The Taming (2 page)

As soon as my lines were done I was Carrie in the Stephen King movie again, the 1976 one with Sissy Spacek, not the 2002 poseur version. I’d been YouTubing the pig’s blood scene ever since I got the part. Red rivers of blood stream daintily down Sissy Spacek’s stunned face until it eventually obliterates her shoulders, her arms, her prom dress. Poor thing, she thought her life had changed too.

“Katie?” It was Travis, our,
my
, director. I turned to him. “Remember that by the time you get to ‘
I’ll see thee hanged on Sunday first’
you have to have established yourself as loud, crude. Katherina is a wild animal that has to be tamed. Give Petruchio something to tame.”

Josh turned a paler shade of grey.

“Don’t let this ‘tameness’ be your Achilles’ heel, Katie,” Ms. Cooper interrupted. “You are rage and power personified, you—”

“Will love it,” I whispered.

“Pardon, dear?” asked Ms. Cooper, who kept forgetting that she was not the director.

“Nothing, excuse me.” I turned to Travis. “I’m ready to peel wallpaper, sir.”

Travis nodded, pleased with himself and, more importantly, with me. Travis
saw
me. He usually did, but now, because he was a director and I was on stage, everybody looked. Everybody saw me. And somehow, in the seeing, the horror-movie machinery dissolved. There was just me, and everybody looking at me.

I’d spent a lot of time and a whole lot of effort trying to blend into the walls in my last couple of schools. Being invisible kept me safe in the hallways
and
with the last two of Mom’s boyfriends. But that was over now. I was starring in
The Taming of the Shrew
and it hit me that, at least on opening night, just about everyone in the school would see me. And, sweating on stage, waiting for Josh to recover his lines, it also hit me that being invisible was good, but maybe now being
visible
was going to be better … so, so, so much better.

Chapter Two

“I
’ll prompt you,” Lisa said. “Wherever in the script you need or want. No probs.”

We were standing on the dark and empty stage, by ourselves. Everyone had gone home long ago.

“I mean it. I memorized the whole thing.” Lisa jumped down and plunked herself into a seat in the second row, right behind the place where Travis always sat.

“What?! You did what?”

“Oh, get over yourself.” I could barely see her. “You know I do that sort of thing without breaking a sweat.” She threw her legs over the back of the chair in front of her. “You also know that this school bores the snot out of me—almost as much as the other schools.” Lisa sighed dramatically in the soupy darkness. “It’s just that, for better or worse, I have you and Travis here. And you two dickheads are deep into this Stratford fantasy of yours, so … I offer you both my services.” She crossed her arms. Or I think she did, it was hard to tell, even squinting.

“Go ahead, Olivier, pick something!”

“Olivier was a
male
actor,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but he was the best, right?”

I wanted to be sure of something. I walked over to a stool at stage right and inhaled the auditorium, the velvet quiet. I didn’t need or want to review anything as much as I wanted to check to see if what I had felt was real. Up here, right now, it was real.
I was real
. And it felt good.

“Something happens to you up there and it’s nuclear,” Lisa said. “Even I wouldn’t have believed it unless I’d seen it for myself, and I worship your dainty size-nines. There is more to you than meets the eye, Katie Rosario.”

“Shakespeare?” I asked.

“
Pirates of the Caribbean
.”

“Same diff,” we both said at once. Friends did that, said stupid, ordinary stuff like that at the same time, and Lisa was my friend. For years, I’d driven strictly by myself. From the beginning of middle school on, it was easier to be uncluttered, cleaner, not needing anybody. And that was good.

But this was better.

Travis and Lisa, my gang, my group, smartest thing I’d ever done. They loved the girl they thought they knew. And I loved them right back. As best I could.

Lisa stood up. “Give me lines 154 to 160 in the capitulation speech at the end. She’s tamed, drunk the Kool-Aid, Petruchio is her prince and she’s going to behave.”

I had to search for several minutes. Unlike Lisa, I hadn’t even committed my part, let alone the entire play, to memory.

“Remember how adorable ‘His Hotness,’ your Petruchio, is, if that helps.”

“Poor Josh!” we both said.

I turned to the stool and saw my prince.

Too little payment for so great a debt
.
Such duty as the subject oweth to her husband
.
And not obedient to his honest will
,
What is she but a foul contending rebel
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?
I am ashamed that women are so simple
.

And then Lisa clapped, and I believed me. Not as Katie, of course, but I believed that as Katherina I would find myself a “loving lord,” and if I believed it, I could make anyone believe it. Yup, pathetic little Katie Rosario could do all this and more. Lisa was still clapping. And I was sure.

Chapter Three

I
drove up to the school. There were lots of cars inching along the road, and as I turned into the driveway I was almost forced to stop to avoid hitting students walking along the sidewalk. Moving slower I drove through the parking lot, looking for a space, avoiding cars dropping kids off. The last thing I wanted to do was start my first day with a fender-bender. First impressions matter, and that wasn’t the one I wanted to make.

It looked like there wasn’t a spot left anywhere. I should have got here earlier. I was cutting it way too close. A late slip wouldn’t be as bad as a traffic accident, but still, not the best start, and—there was a place!

I cranked the wheel and pulled the car into the empty spot. I turned the mirror to check out my hair—it looked good … really good—and then straightened my tie. Everything was good. I climbed out.

I knew I had to report to the office. I just didn’t know where the office was. Or even how to get into the school. There were double doors at the end of the parking lot. I walked over and tried one—it was locked. I pulled the second door. It was locked too. A guy pushed open the door from the inside.

“Thank you,” I said.

“No problem. You a supply teacher?” he asked.

“No, I’m a new student. Why would you think I was a teacher?”

“A
supply
teacher. I know all the actual teachers here.”

“Why would you think I was
any
sort of teacher?”

“That car you drove in with. Students don’t usually drive high-end Audis.”

“And teachers here do?”

He snorted. “Not usually, but teacher’s still a safer bet than student. And you’re not dressed like a student either.” He gestured towards my tie and jacket.

“Oh … this … I just didn’t know … isn’t there any dress code here?”

“Yeah, but it says basically no bandanas, nothing with swear words, don’t show too much skin—nothing about wearing a jacket and tie.”

I was just so used to having to dress up for school that it never occurred to me it would be different here at a public school, but of course it was.

“Just trying to make a good impression,” I said.

“You dress like that and you’ll make an
impression
, but I don’t think it will be so good.”

I almost said something about the way he was dressed—like he’d rolled a drunk and stolen his clothes—but I didn’t. No point in alienating somebody in the first minute of my first day. Besides, he was probably right.

I took off the jacket and started to pull off the tie when the bell rang.

“Great … first day and I’m already late,” I said.

“That’s first bell. You still have five minutes to get to class,” he said. “Where is your first class?”

“Actually I don’t know yet. I’m supposed to report to the office … I don’t even know where that is.”

“Go up those stairs,” he said, pointing down a corridor. “One flight up and turn to your right. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” I paused. “Could you do me a favour?”

“Depends on the favour.”

“I don’t want to carry these around and I don’t have a locker to put them in and I need to get to the office fast. Could you just put them in my car for me?” I held out the keys. “You can give me back the keys at lunch. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria … lunch can be on me.” It would be good to have somebody to eat with the first day.

“Sure, I can do that,” he said.

I handed him the clothes and the keys. He held the keys up. “Do you always go around handing the keys to a fifty-thousand-dollar car to perfect strangers?”

“Come on, you can’t really be perfect, can you?” I joked.

“Depends on who you ask. There are a couple of teachers here who think I’m a perfect idiot. But still, aren’t you afraid I’ll just take off?”

“I have insurance for car theft.”

“How about if I just take it out for a joyride?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Be my guest. There’s a full tank. Just make sure you find a parking spot, and don’t change the settings on my sound system.”

He laughed. “And if I banged it up a little?”

“My insurance also covers collision and damage. No sweat.”

At least it was no sweat for me. My father might have had a different opinion, but I really didn’t care that much what he thought—it wasn’t like his opinion of me could get much worse.

“By the way,” he said, “I’m Danny.”

“Evan,” I said, holding out my hand to shake.

He looked surprised. What was he expecting, a fist-bump, a high-five, a hug? He shifted the clothes into his other hand and we awkwardly shook.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said.

“Yeah, real pleasure,” he said. There was a smirk on his face.

“I’ll see you at lunch, and thanks, man.”

“No problem. Thanks for the car. With any luck I should be back from my joyride by lunch,” he said.

He was looking for my reaction. I wasn’t going to give him one—well, at least not the one he expected.

“Like I said, as long as you don’t screw around with the sound system, that works for me. See you later.”

I caught a glimpse of his expression—surprise, maybe even a little bit of shock—before I turned and headed in the direction of the office.

I got up from the seat against the wall and walked over to the counter.

“Excuse me,” I called out to the secretary, “isn’t the headmaster free yet?”

“Headmaster?” She looked as though I’d said something amusing. “Do you mean the
principal
?”

“Yes, yes, the principal. I’ve been waiting almost an hour.”

“He’s very busy and—” She stopped as the door with “Principal” on it opened, and we both turned. Two students—younger than me—came out, followed by a man who I assumed was the head … the principal. None of them looked too happy.