Another chapter! Whoo! I'm on a roll! Enjoy!
Christina, Will, Al, and I sat in Pansycakes, this popular café just off campus that was started by some students to make extra money. They had started it a few years ago and it flourished immediately! Pansycakes sold coffee and baked goods and were famous for their chocolate cake.
"It's impossible," Christina deadpanned. "I just can't do it."
"Yes you can. Stop saying that," Will said.
"I just can't memorize it! I love getting into the character but when I practice it takes me so long just to read the monologue, let alone perform it!"
"My roommate gave me advice to learn it bit by bit and not all at once," I told her. "So it will be easier to learn."
"I tried that too," she put her face in her hands. Al patted her back soothingly.
"Don't give up yet, you still have one more day," Al encouraged. "And we can all help you together."
Christina smiled, "Thanks guys. I hope it helps. I really want to get into Divergent!"
I sat on Christina's bed with the boys, watching her light up with the words but pausing every ten seconds to look at her paper and find her place. She was really struggling with it. After about her seventh run through, she sat down next to me.
"Can we take a break now?" Christina pleaded.
"If you want," Will nodded. She stretched out on her bed. A minute later she broke the silence.
"Do me a favor?" she said to Will. When he nodded again she spoke, "Can you and Al run down to Pansycakes and get us all a slice of chocolate cake?"
"That'll take around ten minutes, maybe more considering how crowded it is," Al said.
"Please? I'll keep practicing with Tris while you're gone but I really want cake."
"Alright," Will sighed and stood up. "See you soon."
"Bye," I waved. As soon as the door closed I turned to her and said, "You wanted to get rid of them."
"N-no, I didn't," Christina stuttered as her eyes widened.
"You're a bad liar," I noticed.
She looked away sheepishly, "How did you know?"
"That you're a bad liar?"
"No! That I wanted them to leave," she replied.
"You would've only sent one of them and you were practically begging them to go."
"Yeah, but I did want some cake. I figured it was a way to kill two birds with one stone," she shrugged.
I nodded, "So what's up? Did you want to talk about something?"
"Yes, I wanted to tell you this but I don't want Will and Al knowing," she said.
"What is it?"
"I won't be able to do this."
"Of course you will!" I said.
"No, I won't," she said. "You know why I'm having trouble with this?"
"Why?"
"Because I'm dyslexic," Christina admitted. "And it's so hard. When I was younger it was a lot worse; so bad I could barely read at all. While the other kids were reading their picture books I was still learning the alphabet and how to tell the difference between letters like b and d. I even had to get a special teacher that took me out of the class and tried to help me learn."
"I'm sorry," I said. "Can you read now?"
"I can read better but I still have trouble making sense of the words and what the whole sentence says. And then I forget and have to go back and read them again. It's the most frustrating thing in the world!"
"But what about reading music? You had to do that in Candor, right?" I asked.
"That's different. Music notes have always been easy to read for me and most of the time I don't even need to read the music. I listen to the song a few times and then I play it by ear," she explained. "But words always jumble up for me. Letters don't really register in my brain."
"Are you good at memorizing when you listen to the music?"
"Yeah but I have to hear it a few times," she said. "It also depends on how long it is."
"Then how about I read you this monologue three or four times and see if you can remember it!" I suggested.
And just like that, her frown was replaced by a smile and she exclaimed, "That might work!"
A bang sounded through the wall and a muffled voice yelled, "Shut up!"
Christina rolled her eyes and told me, "My neighbors are bitter."
I sat outside of the auditioning room with around one hundred other students. Some of them were pacing nervously, some were practicing their monologues, and some were just sitting around and waiting. Christina was currently being auditioned in front of the four judges: Eric, Four, Lauren, and Zeke.
I read my monologue again and again, trying to cram every last word into my brain. I flipped my paper over and mumbled the words to myself.
I was in the middle of it when Peter plopped down beside me, looking pretty pissed.
"May I help you or are just here to try and screw with my mind before I audition?" I asked sourly.
"Actually I want to ask you to tell your fat friend to learn what a towel is," he said.
"What?"
"Your friend Albert is my roommate," he began. "Last night he was out late at Christina's room to help her study. I guess he doesn't know what a towel on the doorknob means because he walked in on me and Chamilla—"
"I don't need to hear this!" I interrupted with a deer-in-headlights expression on my face.
Peter looked amused at my discomfort, "Well he does. Tell him to learn when to stay out of the way or I'll kick his ass."
"It's his room too!" I said, bewildered. "He should be able to come and go whenever he wants without having to worry about you and your girlfriend doing…things."
Peter rolled his eyes and said, "Just tell him."
Then he stood up and walked away, leaving me angry at him for being such an arrogant jerk.
The door to the room then opened and Christina stepped out looking shaken to the core. She sat down next to me. I noticed her face was unusually pale.
"Are you okay?" I asked. "You look like you've been mentally scarred and need to go to a loony bin."
She sighed shakily, "That was awful. By far the most nerve wracking experience I've ever had. They just stare at you, waiting for you to mess up. And it's like they have no emotions whatsoever! They are dead serious. None of them laugh at the funny parts of the monologue; not even Zeke!"
"It's that bad?" I asked, starting to feel nervous.
"Yes," Christina nodded vigorously. "And I messed up a bunch of times! I'm going to end up getting stage crew."
She dropped her head onto her knees and muttered a soft, "Ow."
Christina sat with me for another twenty-three minutes—not that I was counting in my nervous state—looking incredibly despaired until it was my turn to enter the room.
"Good luck, Tris," she said to me.
I took a deep breath and stood up. How do I walk again? Oh yeah, one foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. All too soon I was standing on the stage in front of Lauren, Zeke, Four, and Eric.
"Tris Prior, first jumper," Zeke said, nice and friendly. "Show us what you got!"
Okay so next chapter she's going to do her monologue. We'll see how she does. Review please! I'll take any criticism, suggestions, or character requests.