felt like cotton, my hands clammy as I grip the script in my hands. Mission Creek was too cheap to get a real drama teacher, so this year we were tuck with a twentysomething college student too nervous to focus on one thing at a time. I think Lisa was her name, or it was possible Lindy; it started with an L.
Lisa/Lindy nervously flutttered around in the front row, pacing and pacing with her bony hands in her thick black mop of hair. It nearly fell to her knees and was always blocking out her face—most of the time you couldn't tell if you were talking to her face or the back of her head.
"Okay, okay, okay..." she kept muttering to herself, picking up her "teacher mandated" copy of the script and rolling one of her hands in the air, but no one could tell who it was meant for. "From the top of page 3?" The command came out like a question, so no one really knew if she meant it or not.
Another fun fact about Mission Creek: all there old, classic plays are re-written to a not-so flatteirng format and dialouge. But whatever, I didn't plan on winning this anyway; why worry?
Everyone, with great reluctance, started to mutter their character's lines. The ones who were waiting for their character to be introduced just stood there awkwardly. I felt bad for them.
"No, no!" Lisa/Lindy cried, sounding like my cousin when she didn't want to watch a horror movie. To put it in easy terms: terrified of sleeping with her closet door closed. "One at a time."
Maybe people would listen better if she spoke up more.
With a nervous, shaky finger she pointed. Straight at me. "You, read your line on page 3."
Oh God. I looked down at my script—even when mordenly written I still hated the words. I mean seriously, what just-barely teenager would date a guy several years older than her? And eighteen-year old at most? The whole concept was ridiculous. Clearing my throat I began.
"This is preposturous!" I cried, feeling a rush of emotion sweep into me unexpectedly. Is that what it felt like when being on stage. "I love him and he loves I; together we shall live in peace—away from all the likes of you."
Lisa/Lindy looked up at me, looking sincerly pleased. "Wonderful!" she yelled with uncharacteristic pep. "Next person, next line."
A guy with utterly long, sandy hair hanging in his face stepped up to be front and center. Probably a drama guy. Not many of those were here, so I doubted there were many at all. "But this is the upmost unlady like act on your part, Juliet. You are shaming this family from it's roots of Montauges fortune. What will your mother have to say about this?"
This wans't even close to the real Romeo and Juliet. None whatsoever.
A mousy girl with a booming squeaking voice cried from behind me, "You'll kill us all with your act of foolishness. A shame it is that you share the family blood. Ridden you it shall be."
Kill me now.
"Ms. Alissa," a voice hollered from my right. Tina stepped up, glaring at me as she did so. (So that was her name—Alissa.) "Shouldn't the other girls be able to audition for Juliet too? It's unfair to let...her hog all the auditioning time."
Alissa shrunk away from Tina's gaze—I couldn't blame her. "Of—course," she sputtered, looking at me pleadingly. "Let her finish her next few lines and then you may go next...?"
"Tina Walters," Tina finished coldly.
Poor Alissa. So close to peeing her pants and it's onl been a half hour.
I got to read all the way through page 6—surely Tina was truly pissed that she only got to read two pages instead of the honking three I did. But whatever, she could have her stupid part. Losing it was nothing worth crying about.
I left early because Alissa was obviously done with me until Thursday, where all the "actors" and what parts they would be playing would be revealed. Joy. All that was left was the boy players anyway, and I did not feel like lounging around in the audience while they goofed off. Plenty of other girls did not either and left almost exactly when I did.
Rideless, I swung by my locker to pick up my stuff I left after last period and was on my out when a voiced called out, "Christine? What are you doing here?"
Callan.
World, you just couldn't stop at try-outs, could you?
Slapping on a hurting smile, I spun on my heel, forcing out a cheerful, "Hey, Callan. I was just leaving from the auditorium. What are you doing here?"
He completely ignored my question; how rude. "I didn't know you were in to theatre."
"I'm not." The blunt, blankness of my answer must have caught him by surprise from the taken back look on his face, but he didn't say anything.
"Well, I hope you get the part," Callan said before flashing a smile and wave at me before walking out the door.
I watched his retreating back as I muttered under my breath, "Yeah, and I really hope I don't."
Meh, this chapter could be better. But I was in a rush to get it to you guys, so ignore all the spelling mistake I know will be there, okay?
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