Flashlight of my Mind

Chapter one: monday

Do you ever think back to when you were a kid and wish you hadn’t wanted to grow up so fast? Or wish you could have really thought about how lucky you were, to be so innocent. I miss being a child, some would argue that I still am a child. But at fifteen, I know better than to believe them. When I was eight, my dad got transferred to Seattle, Washington. We left Carlington, Pennsylvania in a blink of an eye, and I have forgotten all about those days. Don’t get me wrong, Seattle’s okay, and we have more money than we did in Carlington, I even take acting lessons now. Of course, I sometimes wonder what life would have been like If we had stayed in Carlington, Dad says we’re going there on summer break. That’s only a semester away.

Until then, I’m stuck here, at Seattle’s Academy For The Artistically Enlightened, or SAAE. Honestly, I like school, but it wouldn’t be half as easy without my best friend, Madison Kemp. Not only is she the sweetest person I know, but she’s fiercely loyal. Yvette, who is the “Queen Bee” of SAAE, has tried to recruit Madison to her evil swarm countless times, but Madison just says, “No Thanks, Yvette” and goes about her day, leaving every wannabe within a 5-mile radius glaring into her skull.

Now, I’m not saying that just because she’s a beautiful and charming person she doesn't have enemies, almost all of the girl are super jealous and ignore her all the time. I, however have no interest in impressing Yvette. That’s why Madison and I are so close. You ever realize how a mutual hate of someone brings you closer together? I have.

So today is Monday, and as usual, the crowded halls are slouched over in dread of beginning the week. I make a left and slide past Brian Hemmings and Gretel Smit, who are carrying a huge paper mache sculpture of Atlas (a Titan, famous in greek mythology) holding the earth in his misshapen hands. I give them a thumbs up, and Gretel smiles. When I get to Mrs. Gordon’s room there’s a sign on the door to go to the north theater, so I have to pick up the pace. I just noticed how dim my school is, I mean, literally. Man, You would think after all the famous people who went here we would have decent lighting, I’m not complaining or anything. Okay maybe I am. I take the stairs down to the 1st floor, and then whip back around to the north side. When I finally reach the class, the bell rings as soon as I sit down, the next seat is available is right behind, you guessed it, Yvette Richards. I’m officially the most unfortunate person I know.

“Hi, Vi.” she sneers.

“It’s Vivian“ I correct her, even though it’s useless.

“ Whatever.” She says. I roll my eyes and gently prod the back of her seat with my converse sneakers.

Then Mrs. Gordon clears her throat and I sit at attention. “Today we are starting a new Unit. ‘Love Stories’”. I groan. She continues, “We will also be holding auditions for a spring musical: ‘Romeo and Juliet’”. This just gets better and better.

Yvette turns in her chair and smirks, “I know who you would want Romeo to be, if you were Juliet that is. Which is unlikely.” I turn bright pink. She turns back around, and Seth McDonald, who is sitting next to me, squints.

“Me?” he asks. Wow.

“Ego Much?” I mutter under my breath.

Mrs.Gordon clears her throat. The back of the class falls silent, and I can tell Yvette is rolling her eyes.

“Now what is a love story?” asks Mrs. Gordon. Immediately my hand shoots up

“Yes, Vivian?” All the heads in the audience turn to me. Instead of stuttering and turning bright red, I beam and say:

“A story dealing with love/romance.”

“Wow, wait to go Einstein!” Yvette says. Of course.

“Correct, and as Yvette made clear, it was a simple definition. However some things are as simple as they seem, whereas some are complex and interesting as you look harder. Just like love. Thank you, Ms. Drake.”

Did I mention I love Mrs. Gordon? We start with our warmup, a mirroring activity, I grab Madison’s hand, and we head over to the apron of the stage. I start bobbing my head, and she follows in suit. After the warm ups, Mrs. Gordon gives us homework. A full 43 page excerpt from ‘Romeo and Juliet’. Wonderful. We finish class off with a new syllabus for the semester and then the bell rings and I’m off to biology. My day consists of three types of classes: Some I absolutely adore and others I despise some are just Blah. For example, Drama: adore, Biology: despise.

This is my schedule:

A-day

DRAMA--adore

BIOLOGY--despise

MATH--blah

LITERATURE--despise

B-day

FRENCH--blah/adore( like language, dislike teacher)

SWIMMING--adore

HISTORY--despise

ENGLISH--adore

When I get to the lab, Mr. Kippler is assigning lab partners for this semester. I swear, if I have to be partners with Jeremy Byers again, I am going to scream. Last semester, He did all the projects and if I tried to help, he said that it would be to much of a bother to erase. Mr Kippler is reading off the names of partners “ Helen Jones and Katie McKellen.” I cross my fingers. “Vivian Drake and Sean Hamilton”. Oh No. Sean Hamilton is the hottest guy in the history of SAAE. I’ll Fail this class if I’m sitting next to that! He parts from his crowd of dorky side kicks and grins at me. I immediately dislike him, he’s gotta be a Jerk. Perfect, I’ll just treat him like any other person I dislike, and everything will be fine!

“Hey” he says.

“Hi” I answer, my lips pursed and my eyes down. He doesn't notice. We’re assigned our lab station, and I put my books down.

“I like your pictures.” he comments. I have a picture collage of all the productions I’ve been in on my binder.

“Thanks.” I say, as bluntly a possible.

“Why is your face green?” he asks, pointing to the snapshot of my “Wicked” performance.

“I’m Elphaba.” I explain, and I can’t help but soften my icy gaze.

“Oh, wow thats a big part, huh?” he says.

“Yeah, I’m really into theater, but when you go to a school full of dramatically advanced students, it’s rare to get a lead role, I’m really proud of that production.” I explain.

“Cool.” he says, almost at a whisper. Then for a few moments, we just stare at eachother. Maybe Biology won’t be so bad this semester.

Except for one thing,

“Hey babe!” says Yvette. See? “Hey Vivie, how are you?” she asks, smirking.

“Fine.” I stiffly reply.

“Great. Oh, Sean, were still on for the Valentines Day Dance, right?” she says as she turns her attention to Sean. I see him frown in confusion.

“But I haven’t even asked you yet, what if I don’t want to go?”

“Don't be silly, of course we’re going together, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Well maybe I’m not interested in some lame school fundraiser disguised as a silly dance full of cheap snacks and stupid, overplayed music.” He says, bluntly. My heart skips a beat. I feel the exact same way.

“Come on, don’t be ridiculous, it will be fun. All my friends will be there!” Yvette Begs.

“Excuse me? Last time I checked, I wasn’t dating your friends. It doesn't matter to me whether or not they are there. If you want to go, just go!” Sean says, firmly. Wow.

“Please, all my friends will have dates. It’s part of the image I have to keep.” She whines, I can barely take it.

“Oh, so I’m just a trophy now? Well, I’m done being in a relationship with someone who thinks of me as an accessory.” With that, Sean had won his argument. Yvette scowled and marched off to her table where her little posse stood, stunned.

“Wow.” I whisper

“Wow.”He whispers back.

We burst into laughter, and it’s time for 3rd period.

My 3rd period is Math, which I’m getting all A’s in, so I just text Madison in German.

This is so stupid, first day back and I already have a 3 page essay on punctuation’s importance in literature due next week, plus the shakespeare reading and 20 questions in math. My Sister pulls up to our house, a two story ranch style with a flawless garden. Thanks to my mother, who loves flowers.

It’s my turn to make dinner tonight, I always make either chicken fried rice or tostadas. My favorite food is pizza, but I have to have help to make it because I’m gluten intolerant. It just takes too long. My Dad is at HQ, and my Mom is at her yoga class. I pull out the chicken and start tenderizing it. Cooking is one of my favorite hobbies, besides acting, that is, my other main interests would be shopping, youtube, and photography.

When the chicken fried rice is done, I put it in the oven to keep it warm, a trick my grandmother taught me years ago. I trudge over to the couch and start my homework. I’ve always done my homework in strange place, I have a desk, but when I’m jumping on a trampoline or in the attic loft, I just focus better. I lay on my back and recite shakespeare aloud in an old english voice until my sister Marabelle (my sister) texts--yes I said texts-- me to shut up. Which is stupid because she’s upstairs.

When my mom pulls up, I have completed shakespeare, the math, and a page of the essay.

We eat in silence. Marabelle discreetly texts her new boyfriend Josh under the table. They got together over the break, studying for SATs, her ex was his older brother who graduated the year before. She wasn’t that interested in him but she’s had lots of unimportant flings.

“How was your day?” My mother asks.

“Fine.” I say.

“Did you learn anything?” she says, slightly annoyed at my flippant answer.

“Um, not much, we started a unit on love stories in Drama, and our spring musical is going to be Romeo and Juliet.” I reply.

“I bet know who you want Romeo to be.” Taunts Marabelle. She really doesn't.

“Ew, no, I don’t like him, Marabelle!” I say. She’s puzzled, now.

My mother raises her eyebrows, but when I look at her, she lowers them quickly. Ha, I bet she thinks I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Right now she’s wondering who I could possibly have a crush on at my school. But, she’s hit a dead end because she’s not a PTA mom, and therefore does not have a automatic list of all the boys in my classes since the 4th grade permanently installed in her head.

“I meant academically, what did you learn?” She ventured to ask again.

“Gah, I don’t know, it’s the first day back! what do you expect?!” I shout at her. Sometimes I can’t help my temper.

“Vivian Alicia Drake, you may not talk to your mother that way, you can go to your room, or you can apologize right now!” she yells back, her sharp voice tearing at my conscience.

I push back my hair and stumble as I run out of the room and bang my side against the doorway. I run into my room and throw myself on my bed and dissolve into tears. I know what you’re thinking, I’m a sassy, arrogant, crybaby. Well, you’re pretty much right. I can’t control my feelings, and being able to tell what everyone else around me is thinking doesn't help.

Chapter Two: Tuesday

Sleep is my drug. My bed is my Dealer and my alarm clock is the police. Ugh! An alarm is one of the worst things a person can have next to their bed, especially when you wake up so early that there’s not a trace of light to help you find the snooze button, let alone the plug. So I’m floundering about in the dark for a good 2 minutes, and when I get up, I’m already grumpy. My hair is a thick bunch of dirty blonde that sticks up in the morning. My eyes are blue-gray. My sense of style is something of what you would call “ Suburban Fashion”. I wear new, upbeat and trendy clothes everyday. Converse and Cardigans are a staple in my wardrobe. Right now I’m wearing a yellow and gray cardigan over some gray jeans. I tell you this as I stand in the mirror, brushing a comb through my silky hair, and applying my makeup. I pull my beanie on, because it’s freezing, whip up a mug of hot chai tea.

My mom is already in the kitchen, making cupcakes for Marabelle’s birthday party today. She’s tired, and she was up all night talking to Shelly, her best friend from high school. Shelly’s on a different time-zone cause she’s on her honeymoon for her second marriage and-The bus pulls up, and I sprint out the door. I might as well come clean now, it’s as good a time as any. Now that I’m boxed into the bus seat by Ryland Jensen, who is giving Gilbert Farley a massive noogie. “Hey Vivian.” Says a nauseating turd-munching moron. Also known as Yvette. I swallow my voice. I know silence is my best option, but smacking her sure is tempting. “Nice grunge you got going on there today.” She smirks. Her pathetic side kicks chortle and flip their stupid, cliche hair.

When the bus pulls up to the school, we are late as usual, and my french class with Madame Tulupe has just begun. Madame is perhaps the oldest teacher at SAAE, and her hair is so pale, It’s translucent. When she walks, she creaks and groans. So I’m lucky that her eyesight is bad, I think as I slide into my seat and start taking the notes down. She is thinking about her will, she’s wishing her husband was still alive, and on the inside, she’s crying. I suddenly feel bad that I’m telling you how old she is and how I’m benefiting from it. Well, I’m not letting it ruin the class for me, it’s the only class I have without Yvette. The French is easy, my Uncle Edgar lives in Paris, and we visit him over spring break sometimes. He’s very helpful with pronunciation.

The next classes are Swimming and History, which are simple. I take Senior's English even though I'm a Sophomore. My vocabulary has been known to be quite voluminous, as well as perplexing for most people. I wanted to take english, granted I tested out of it, something most high schools won’t let you do. It’s my last class of B-day, and then I go straight to my job at the mall. Last summer, I was hired at Forever 21. I like working there because I can help people, I also-um, listen to their stories. Alright, I’ve been trying to tell you all day, and you probably already figured it out. I can read minds. I’m not just empathetic, I can actually tell the exact words they are thinking of saying, whether or not they do. That’s all I really want to say on that.

“Ms. Drake, would you please show this young lady where our sale garments are?” That’s my boss speaking. Her name is Clara Gunn, and she’s the epitome of serious.

“Right away, Mrs.Gunn.” I say.

She’s thinking: Suck up.

The girl who is looking for the clothes on sale is a short brunette with a stocky build, she’s self conscious about her arms and Caleb, and the sales associate running the booth at American Apparel is her older brother.

“Are you looking for a particular piece?” I ask.

“No, I just want some cheap clothes.” She answers. She is only looking for something that will make her look pretty.

“I have an excellent blue chiffon number with a butterfly sleeve that will accent your pretty eyes perfectly.” I say, in perky saleswoman mode.

“Okay, I guess I could try it.” She mumbled, sheepishly. She’s “happy”.

“Oh, a flare jean with some ballet flats would be great with that.” I encourage her, her arms look way better.

“Alright, cool.” See, progress. I love helping people feel better about themselves through fashion, It’s just so rewarding.

“Your total will be 47.99, with the student discount, and would you like a bag?” I announce as I finish ringing her up.

“Um Sure I”ll take a bag thanks!” She says, taking the bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She hopes Kyle McKendric notices her tomorrow. She swipes her card.

“Of course, come back soon.” I say, another day, another triumph.

I once went 5 days in a row, selling something to every customer I had. Mrs. Gunn doesn't trust me cause I’m younger than the average employee, but I’ve proved to her time after time how I CAN do just as much if not more than an older associate. My shift is up at 6, and Marabelle picks me up at 6:15, so I have just enough time to pick out a pair of patterned tights for the new year.

Marabelle is pissed. Her green eyes are narrowed and her eyebrows are all scrunchy. Oops, what did I do this time? She is thinking really hard at me the whole drive. How could I be so Ignorant, and evil. Maybe Josh didn't like her, and made up the whole story, but more likely I was just a jealous little brat with a self esteem issue.

I’ve never been more confused. Marabelle is not usually this good at containing her anger for this long-

“Are you going to say something or not!?” She whisper-shouts at me.

“About what?” I ask, genuinely, I really have no idea what’s happening.

“Josh broke it off with me today, I hope you’re happy.” She tells me, matter-a-factly.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know why you’d think I’d be happy.” I say, trying to pry the answer out of her steel-trap mind.

“Oh, so that prank call you did last night to make him dump me was a joke he made up just so he could date Addison?!” She yells.

“Well, yes.No? Maybe. I mean No, no, I didn't prank-call anyone. And why aren’t you In a better mood? It’s your birthday!” I’m really over-acting this. She buys it.

“Well, maybe I would be happy if Josh hadn’t dumped me, lied, and then asked out my worst enemy right in front of me.” She whines.

“Humm, that’s unfortunate. You have to show him you’re better than that. Forget him, it’s your Birthday! Celebrate with your friends! Have fun!” I smile at her as big as I can, willing her to follow my corny, yet accurate advice.

“Okay. When did you get so grown-up?” She asks, side-glancing at me over the steering wheel. Sometimes your best option is silence.

Chapter Three: Wednesday

So today’s the auditions for Romeo and Juliet. I threw up twice already. I am usually pretty calm before an audition, but today, My head is throbbing. I’m wearing my lucky clover pin and my hair is in a braid.

Deep breaths, sure everybody does it, but it really works for me. I’m huddled in the back row of the theater. Madison is is belting ‘Memory’ from ‘Cats’ on stage. Oops, she skipped a line. I guess she’s nervous too. All in all it was pretty good.

“Vivian Drake” calls Mrs. Gordon. I pull off my hoodie, and strut down the aisle as confidently as possible. All eyes are watching me move steadily through the sea of velvety chairs. I’m pretending I’m a bridesmaid or a star on the red carpet. Mrs. Gordon thinks to herself, “Finally, yes, please let her nail this”. That builds my energy. My face flushes, and I take center stage. Clear my throat. I start.

When I finish, everything’s quiet. Then applause. I’m beaming. I’ve never nailed that final note before. Thank you, Phantom of the Opera. “Well done.” is what Mrs. Gordon says. “Brilliant, there’s my Juliet!” She thinks. Oh my gosh! Yes!!! “Thank you!” I say, and wink at Mrs. Gordon. She looks confused, oh well.

Madison rushed up to me. “Wow, that was great, Yvette ran out. But you slayed! I’m so proud. You got Juliet for sure.” She’s going a million miles per hour, but it’s okay, cause she gets me. “You were great, too. I bet you’ll get a big role. She rolls her eyes at me, and grabs my arm. She pulls me out into the hallway.

“I have news, big news.” She whispers. Her face is flushed, so I know what’s coming. One of Madison’s infamous crush confessions. “Who is it this time?” I ask, playing along. “Well, Harry told me that Gretchen was told by Gilbert that Sean Hamilton wants to ask me to the dance.”She says, gasping for air. I widen my eyes at her, and cross my arms. I don’t believe it.

“ Madison, he’s not asking you to the dance.” I say, matter- a-factly.

“Yes he is.” She says.

“No, he’s not.” I insist.

“ What do you know, why wouldn’t he, I’m stunning.” She Whines. This is the part of Madison I hate, she’s spoiled and self-obsessed.

“It’s not about you, he just doesn't like dances, he told me yesterday, and anyway, he just broke up with Yvette, so, I don’t think-” She cuts me off.

“I don’t want to hear it, Vivian, he likes me, and you’re jealous.” She glares at me and strolls away.

The bell rings, and I join Sean in barely making it to the door on time. he smiles at me. I give him a nod, and slide my books onto the desk. Oh, Crap, it’s frog dissection day. “Isn’t this exciting?” Sean asks, playfully tugging my braid. I pull it out of his hands and shrug. “Hey, you okay?” He asks, his eyes look sincere. I nod, “Yeah, I’m just kind of in a funk right now.” Oops, there you go, Vivian, making yourself vulnerable. “What’s going on, if you don’t mind me asking?“ He says. I smile at him. He smiles back. “My friend is mad at me for no good reason.” I reply.

“Oh I’ve been there.” he says, sympathetically. I want to roll my eyes, if only he knew.

“I’m not sure you have, exactly.” I say, as monotone as I can.

“Okay, are you going to tell me more, or keep me guessing?” He asks.

“I’m not sure.” I say, looking up at him.

“ Alright, I see how it is.” Then he gives me his best performance of a sad, wounded animal. I laugh, and he bows. I wish I could tell him, but things are going good, so I’d better not, he’ll find out eventually.

The smell of formaldehyde makes me glad I’m not going to be a doctor. The frog that Mr.Kipler gave Sean and I is the biggest, slimest one. I have to hold my nose to keep from gagging, while Sean does all the work. I just noticed how handsome he looks when he’s working. He bites his lip just the slightest bit, and his hair falls right in front of his eyes. As I’m taking notes, I swear he looks at me. He was probably just wondering if I was doing it right. His mind is very quiet. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, and it disturbs me, it’s like he’s immune to my powers. Strange. That’s never happened before.

The bell rings, and I swing my backpack over my shoulder. My math teacher is Ms.Lawing. She’s a tall, smart blonde with sarcasm as a second language. I can proudly say, that I have outwitted her on several occasions. Those being the only occasions I ever served a detention. But, overall, Ms.Lawing is a good teacher. She gives the exact same amount of homework every day, 20 questions, all work shown, or it’s wrong. Although Ms. Lawing is sarcastic, she also really cares about her student’s grades and helps as much as possible.

The whole class period, we do the review packet we got yesterday, and try to ignore Anderson. Anderson Hawk is possibly the most annoying person at SAAE. Not only is he annoying, he skipped three whole grades and is a pervert. All through 3rd period he was whispering little nothings in to my ear. Little gross,disturbing nothings. At one point, I nearly turned and smacked him. I know Julie Gonzales did once. Bravo, Julie for having more guts that I ever will.

Fourth period is boring, so I’m going to pretend it didn't happen.

When I get to forever 21, I head to the break room to start folding the new shipments. I’ve hardly begun when Mrs.Gunn steps in and demands the attention of all the employees. I straighten my shirt and stand at attention. Diego, Francesca, and Josie join me in a row. “As you know, this weekend is our big winter sale, and I had two girls say they couldn’t be bothered to show up, so I’ve fired them.

She’s thinking about Thelma and Grace. They didn't say they couldn’t be bothered, they just called in sick two days in a row, and then she saw them working at the movie theater. She had approached them about it, and figured out from their manager that they had overlapping theater shifts with their Forever 21 shifts. Needless to say, they were fired from both jobs.

“So, I will be needing two of you to work a shift on saturday, you will be paid twice as much than usual for each hour.” I raised my hand, but then put it down, I was volunteering all morning, and then I had rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet, if I got in, but I basically already knew. I chuckled to myself, and Josie nudged me, shaking her head. “Is something funny, Ms. Drake?” Mrs.Gunn asks, her dark, dark eyes piercing into me. “Um, no I was just--” I start. “You were just listening, right?” She asks, daring me to speak back. I nod, and Diego and Josie take the extra shifts.

“I will be hiring two new employees, so get the word out about the jobs, and you will get a bonus if I hire someone you suggested.” She announces. I know by bonus, she means a hot dog coupon from Harry’s Hot Dogs next door. Typical.

When I get home, I whip up some of my famous pizza nachos, which are basically nachos with pepperoni on them, and throw on some Pjs. I get on my laptop and start Spotify while I do my Homework. Pretty simple. About 10 minutes after I’ve finished, my dad walks in.

My Dad works for a law company and sues major companies for defective product issues. he had to be relocated because The company’s last manager was found guilty of fraud.

“Hey baby girl.” He says

“Hey Dad.” I answer, turning down the Taylor Swift that’s currently blasting in my ears.

“What’s for Dinner?” He asks, rubbing his hands together and inhaling deeply.

“Mom’s making Chicken Parm,” I say, and then continue reading through the script that Ms.Gordon gave me. Juliet has like, a lot of lines. Some of the words in them I, yes I know me, the vocab whiz, has too look up. Did you know there’s such a thing as Dictionary.com?

Marabelle walks in the room, a with an air of...perfume? Aha! I catch her thoughts and realize she’s going on a date. I hope he likes me. He’s way cuter than Josh. I bet I could make Josh jealous. What if we run in to Josh! Ha, can you imagine?-- Okay so she’s obviously not too into this guy, but she’s totally still upset about Josh.

“Nice date?” I ask.

“What? No, I’m going over to Ally’s for a study sesh.” I roll my eyes. Marabelle slices her hand across her throat, as if to slit it, and then points at me, glaring. Then she marches into the kitchen, and tells our parents she’s going to Ally Grant’s house and to text her if they need anything. Then she walks out the front door, and slides into a red mustang. Trouble.

Then the phone rings. It’s Madison.

“Hi”

“Hey.”

“So, did you check the postings?” I say, I’m sure I got Juliet, so I’m just asking to keep the conversation going.”

“Um, yeah and Congrats on Lady Capulet.” She says, quietly. My heart literally breaks.

“Oh, it’s no big deal. I’m really looking forward to it.” I say. One word: Acting.

“Anyway, I’ll text you the rest of the cast list.” She says.

“Thanks, did you make it?”

Silence, then a no.

“I’m so sorry, Madison. You were great, anyway. And I’m sorry about earlier, I was wrong, any guy would be lucky to got to the dance with you.” That was hard, I don’t usually apologise first.

“No, you were right, it was a rumor.” She’s holding back some information. But I can't read minds over the phone.

“Oh, well I’ll see you tomorrow. Hey, wanna come to my place friday after school and watch some chick flicks and nom on some popcorn?” I ask.

“Sure, I’ll be there.” She says, cheerily.

“Great.”

“Oh, and Vivian?”

“Yeah?” Here it comes, the confession.

“Nothing, have a good night.”

That was awkward. And strange. Madison is usually very forward about her feelings or any experience. I decide not to think about it, and head to my bathroom. I always wash my face before bed, and pluck my eyebrows. Seriously, it’s like a jungle up there. I have a new face wash. “Posh Pomegranate.” It’s a light scent, like an orchard in the spring.

I take out my phone and chat with Fiona. Fiona is my best friend from acting camp last summer and the last 3 summers before that. She is the most amazing person I know. Compared to Madison, she’s a goddess. Don’t get me wrong. I love Madison, but Fiona’s my best friend in the world. When life is tough, I know I can count on her. I know I’m all chese now, but she’s really great.

V1v1an: Hey

Fifi2daMAX: Hey u!!

V1v1an: What's up?

Fifi2daMAX: Just landed role as Maria in West Side Story!!!

V1v1an: Ugh, apparently I just bombed my audition, even though I thought I got Juliet.

Fifi2daMAX: Aww, who’d ya get?

V1v1an: Lady Capulet...I was shocked, I expected Juliet after I belted Phantom of the Opera.

Fifi2daMAX: That’s a pretty good role, and I bet they wanted a less talented kid with a “softer”

voice, because they needed a chance to improve.

V1v1an: Sure, gtg, bedtime.

Fifi2daMAX: Kay, bai.

Chapter Four: Thursday

My alarm, beeping as usual. I stepped out of bed, but I’m so wrapped in my polka dotted blankets, that my legs tangle and I fall like a tree that an axe was taken to. I scrape my arm as I go down, and bite my lip. When I get to the bathroom, I am, of course out of foundation. But, that was doable, because I don’t have acne. But, as soon as I finished getting ready, Marabelle spilled her crepe mix on my new red peasant blouse.

By then I knew what this day was shaping up to be. I also knew I had to stop it. My second wardrobe option was a brown leather jacket and gold hoops. I got dressed, and made it to the Bus just in time to realize I had left my lunch, and my art project.

Madison got on at her stop, but sat with Heather Reynolds from my English instead. My face burned. Just when we got to school, I tripped on the last step and fell. Let me finish. I fell into the arms of Sean Hamilton. It was certainly that story book moment. Except the moment after it was an awkward moment of me scrambling out of his arms and nodding curtly. I only know that one moment was all I could think about all day.

During Drama, I slipped off the edge of the stage and sprained my ankle, writhing in pain as I limped to the nurse’s to get it bandaged. I was unusually quiet for the rest of class, though I’m sure Mrs. Gordon mistook that for annoyance at being chosen for a lesser role.

Biology was painfully awkward. Sean trying to make conversation, but every topic came back around to the bus incident. Also, I swear my shirt was slowly riding down just enough so you could see the top of my bra. As well as Arthur Douglas turning around and flirting with me right in front of Sean, who was very quiet. It really bugs me that I can’t read his thoughts. But to recap, my whole Biology experience was mortifying. Sometimes I hate being a girl, but then I realize if I wasn’t a girl I’d be a guy so it all evens out.

Math was strangely enough the best part of my day, but then again, thats probably cause it was the same as always. Warm Up, grade homework, get new assignment and work on that until class ends. Ms.Lawing was pretty chipper, and she let us listen to music for the last 10 minutes of class.

Finally, I have literature, and yes it’s different from English. I spent the whole 90 minutes I was in the torture chamber doing vocabulary. My mind was elsewhere, wandering among the brains of the troubled students, as well as the other intelligent students, I didn't need the answers, but I was too lazy to think so I just picked their answers off the top of their heads.

When I got home I was literally over joyed I didn't have to go to F21. I had finished all my homework in Lit. so I slipped on some fluffy socks and drank some tea while watching I Love Lucy on my laptop. Dinner was pea soup, but I only nibbled at the side of cheese bread and had a thimble full of soup.

Then my parents set in on me.

“Vivian, you’re awfully quiet today.” Mom says, nudging my Dad.

“Ah, yes, Vivian, what’s wrong?” He asks, giving my mom a look.

“Nothing, I’m just tired.” I say.

“Has something happened at school?” Mom questions further.

“Um, no. I just had a bad day, and to answer your next question, no, no I would not like to elaborate on that.” I say, the sassiness of my stature overflowing into my mom’s own bubble of warm, happy, motherliness. She rolls her eyes at me.

“So are you looking forward to the play?” She asks.

“I suppose so.” I answer.

“Well tell me when tickets are on sale, I’d like to purchase them as soon as possible.”

I nod.

The tickets for SAAE are available to the public as well as the students and their families.The whole town buys tickets, and my mom always sits in the first 2 rows, because she’s obsessed with having a great seat. She also brings flowers, and claps the loudest. I need my mom’s support, she’s the main reason I started at SAAE. Ever since I was a little girl, everything my friends were doing like rock climbing or horseback riding my mom would sign me up for.

I always thought it was to indulge her spoiled baby girl, but she said it was because she never found what she really wanted to do, and she wanted to make sure I try all my interests to find my true passion, so I could have a fulfilling and successful career.

I love my mom, but sometimes she’s a tad overprotective of me, her youngest child. Like when I was 6, the time I learned to ride my bike, she wrapped my hands in gauze before I fell down, just so that if I did, I wouldn’t scrape them. Or when I was 12, and texting my friend Sam on my phone. She just leaned over, looked at the screen and had said

“Is Sam a boy or a girl?”

“It’s short for Samantha.” I had answered.

But I’m glad to have her, I know nobody will love me longer than she will, and nobody but her will tuck me in at night, even when she thinks I’m already asleep.

Chapter Five: Friday

 I’m waiting for the bus when a car drives up to the curb. It’s Sean.

“Hello?” I say.

“Hey, it’s Sean.” He answers.

“Um, can I help you?” I ask.

“You can let me give you a ride.”He says, his voice persuasive and charming.

I climb into the red porsche, and then I hear a voice calling. “Hey, are you getting on or not?” I snap back to reality. That was nice while it lasted, but it can’t continue. Having a crush isn’t really on my agenda, and daydreaming is one of the easiest ways to lose GPA points.

I climb aboard and take the first seat available. The student sharing the seat with me is wearing a gray hoodie, and their face is towards the window, and tapping on a phone screen. Man hands. Well, it's a guy, maybe I should say hello. Would that be awkward? Oh please, that’s ridiculous, I’ll just say hi, and be done. Easy. Oh, I’ll read his mind, maybe he’s thinking the same thing. I listen hard at the back of his hoodie. Nothing. He’s not sleeping. Only one person I know who I can’t read. It can’t be.

Then the gray hoodie turns around and says “Hey.”

“Um, hi.”

“Where are you off too?”Sean asks. I can’t help it. I grin.

“I go where the wind carries me.” I say, dramatically.

“How poetic.” Sean says. We laugh.

“ And where would you be going fine sir?” I ask.

“Wherever M'lady pleases.” Sean bows, his dark eyebrows knit as he looks up at me through his honey brown bangs. We laugh again. I like how it sounds.

Before I know it, it’s time to get off, and I curtsy to him and he bows to me. I walk off towards my locker. I trip three times on my way, just thinking about Sean. Madison sneaks up on me like a lion on the savannah.

“Boo!” She yells.

“Ahh, crap!” I shout, dropping my books. She guffaws as I grab them up again.

“What’s up? I didn't see you on the bus today, I had to ride with Yvette’s friend Emily.” Madison shudders.

“Um, well, I sat in the front row.” I say, not really wanting to reveal the identity of my seat buddy.

“Oh, so when is the first rehearsal?” She asks.

“After school today.” I say, as we arrive in Drama.

Mrs. Gordon’s room is painted a lemon yellow, and all the desks are in a square shape, with hers in the middle. When we are answering questions, she swivels around in it, pointer finger extended, and when she stops, whoever her finger if pointing at has to answer the question.

I’ve been called on a total of 0 times,so apparently the foundation of the building is a little off. Today Mrs.Gordon is like a stormy cloud in mario karts. If she speaks to you, it’s not something good, and you’ll leave feeling just as lousy. I approach her cautiously, and wait patiently until she sees me.

“What, Vivian?” she says, shortly.

“Uh, I was wondering what’s the matter?” I ask, consoling her.
“ Vivian, what would make you assume that something is wrong?” She asks, eyes flaring.

“Well, it’s been 15 minutes since the bell rung, and you haven't started teaching, I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just concerned.” The way you phrase things has a powerful effect on the way people respond.

“Oh, Vivian, I’m just upset because Mr.Gallant, you know--”

“Yvette’s dad.” I finish.

“Oh, you know?” She asks me.

“Um, no.” I say, suddenly wary that I had been reading her thoughts.

“He paid the school money to make me give Juliet to Yvette. I’m sorry Vivian, I really wanted you to have that part, you were perfect for it.” She says.

“Wow, that sucks, I’m sorry, Mrs. Gordon, but It’s okay, I’m totally cool. with Lady Capulet.” I finish, and she smiles.

Oh how I hate, hate, hate Yvette, she steals everything from me, as soon as I do something she overshadows me, or takes it away. At least she’ll never take Madison away from me. Madison is the best…

Let me rephrase that I hate Madison too. At this very moment she is talking and laughing with Yvette and the other populars. Madison’s eyes wander over to me but snap quickly back to Yvette’s in shame. My face burns, I’d like nothing better than to go over there and, and… she’s getting up. Madison walks over, her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes down.

“Why were you glaring at me, Vivian?” She asks, Stupidly.

“Uh, why were you consorting with Yvette and her clones?” I ask, mimicking her.

“Well, It’s just talking, and she’s not that bad.” She says, eyes still pointed at the ground.

“Not that bad? For your information, She bought her way in to the musical.” I whisper shout at her, not wanting to make a spectacle.

“I know.” She whisper shouts back.

“And?” I force more out of her.

“She just told me her dad could get me a part. Isn’t that great?” She says, smugly.

I’m speechless, my mouth is closed, but I’m yelling so loud my throat is dry and achey. My eyes water but I push the tears back, my heart sinks, and I ball my fists. Madison gives me a sorry-not sorry face, and turns back to the snarling pack of demon barbies. So much for our sleepover tonight.

When I get to the play rehearsal, Madison is sitting with the demon barbies, and the only chairs available are next to the AV people. The AV people are known as the people who barely made it in to SAAE. I usually feel bad for them, but when you’re sitting next to them it’s different. Right now, I feel like I barely made it into SAAE.

I’m not going to tell you anything more about the musical anymore, I’ll just summarise for you. We went over the calendar, and then read through the script, where Yvette stumbled over every single line, and I read Lady Capulet’s perfectly. Madison was just ensemble, and her one line: “Stop, No!” sounded like turd. After that I went to F21, and sold 5 items, which was a monumental let down after my usual 15 items per day, but Ms.Gunn wasn’t there so I guess it could have been worse. 

  Chapter Six: Saturday

  I woke up with my head draped over the bed, and my sheets on the floor. Yesterday was the worst day of my life, who’da known what a selfish, cruel person Madison could be. Maybe I was just putting her up on the pedestal of greatness because I didn't have many other friends.

I’m going to make some, though. I’ve always wanted a big group of friends who I have a lot in common with. I’m gonna snap out of this right now. I hate being upset about something I can’t do anything about. I pop out of bed and take a shower.

The steamy air of the bathroom is calming and helps clear my mind. I’ll talk to Bethany, that girl in Drama, she doesn't seem to have many friends, and she’s really smart and she’s a great dancer… I don’t know. I guess it will just happen. So much for the water closet of enlightenment. I pull on my robe and go downstairs.

Much to my surprise, when I get down stairs, my sister is already up, making pancakes, and talking to somebody in the kitchen. I crouch down in spy mode, creeping around the breakfast nook and under the bar. I peek around the corner, and then scurry back around the corner, through the breakfast nook, and up the stairs.

I get dressed in a light pink blouse with golden cuffs at the wrists and some dark blue denim jeans. I blowdry my hair, and apply some basic makeup. I unplug my cell phone and casually walk down the stairs, to the kitchen.

“Marabelle, where’s mom?” I improvise

“Oh, she’s not here right now, Viv, but somebody else is.” She giggles.