For the next few days at school, I floated from class to class in a catatonic haze.
Having talent is necessary, but it's not enough.
I replayed this past weekend's conversation with Mom over and over again in my head.
We're talking about another three and a half years of LA tuition.
I tried grappling with my fate. Once this semester is over, I'm done here. Just a couple measly weeks and my whole life changes again.
We just can't make that work.
I haven't mentioned it to Cat or Beck or anyone for that matter. To say out loud that my days at Hollywood Arts were numbered would make it too real. I wanted to live in disbelief for as long as I could.
During rehearsal for Spring Awakening we powered through the second half of the show, making minor adjustments to the script as needed. The first scene felt all too familiar – Beck and I, as Melchior and Wendla, reflected on our intimate moment in the hayloft through song. As Beck had said last Sunday morning, they're "struggling with the conflicting emotions that come from navigating their desires" – nerd.
That was effortless for us.
The next scene moved onto Robbie's character, Moritz. He'd just learned that his exams were not good enough for him to be promoted, come fall, and would have to repeat the school year.
That couldn't be an option.
His father wouldn't have it – a son who could fail.
Moritz sees no way out. No way to get the headmasters to change their mind, no way to find funds to flee to America, and certainly no way for his father to accept his son's failure.
I, too, felt trapped with no escape. Both Moritz's and my problem could be resolved if only we had fathers who were supportive… or money.
I wouldn't take Moritz's next course of action though.
Alone on stage and with more-disheveled-than-usual hair, Robbie is properly unhinged singing "Don't Do Sadness," yearning for when life was easy and for when he had no worries.
I don't do sadness. So been there.
Don't do sadness. Just don't care.
Jessica Baxter joined Robbie on stage as Ilse passing Moritz on her way home. They share a moment of reminiscence, remembering how many of our characters used to play together and how happy they all used to be.
"God," she sighed. "You remember how we used to run back to my house and play pirates? Wendla Bergmann, Melchior Gabor, you, and I?"
The two of them continued singing and dialogue for several minutes. The whole time, a sadness looming over them. When Ilse finally leaves Moritz to go home, he's back to sitting with his own dark thoughts. Robbie, on his knees, was looking out from the stage with a fallen face.
"So what will I say?" he asked the supposed audience. "I'll tell them all, the angels, I got drunk in the snow, and sang, and played pirates… Yes, I'll tell them. I'm ready now. I'll be an angel… Ten minutes ago, you could see the whole horizon. Now, only the dusk – the first few stars…So dark…"
He pulled a prop gun out from his jacket pocket.
"So dark…"
Cocked the gun.
"So dark."
Put the gun in his mouth.
I didn't want to go home once rehearsal came to a close. I could've been content to stay on stage, behind the curtain for the rest of the night. I could sleep under the faux oak tree and let a wonderful peace settle over me, as Melchior would say, and think hypnotic things. But knowing I couldn't, I just dallied behind a little while and soaked in the stage.
Beck was waiting for me by the foldable chairs as I gathered my belongings from the wings. He had offered to walk me home and I was finally going to give him that opportunity – but I did take my sweet time getting down.
A few other people still lingered in the Black Box; some sitting on the floor, some on the stage, some in the audience seats. A red head with a very off-center ponytail was standing next to Beck when I came down the few steps.
"Cat, what are you still doing here?" I asked.
"Hey, Jade! My mom was supposed to pick me up, but she had to take my brother to a 'special hospital' in Temecula because he wouldn't stop screaming. So I've been stuck here wandering around in the hallways trying to find people."
"Find people for what?"
She shrugged her floral backpack off her shoulders and unzipped for Beck and I to see. In place of what should have been binders, notebooks, or folders, she had boxes of retro party games.
"I wanted to play Twister with somebody, but nobody wanted to," she pouted.
I braced myself for what I knew was going to be asked next.
"Will you play with me, Jade?"
Beck tilted his head with a suppressed smile, watching me for my response. Of course, he was expecting me to uncomfortably decline the offer, but I would give her the unexpected answer. I was feeling uncharacteristically tenderhearted and wistful. I might not get to hang out with Cat after school so much once I switch to Northridge. Or Beck. Or…
"Robbie! Andre!" I called for the two of them, hanging out on the opposite side of the room. "Come play with us!"
"Let's go to the rec room," Beck had suggested. "There's plenty of room there."
He, Robbie, and Andre all had a look on their faces when I was the one asking to play games. It was a look of confusion, but they neutrally went along with it.
"Where are your hair extensions?" Cat asked on the way.
"I can't wear them next week during dress rehearsal, or during the actual performance. It's easier to just not put them in for now," I half lied. I did feel incomplete without having them, but I'm doing the least to appease my mother.
"Why can't you wear them?" Robbie asked. I gave him a bewildered look.
"It was the 1800s, Robbie."
"... Yes?"
"Have you ever seen someone from the 1800s with pink and blue hair?"
"I guess not."
"Definitely not – use your brain. If you say something else stupid, I'm gonna slap your head."
"Ha! Quick, tell her your hopes and dreams, Rob," Rex heckled.
I laughed internally at his comment, not letting him know that I sometimes enjoyed his deprecating humor. Cat lost interest in the conversation as we neared the rec room. She scurried ahead to be the one to open the door.
We just walked in, and there it was.
Occupying much of the floor space was a ping pong table that couldn't have been there for very long. We all stood by the door frame, not sure if we could make the remaining space work and wondering when the ping pong table got there.
Only a moment passed before Robbie turned to us to suggest, "Maybe we can form an official ping pong team here at Hollywood Arts to compete against other schools."
When he turned back to face the table again, I cocked an eyebrow at him.
You can't say I didn't warn you.
As promised, I slapped Robbie hard on top of his head.
"Oww!" he complained, holding a hand over the pain. "That really hurt!"
I shrugged, "Deal with it, dummy."
"Ha! She called you dummy," Rex said.
"Look who's talking."
"Whoa. Too far, Rob."
Andre, exhausted from a long day of school and rehearsal, exhaled, "Are we playing a game or not?"
Beck walked around the table and eyeballed the floorspace behind it.
"We can set up here back here."
Cat whipped a box from her backpack.
"Yay, Twister!"
We set up the white tarp with multiple colors of circles on the ground, put the spinner on the edge of the ping-pong table, and took off all of our shoes.
"How does this game work?" Robbie asked.
How does Twister work? I shot him an incredulous glare.
"Don't slap me again!"
"It's easy," Andre cut in before I could slap him. "Someone flicks the spinner, and whatever space it lands on tells us which part of our body – right hand, left hand, right foot, or left foot – we have to put on which color. But if you fall down or put any part of your body on the mat that isn't your hands or feet, you're eliminated."
"For example," Beck flicked the spinner and read, "right hand purple!"
Andre, Beck, Robbie, me, and Cat, in that order, all squatted to the floor and claimed a purple circle with our right hands. Well, all except one.
"That's your left hand, Cat," I corrected.
"Oh!"
She quickly switched hands so she wouldn't be eliminated already, but I don't think any of us would have anyway. Just let her have her fun.
"Pssh, this is easy!" Robbie said from between Beck and I.
"Don't say that too fast," I warned.
"Right foot teal," Beck announced.
I was glad that Beck and Andre were on board with what I was going to do – we all quickly chose a circle that would make it impossible for Robbie to put his foot on teal unless he could reach the one extra circle by Cat.
"Ohh!" he whined. "That's not fair."
"Is it easy now?"
"There's a teal dot here, Robbie," Cat offered.
He tried to extend his leg past me and Cat, but lost his balance and tumbled to the ground.
"I demand a re-do."
We played three more rounds of Twister – Robbie lost first every time.
Aside from his groans of frustration, we were all having a lot of fun. I probably hadn't played Twister since I was seven years old during gym. And here we all were, probably too old to play, yet having a great time anyway. For just a moment, I forgot about my worries; doing what Moritz wished he could do: returning to a happy and carefree youth.
It shattered me when I remembered that this would be a short-lived fun. Andre, Beck, and Cat were all smiling and laughing. Robbie was moping, but oddly that made me smile.
I'm actually going to miss them so much.
We were all shifting to get the fifth game of Twister set up, and I became an audience member watching them work together to straighten out the mat, stretch their bodies right again, and laugh with each other. My heart was already breaking.
These are the only people I tolerate. I would hate everyone at Northridge.
"Anyone home?" Beck asked, shaking a hand right in front of my eyes to snap me out of my daze.
I felt a prickling on the edges of my eyelids. Afraid that I might just cry a little, I found an excuse to leave the rec room for a minute.
"Yeah, one sec. I have to go to the bathroom."
No one else gave a second thought about that interaction. I left the room and pretended to walk to the girls' restroom; I was able to keep the tears from spilling over until I opened the door. After a couple steps, I anticipated the door to fall shut behind me. When it didn't, and when I noticed that someone else was walking not far behind me I quickly wiped the tears from my face and turned around.
"Do you need to use the girl's room, too?"
It irked me a bit that he might have followed me out of the room, knowing I had told a lie.
"What's the matter?" Beck asked in a sing-song way, cutting to the point.
"What do you mean? Why would anything be the matter?"
He tilted his head in a way a parent would when you both know you're telling a lie. "I know something's up. You always think of a way to be by yourself when something's wrong."
"That's not true," I lied again.
"Really?"
"Nope."
"Okay. What about when you ran from rehearsal to hide in the janitor's closet when the hayloft scene was too much? Or when you got embarrassed – admit it! – that you like your neck kissed and faked needing to go home when I noticed it? Or when you were overwhelmed at Lowline's and caused a scene to escape? Need I go on?"
…. All fair points.
I couldn't let myself keep up a lie with him when he knew it was there. But even the thought of saying the truth made my chest tighten and tears return to my bottom eyelid.
"You can tell me what's wrong," he assured, taking a step closer to me.
"It's just…" I tilted my head back to force the tears to stay put, "I'm going to miss this… Umm. Oh my God, this is so stupid, why am I about to cry?"
He stayed quiet, giving me a chance to prepare myself to keep explaining, even with clear confusion written on his face.
"I'm leaving Hollywood Arts when this semester ends, and uh, I'm going to miss this," I waved a hand over him and the general direction of the rec room.
"Whoa, what? Hold on. What do you mean you're leaving?"
Beck had mentioned a few times that he's unscareable. Right then, he was the closest to being afraid I'd ever seen.
"I don't want to leave, but Mom told me… we can't afford the tuition anymore. God, that's so embarrassing to even say." I hated the idea of people thinking I was poor all of a sudden.
"That's not embarrassing, that's just… really unfortunate."
"Unfortunate is a pity word, don't give me that."
"No, I mean it's a shame. You're really really talented and deserve to be here more than most of the people who go here. And. We're all going to miss you, too – even Robbie, but…especially me… where are you moving to?"
"I'm not moving houses, just schools because of the cost of tuition. This is actually the worst part: they're making me go to Northridge."
His face relaxed a bit and he laughed, "Yikes, that really is unfortunate."
I gave him a good glare.
"Sorry! Just trying to lighten it up a bit. Okay, so if you're not moving moving then, there's no problem here," he swirled a finger between us. "I thought for a second that you were literally leaving me."
"You still want to be with me even if I don't go here?"
"Of course I do. We don't have to go to the same school to make this work. It will be pretty embarrassing to say I'm dating a Northridge girl, though."
His shoulder deserved to be punched for that.
"Ow! Man Robbie's right, you do hit hard."
"I'm not sorry."
"You wouldn't be the Jade I know if you were," he laughed.
"Hmph," I smiled back. "But um… that helps. You know, to know that you're not going to dump me when I leave. And when my vocal chords turn to crap because I'm not getting vocal training here."
"I think I'd even stay if you sounded like Trina."
"Wow, that's serious."
A small weight fell off my chest knowing that I certainly wouldn't lose Beck – I trust him he says he'll stay. But it still pained me internally to know I wouldn't be able to see him nearly as much as I do now. When instead? The weekends? Only the weekends?
"I am serious. But, now that you mention it, I could still compile you a portfolio – maybe get a couple gigs on your own. A commercial, a part at a local theater, or something."
"I don't know," I exhaled, feeling too defeated to be optimistic. "I don't see much of a point anymore when I'm not going to get the training to make me any better. I'm pretty sure they won't have a Sikowitz or Anthony there. "
"Okay well… let's not worry about anything right now. You've still got a couple more weeks. Let's just enjoy the time you still have," he shrugged. "We probably should be getting back to the rec room anyway. If they noticed that we both left, they might be getting the wrong idea if we take too long to get back."
"Ugh, gross."
He draped an arm over my shoulder and guided me back. I allowed my head to slump into him as I walked lazily.
"Chin up, I'm sure everything will work out fine one way or another."
"Easy for you to say. At least your family can still afford this school."
He tensed just the slightest bit, but I noticed it.
"I'm lucky enough, but sometimes we need to create our own luck."
What the hell does that mean?
He opened the door to the rec room to find our friends creating a pretzel of their bodies on the Twister mat. Not paying us any mind as we approached.
"No, left foot orange!" Andre shouted at Robbie.
"My left foot is on orange, you're looking at my right foot!"
"Oww, you guys are leaning on me too heavy," Cat whined.
"That's your right foot, man! You have your legs crossed."
"We're gonna fall!" Cat yelled, still being crushed by the weight of the other two.
"Right hand purple!" Andre instructed.
Robbie started to move first and then realized – "Nope, that's not happening." His fall made both Andre and Cat fall under him.
I had to laugh at his failure, and then I thought of a way to make this venture last a little longer while still insulting him.
"I vote we keep playing until Robbie doesn't lose!"
"I second that vote," said Beck.
