by Wendy Mass
“I dare you to eat this!” Amelia said, holding up fresh frog legs marinated in balsamic vinaigrette.
“We have to go,” Sara answered, grabbing her cousin by the arm. She didn’t talk all the way home, but that was because she was in shock. When her father opened the door with his usual big, goofy grin, she was petrified she would tell him. She was afraid that if she did, her parents would get a divorce and it would be her fault. Sara thinks Amelia actually likes the fact that she won’t talk to anyone else. Amelia sees it as the ultimate rebellion, which it isn’t.
Megan is the last person to get to Ms. Connor’s class. She can still taste the cupcake left over in her molars. It makes her happy. She is unaware that Josie is staring at her, wondering what accounts for the warm pink glow on her face. She would never imagine doing what Josie is silently accusing her of. She has a much too healthy appreciation of her body. Her body is her temple and she treats it as such. Every night she fully exfoliates all the dead skin on her arms and legs with a pumice stone. Then she liberally applies watermelon-scented body lotion, paying careful attention to her hands. When she was ten, her favorite baby-sitter told her that a woman’s age as she gets older is revealed by her hands. Megan figures it’s never too soon to start protecting her skin, especially for an actress/ singer like herself.
Greg Adler raises his hand to share his Yiddish expression, but changes his mind midway. He hates knowing that everyone in the class is aware of his religion. Not that he is ashamed of it, but he doesn’t like being set apart from the others. Sure, he knows a lot of Yiddish expressions. His grandparents still speak it sometimes. Mostly he knows the curses. There are a lot of curses. Sometimes he’ll recite a curse in Yiddish to his younger brother, but then he feels bad and tells him it was actually a compliment. The one that Josie just said about the fields of intestines is one of his grandmother’s favorites. If he told her a girl said it in class she’d be horrified.
Katy Parker scans the crowd at the fire drill. She knows Josie and Megan are in Ms. Connors’s class now. Katy has world religions next period, and since she’s usually the first person there, she knows everyone who is in the previous period. Ms. Connors is easy to spot because she is one of the tallest female teachers in the school. Katy makes her way over and stands a few feet away until Josie comes to get her. Sometimes being found is easier than finding.
“C’mon, Sara,” Amelia says, pulling her cousin into the empty courtyard of the cafeteria. “You owe me.”
Sara shakes her head and firmly plants her feet. “What do I owe you for?”
“I’m sure you owe me for something. Why won’t you do it?”
“It’s not worth getting caught.”
“It is to me. What if I promise I’ll leave the money for whatever we take?”
Sara narrows her eyes.
Amelia grabs Sara’s hand. “C’mon.”
By a combination of pushing and dragging, Amelia gets Sara to accompany her into the cafeteria. From one of the tables, Amelia picks up a plastic garbage bag that had housed someone’s oversized lunch. She hands it to Sara. Once at the freezer, Amelia needs only ten seconds to expertly jiggle the lock open with her school ID card. She grabs the ice cream sandwiches with both hands and thrusts them at Sara before reaching in a second time. Just then they hear footsteps running through the cafeteria. Amelia hurriedly closes the freezer door and hears the lock click back into place. She motions for Sara to hide behind the counter but finally has to grab her and push her to the floor.
Peeking over the rim, Amelia sees the four girls arrive at the freezer door. She feels the anger rise inside her. This is her gig, no one else’s. To Sara’s horror, Amelia pops up and says something to the girls about gluttony. Sara has no choice but to stand up too. Her hands are freezing from gripping the sandwiches. When Megan asks her for some ice cream, she really wants to answer her. She always liked Megan and her friends. She didn’t think Josie was that great in the fall musical, but she liked how she was fearless on the stage. But Sara doesn’t respond to Megan’s question. In fact, she won’t say more than five words at a time to anyone other than Amelia for another three weeks. Not until her father comes into her room, sits down on her bed, and begins to cry. After that, there’ll be no shutting her up.
Zoey’s eyes well up with tears when she sees Sara so utterly unable to answer Megan’s question. A second ago this whole thing was hysterical, but now Zoey remembers the time in fourth grade when a group of girls surrounded her on the playground and taunted her because she wouldn’t answer their questions. What time is it, Zoey? What’s your middle name? What color is your underwear? Now she can feel the tears coming and is pretty sure her friends assume they are tears of laughter. Zoey has always felt nothing but loathing for that little pale child who couldn’t stand up for herself on the playground. But now, this very instant, that hate is replaced with a new forgiveness. Zoey has Sara to thank for that. She never will, though, because she’s just not the type. But at graduation, Zoey will clap extra loudly when Sara goes up to receive her diploma.
Grant Brawner arrives back in school just in time to hear the bell ring to end sixth period. He grabs his books from his locker and makes his way to his U.S. government class. He can’t stop thinking about Bobby at the maternity ward. One minute he looked like he was about to pass out, the next he was totally in control and helping Sherri get comfortable. Grant stayed while Bobby called Sherri’s parents and the couple in Miami who were going to adopt the baby. Bobby told them Sherri had gone into labor early and they should get up here. It struck Grant as the most mature conversation he had ever heard a fellow teenager hold. He felt bad for not having been nicer to Bobby. If only Bobby weren’t such a dweeb. He vowed from now on he’d be nicer to people. He gets a whiff of BO as he hurries down the hall and realizes with disgust that it’s him. Bobby had him going so crazy that now he smells like a locker room.
Grant is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice he bumps into someone until his books go flying. Of all people, it’s that girl Josie who’s always following him. He’s so out of it he doesn’t even know if he apologized. Heck, he figures it probably made her day no matter what he said or didn’t say.
During the five minutes before seventh period, the guidance office sees more traffic than it has all year. One by one the students file in, heads down, and drop off their group therapy forms. Rob Taylor isn’t afraid that someone will see him there because the form isn’t for himself, it’s for his sister, Josie. His wounded heart is too fresh for him to realize that it might help him to talk with others who have been through the same thing. And he fully intends to change Anne’s mind. But when his teacher handed out the brochures last period he was struck by how well Josie might benefit from one of the groups. He rereads the description one more time before laying his form in the basket on top of the others.
Self-Esteem
Our level of self-esteem affects virtually everything we think, say, and do. It affects how we see the world and our place in it. It affects how others in the world see and treat us. It affects the choices we make — choices about what we will do with our lives and with whom we will be involved. It affects our ability to both give and receive love. And, it affects our ability to take action to change things that need to be changed. Accepting who we are helps us develop a healthy self-esteem and can make a huge impact on how we live our lives. A person with a healthy self-esteem is aware of her potential, knows the many facets that make her unique, and values and respects herself. More importantly, however, he or she knows that her imperfections or inadequacies are not inherently bad, and they do not become overwhelming to the point that they completely define her value as a person. He or she knows that no one’s perfect — it’s human to have limitations and make mistakes.
Rob hopes he isn’t overstepping his bounds. But Josie always seems to know what’s best for him, so maybe it works both ways. And if she’s mad, he doesn’t have to tell her that he’s the one who signed her
up.
Anne Derkin watches from around the corner as Rob hurries out of the guidance office, his eyes straight ahead. Breaking up with him was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Her friends didn’t know what to say when she told them. Nobody understands her reasons. Sherri Haugen would understand. But she’s at a hospital now giving birth to a baby she never wanted and whom she’s going to hand over to strangers. Anne and Sherri were supposed to go to the University of Virginia together, but Sherri never got her application out. Now Anne is going alone. No one in Anne’s family had ever even thought about going to college. She won’t let anything derail her plans. Not even love. At least Rob is getting help from the guidance office. That makes her feel a little better.
2:20 P.M.– 3:30 P.M.
Chapter 7A: Josie
By the time I get to the auditorium my heart is still beating fast from my run-in with Grant. At first I can’t find Megan. Usually there are only twelve people in my drama class, but a lot of other people showed up for the audition. My hope is that they only did it to get out of their last class of the day and don’t really care about being in the play. Hopefully they’ll all be really bad. I finally sight Megan warming up on stage. I can hear her running through the vowel sounds in one long aaeeiioouu. I scramble up onto the stage and tell her about my encounter.
“So then what happened?” she asks.
“You mean after Grant said my name and the world became a little bit brighter?”
“Yeah,” she says dryly. “After that.”
“He walked away.”
Mr. Polansky instructs us to start our deep breathing exercises. In between breaths, Megan asks, “Have you ever had a real conversation with Grant? I’ve heard he isn’t the nicest guy in the world.”
I breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. “He was very nice when he bumped into me.”
Megan shrugs. The stage quickly fills up and I recognize most of the people from The King and I. Megan isn’t the only one wearing clothes that are a bit more Romeo and Juliet than twenty-first-century Florida. Two senior girls that I’ve never seen before at any of the drama activities hurry onto the stage. Mr. Polansky gives them a big smile.
Megan leans close and whispers, “Those girls used to be in all the plays before we got here.”
My stomach knots up. I hadn’t counted on fresh competition. Don’t they know how important this is to me?
“Okay, people,” Mr. Polansky says, stroking his new goatee. “We’re going to do a quick exercise before we start the auditions. This is what I want you to do. For the next five minutes you’re going to silently act out the full range of emotions. You will need to dig deep inside yourselves to pull out the proper memory or evoke the proper event. Don’t worry about what anyone else is doing. Ready? Anger!”
He does this during our regular drama class, so I’m used to it. I barely have enough time to narrow my eyes and look mad when he calls out, “Fear!”
That one’s easy. I picture the plane/satellite/tree/roof falling on me, and then cover my head with my arms and duck.
“Love!”
I straighten up and let my features go soft and moony. I picture me and Grant slow-dancing at the prom and almost lift up my arms for real. I glance over at Brad White and Jennifer Bloom, who think they’re very special because they have the same first names as another infinitely more famous acting couple. Their shining eyes reflect a longing that I’ve seen only in the movies. Instead of people, they are two magnets drawn together. I’m not the only one looking at them. Suddenly Brad moves closer to Jennifer and they start making out. Right there on the stage! Mr. Polansky gapes with the rest of us. Then he hurries toward the stage and starts clapping. For a minute I think he’s actually applauding them until I realize he’s trying to get them to stop.
Megan says loudly, “This is better than cable!”
Brad and Jennifer finally pull apart and seem surprised to find everyone staring at them. Maybe that’s what love is all about. It makes the rest of the world go away.
Jennifer’s cheeks are bright red.
“Um, sorry,” Brad says.
Mr. Polansky clears his throat and we face front again. “Remember people, this is just an exercise! Okay, now show me sadness.”
I immediately picture how I would feel if I had failed my driver’s test this morning. My face falls, my shoulders slump, and I stare down at the floor. Except now I feel stupid for feeling sad about that when there are so many real things in the world to be sad about. My grandmother once told me that being self-centered is part of being a teenager. She says everything “looms larger” at my age. Well, I’m ready for it to loom smaller already.
“All right,” Mr. Polansky says. “Now instead of having you audition for specific roles like in the fall, I’m going to have all the boys read for Romeo and all the girls for Juliet. I’ll decide which role would suit you best.”
Is he serious? I whip my head around to look at everyone else. No one else seems fazed by this announcement. Now my agreement with Megan never to try out for the same part won’t mean anything. Mr. Polansky directs us to line up backstage, where we’ll be called up one by one. I’m so flustered that I can’t move at first. The thought of someone who only wanted to try out for the nurse or Lady Montague winding up as Juliet is too awful to contemplate. My stomach tightens up.
“Josie,” Mr. Polansky says, startling me out of my daze. “Since you’re still onstage, why don’t you go first?”
I turn full circle and see that I am, in fact, the only person left onstage. I catch sight of Megan standing next to the curtain at stage right. She motions me forward with a big smile. Sure, she can smile, because she doesn’t really care about this play. At least by going first I won’t have anyone else’s performance to live up to. I slowly move to the front of the stage and Mr. Polansky reaches up and hands me a playbook. I take a deep breath and wait until he sits down in the front row. He nods at me and I imagine myself as Juliet, standing on her balcony, peering out at her only love.
“’Tis but thy name that is my enemy; thou art thyself, though not a Montague.” Oh my god am I doing okay? “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part —” Are those two senior girls watching me? “Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet —” Ilostmyplacewhatsthenextlineohright! “So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call’d, retain that dear perfection which he owes —” Did I pause too long? Am I talking too fast? “Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name which is no part of thee take all myself.” Whew!
When I finish I let my hand with the playbook in it fall to my side. Applause from backstage reaches me as Mr. Polansky scribbles some notes on his clipboard.
“Thank you, Josie,” he says, resting his clipboard on his knee. “That was very nice. You can come sit down here now.”
I nod, but can’t seem to make my feet obey. I honestly don’t want to get off the stage, but Mr. Polansky is already waving the next girl up. I’ve never been that nervous before. What’s wrong with me? I turn around to see one of the two seniors quickly approaching. She’s tall and blond and her skin is almost translucent. She holds out her hand and I place the playbook in it with a weak smile. I walk down the short flight of steps at the side of the stage as slowly as I dare. By the time I choose a seat a few rows behind Mr. Polansky, the girl is already beginning her speech. My spirits sink as I listen. She is really good. The bright stage lights hit her face in such a way that she seems almost lit up from inside. I wonder if I looked anything like that up there. After the girl finishes and the applause stops, Megan steps forward. She takes the playbill from the girl and looks uneasily at Mr. Polansky. I know she hasn’t rehearsed much. She reads through the piece a bit halfheartedly. I muster a big smile to urge her on, but she doesn’t really get into it. She looks at her feet as Mr. Polansky takes his notes.
Just as he puts his pen do
wn, Mrs. Lombardo from the school office enters from the side door. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her outside of the office before. She seems taller in the real world. She whispers something to Mr. Polansky, who then turns around to me. To me!
“Josie,” he says. “You’re wanted in the office.”
“Don’t worry, nothing’s wrong,” Mrs. Lombardo says, backing up toward the door.
“What’s going on?” Megan asks, hurrying down from the stage. I shake my head. “I have no idea. Maybe my mother forgot to sign the absence note from this morning?” Maybe Mrs. G saw me passing my physics homework to Jeff Grand. Or maybe I’m being honored for being a leaper? I tell Megan not to worry, that I’ll see her at Katy’s for the scavenger hunt. I run to catch up with Mrs. Lombardo, who is holding the door open for me.
“So, what’s going on?”
“Your mother called to say she’s on her way over.”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. Say, how did your driver’s test go this morning? I assume you passed. The students who fail usually don’t come back in for the day.”
“Yes, I passed.” Did the DMV call my mother to say they made a mistake? I knew it was too good to be true! If I have to take my test over maybe I can get a better picture taken. Mrs. Lombardo is being annoyingly cryptic. We reach the office and she takes her usual seat behind the desk. She gestures for me to sit on the bench against the wall.