Pride & Princesses (14 page)

    
‘He said my name!’

    
‘Oh, please, c’mon, we gotta go...’

    
We ran down the corridor to the school auditorium.

    
All the serious PA students were warming up at the bar and a few people were hanging out backstage, going over scenes for
Rocco and Julie.

    
When try outs were about to start and we were waiting in our seats, Teegan said to me, ‘so, did you manage to get your hooks into Mark?’

   
‘Not exactly,’ I replied.

   
‘Why not? I saw him talk to you at lunch. He’s definitely open to it. I’m sure he’d date you, even just for one night.’

    
I ignored her insinuation that I wouldn’t be worth dating more than once.

   
‘That’s not true,’ Freya said with the phoney compassion she was renowned for. ‘He’s definitely into me,’ she smiled patronizingly. ‘But you never know, if you wait your turn once I’ve discarded him...’

    
I walked over to Mouche.

    
‘Never mind,’ Mouche said. ‘It’s payback time.’

    
Mouche and I huddled together in our tights and oversized sweaters and ballet shoes. I have had loads of pairs of those pink shoes over the years and so has Mouche. But Mouche is not sentimental. I am. I have all my shoes displayed along the walls of my bedroom, along with the programs of every play I ever attended, when my mother and I went to New York. We saw every show on Broadway, using Daddy’s credit card before he had it blocked off.
   

   
‘Here. So, you get to write up today’s entry, should be interesting.’ Mouche whispered, placing the pink diary in my tote.

   
‘I’ve decided we take it turnabout; you get this week – then, in the end, we combine the knowledge of everything we have learned from the first ten dates.’

 
 
‘You’re hopeful. I kind of messed up at lunch. So I think we can safely say we will be attending
Fall Fling
alone.’

  
‘Give it a few days.
 
Teegan is a piece of work.
 
If Mark has any brains he’ll work that out; meanwhile we need to re-focus. I think these old guides are really good. If nothing else, they might show us what not to do. Are you ready?’

   
‘Yep,’ I say, ‘I’m a bit nervous.’

   
‘Don’t be, you’re fab. I’m so excited. I love auditions when I’m not doing them. You’re going to be amazing.’

 
  
Mouche could be humble like that. She really is an excellent performer when she deigns to grace the stage. I guess she just finds more joy in being behind the scenes these days, and for this production, she will get full credit for design and choreography as well.

   
The strobe lighting was being tested as together we sat in the auditorium in the semi-dark, our new bags on the empty chairs beside us, a picture of a fake universe on the roof making the theatre appear like a wondrous planetarium. Our favourite teachers, Mr Frames and Miss Love were busy organizing the order of auditionees.

     
Mr Frames said, ‘oops, wrong show’ into the microphone when he mixed up Mr Sparks’ directions and generally acted uncoordinated in front of Miss Love. Then he finally projected the right slides for the background: modern day images, Los Angeles streets, a mock version of Marina Del Rey, The Grove, Santa Monica Pier.

    
‘How does it look people?’ Mr Sparks asked via microphone.

    
‘Awesome,’ some wish-to-be called out sarcastically.
 

    
As we turned our heads, we overheard Freya discussing possible junior prom themes with Jet Campbell.

   
‘I changed the theme because we need a couple of boys on the dance committee.
 
We’re not sure whether to do an inspired Bond theme or ...’ Tory, meanwhile, looked intently at Jet but he seemed to be bored with her attention and lit up when he saw Mouche.

  
‘Mmm,’ Jet said, looking in the direction of Mouche and me. He even took a step back when Teegan tried to paw his arm. Perhaps he had better taste than I imagined.

   
The soccer team, led by Alex and Tom, arrived and sat behind us. They began talking very loudly about how they were only here because Mr Sparks (they said his name in mocking high tones) had promised them extra credit and time off to do what really matters – play soccer.

   
We felt slightly outnumbered but refused to be intimidated. Watching straight men audition is not pretty. The director, Mr Sparks, was preparing his opening speech (always a classic) and testing the microphone with a little tap of his fingers.

   
Ethan Mandel was rather begrudgingly warming up his fingers on the piano (I have to admit I love to hear him play). He was practising his ‘incidental theme’ composition and Mouche and I were whispering about the content of today’s notes.

  
‘Mmm... this really is a nice shot,’ Mouche whispered, pasting the first photograph of Mark Knightly, taken on her cell phone, into the initial pages of the Diary, along with the one of Mark and Jet arriving at LAX
 
and a combined photograph of the
Sunrise Soccer Team .
Teegan looked over as if she sensed something was up and not just a change of hairstyle.

   
‘I hope this isn’t stalking. This could be misconstrued as evidence at some kind of teenage stalker of the year convention. You don’t think it could fall into the wrong hands and make us seem more viperous than the Princesses, do you?

   
‘No, it’s not for public consumption, yet. Anyway, leave it to Teegan, her nasty side is going to be revealed without too much help from us...’

   
By late afternoon, Mr Sparks was getting more and more frustrated. Most of the boys refused to take ‘the process’ seriously. Only one of them could really sing, dance and act; Peter Williamson, no surprise there.

   
‘I wish we were doing a musical,’ Peter said, rolling his eyes as he sat down next to Mouche, his scene study partner.

   
‘Me too,’ Mouche agreed tolerantly.

   
By now Ethan Mandel, was secretly swigging some suspicious liquid out of a flask he brought from home which he referred to as ‘cough syrup.’ In any case, his playing just got better and better, to the point where he didn’t want to stop even when everyone was talking. Rumor abounded by 6pm that the silver ‘flask’ contained absinthe (wildly popular in Paris at the turn of last century for containing hallucinogenic properties).

    
By 6pm the preliminary list of names was read aloud: the last two boys and the last two girls standing; ‘okay, now can we have Phoebe, Freya, Peter and ...Tobias...’

    
Miss Tartt spoke the words with a flick of her dancer’s skirt, ‘the parts would be finalized and placed on the bulletin board next week.’

   
‘I have an announcement to make,’ Mr Sparks said, ‘...this will be my last play here. As some of you know, I recently completed my PHD in Elizabethan studies...yes, you may applaud.’

    
A few of the drama geeks clapped tepidly.

   
‘Thank you...really that’s not necessary. Anyway, I’ve accepted a post at the Royal Academy next year, so let’s make this production the best ever.’

    
Everyone groaned. The jocks because they knew they had an easy option and the drama students because we were used to Mr Spark’s bizarre theatrical ways and would really miss his enthusiasm.

   
Mouche rolled her eyes next to me and whispered, ‘go get ‘em!’

   
It was my turn for a recall even though I wasn’t certain which part I was up for.

   
‘I don’t want you to impose character just yet,’ Mr Sparks spoke loudly to justify the fact that he was still in the process of stealing our teen dramas in order to complete his ‘original masterpiece...a comic and heartbreaking journey through teen world titled:
Rocco and Julie – a tragedy in three acts!’

    
When the boys came back to the raked seats and Jet and his group sat behind me, Alex pulled my ponytail like a twelve year old.

   
‘I’m surprised you didn’t try to snap her bra-strap as well, you moron,’ Teegan, sitting beside me, said loudly. It was suddenly an unlikely alliance, almost sisterly. Teegan seemed to be coming over to our side.
 
I gave her a hesitant smile and she gave me a truce smile in return. I’m kind of glad Mouche didn’t see me do that, though. I caught Teegan peering over my shoulder to see what I was writing and I snapped the pages shut.

   
Alex had wrecked my concentration, I began reading over the part of Julie in my seat, waiting for Mr Sparks to say, ‘
thank you, Freya. Phoebe, you may begin...’
and noticing Jet notice Mouche as she discussed dance moves with the teacher-choreographer for the first scene.

   
When Mouche sat down in the stands, as I was heading onstage for my audition, she suddenly whooped and hollered like a one woman fan club, breaking the dating rules and not caring what anyone else thought.
 
By then, Mark was sitting quietly in the corner. He looked unimpressed about the possibility of being roped into the roles of stage manager and understudy.

  
As I glanced at my script, I have to tell you, although it was based on the original, it was quite different; from scene one, it wasn’t quite what everyone expected. Mr Spark’s version of
Romeo and Juliet
starts at a dance, in a school gym, with starlight for a rooftop...

from Act I:
ROCCO AND JULIE

   
Music plays.
 
ROCCO holds out his hand to Julie at the party where they first meet. Julie is dressed in high fashion, Rocco wears street.

 
NARRATOR

   
Our tale of two star crossed lovers begins with two families...both from opposite ends of Los Angeles. Rocco lives in a trailer park and Julie resides in Bel Air. Rocco and Julie see each other across the dance floor, Rocco’s best friend Tyrone is with him.

TYRONE