Can True Love Survive High School?

by Natalie Standiford

  “Really? Too bad,” Dan said. “Well, see you girls at school.” He walked through the opening in the gate that separated the café's deck from the boardwalk, waving to his colleagues. Ramona grabbed Lina and they ran back toward the bench they had come from.

  “Look what you almost got us into!” Lina said. “You're too impulsive. You shouldn't have pushed me in front of him without a plan.”

  “Well, you could have said something and helped me out. You didn't open your mouth the whole time. You made me do all the work.”

  “We can't just throw ourselves at him,” Lina said. “We have to think carefully about what we're doing.”

  “You're right,” Ramona said. “This is a delicate operation. Tonight, before you go to sleep, pray to the Goddess of Girlpower to send you a brilliant idea. Say, ‘Oh mighty Isis, infuse me with your wisdom of love—’”

  “I'm not doing that,” Lina said.

  “I'll do it, then,” Ramona said. “You always make me do everything.”

  “Walker!” Lina called. She spotted him between classes the next afternoon, weaving through the hall toward her locker. She'd been looking for him all day. “I've got to ask you something. You had Modern World History last year, right? What did you do for your final project?”

  “What?” Walker looked surprised at her question. “Let me ask you something. What happened to you last night?”

  “Last night?” Lina didn't know what he was talking about. Did he mean why did she spend an hour before bed praying to Isis to send her a brilliant Dan plan? Probably not. How would he know about that?

  “Remember? I had people over?”

  Oh, yeah. She vaguely remembered him mentioning something about that in the newspaper office. After the run-in with Dan she completely forgot about it. But she never said she'd go—did she?

  “Walker, I'm sorry I missed your get-together,” Lina said. “I didn't think it was a big deal.”

  “It wasn't a big deal.” He seemed hurt. She couldn't understand why. Did the whole party hinge on her being there? “But you said you'd come. I was expecting you, that's all.”

  “I didn't say I'd come,” Lina said.

  “Yes, you did,” Walker said. “You said, ‘I'll see you later.’”

  Lina struggled to remember her exact words upon leaving the newsroom. Her mind hadn't been on Walker. She'd hardly heard anything he'd said. How could she remember her exact words, especially when they were so mundane? But she thought she could see where the mix-up was. “I didn't mean literally ‘I will see you later.’ I just meant, you know, ‘See you. Later.’ As in, good-bye?”

  “Oh.” Walker shifted his books from his hip to his chest. “I guess I misunderstood. Sorry. I thought you'd somehow turned into the kind of person who doesn't keep her word. But I was wrong. Good to know.”

  He walked away. Lina shook her head. What was that all about?

  8

  A Lady of the Theater

  To: mad4u

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: VIRGO: First you're in, then you're out … quit flip-flopping and make up your mind.

  * * *

  Mama, you've come back! Oh, Mama, I'm so glad you've come home safe and sound!” Audrey flung herself at M.C. as she came in from the supermarket, loaded up with shopping bags. Mads was beginning to miss the old Pop-Tart version of her sister. At least she talked like a real human then.

  M.C. struggled to the kitchen with Audrey wrapped around her. “You can let go, Audrey,” she said. “But guess what? The Method must really work, because you got the part, Little Mariah.”

  “What?” Mads cried.

  “What?!?” Audrey squealed. “I got the part! I did it! I did it! I got the part!” She hopped up and down, her braids bouncing. “I'm a real actress!”

  “Big shock,” Mads said. “Your mother is the playwright. You kind of had an in.”

  “Charles promised me he wouldn't play favorites, Mads,” M.C. said. “He swore he chose the best actors for each part.”

  “What about me?” Mads asked. “Am I doomed to walk the stage as Teen Mariah?”

  “They'd be mental to cast you,” Audrey said.

  “Audrey, that's not nice.” M.C. looked uncomfortable. “He hasn't cast that part yet, Mads. But … well, I wouldn't get your hopes up.”

  Mads wasn't surprised. She had really screwed up her audition. M.C. pulled a piece of paper from her bag and set it on the kitchen table. Then she started putting the groceries away.

  Mads snatched up the paper. It was the unfinished cast list. Sure enough, next to “Little Mariah” was written “Audrey Markowitz.” “Teen Mariah” was left blank. Mads scanned the list for Sean's name. No sign of it. She found the role of Buck, the boy who kisses Teen Mariah. That part was filled not by Sean but by someone named Damien Chopra. Whoever that was. But across from “Grown Mariah,” which was Mariah as a young woman, was a name Mads did recognize: Jane Cotham.

  Wo w. Sean's girlfriend was going to be in the play. As Mads' mother.

  Mads had heard about the kind of camaraderie that cropped up among actors on movie sets and in theater groups. That was what M.C. was hoping would develop between Mads and Audrey. Anyone in the play with Jane would probably get to know her pretty well. They'd spend hours together, sharing confidences, even secrets. They would talk about their boyfriends…. Think of all the things she could learn about Sean, if only she was in the play with Jane.

  Suddenly, Mads wanted to be in the play more than she'd ever wanted anything.

  Why did she have to screw up her audition so badly?

  At least her part wasn't cast yet. “Mom?” she said. “I've been thinking … I didn't prepare very well for my audition. Do you think Charles would give me another chance, if I promise to work very hard?”

  M.C. smiled at her. “Oh, Madison, I'm so proud of you!”

  Mads went upstairs to e-mail Stephen. He was very interested in her career, or non-career, in the arts.

  To: steverino

  From: mad4u

  Re: back in the saddle

  guess what? I'm going to audition for teen mariah again. I realize I was being immature about it before. This time I won't mess up on purpose, only by accident. Like you said, it could be a good experience for me. I've turned a corner. I've grown. Aren't you proud of me?

  What's nu w/u?

  To: mad4u

  From: steverino

  Re: Re: back in the saddle

  U r so mature now. you'll be a thespian! A lady of the theatuh. I hope you'll let me walk down the red carpet with you at the oscars.

  Not much new here. studying. chem test tomorrow. Want to try for lunch? r u free 5th period?

  To: steverino

  From: mad4u

  Re: lunch

  Yes, but only if you'll spend half the lunch period helping me with my lines. Deal?

  To: mad4u

  From: steverino

  Re: lunch

  Deal. Dad is making bbq chicken tonight—I'll bring you a leg.

  xxx

  “Thanks for coming with me, Lina,” Mads said. They huddled backstage, waiting for Charles to call Mads for her second audition. “After the last time, I really need the support. God knows Audrey's no help.”

  “Try not to embarrass me, Fatison,” Audrey sneered, using one of her favorite nicknames for Mads.

  “I've been embarrassed since the day you were born,” Mads shot back.

  “I think you'll be okay this time,” Lina said. She had helped Mads practice her lines. Holly had planned on coming to support Mads, too, but at the last minute she got a frantic phone call from Britta. Apparently, Britta was having some kind of love crisis. Holly didn't say what it was. But Mads wished Holly could be with her. Holly had a natural confidence that sometimes rubbed off on Mads. Mads hoped so, anyway.

  “Madison? Are you ready?” Charles called.

  Mads gripped Lina's hand. “Remember—it's the great beyond,” Lina said, pu
shing her toward the stage.

  Mads went out and performed a new monologue. This time she got every line right, no mistakes. She may have underacted a little, as an antidote to Audrey's ham-miness. But she didn't stink. Not a bit.

  When it was over, Charles, M.C., and Lina clapped loudly. “Very nice, Madison,” Charles said. “Big improvement. Well, we're down to the wire with this role, since rehearsals begin this weekend, so I think I can safely say you have the part.”

  “All right!” Mads jumped up. Her plan was working perfectly. She was one step closer to learning the secrets of Sean's love life.

  Lina rushed out and jumped around with her. “Congratulations! Let's celebrate!”

  Mads and Lina left the theater and headed to Rutgers Street to celebrate her triumph. They went into Ike's Candy Store and picked out a big bag of jelly beans.

  “You're an actress!” Lina cheered.

  “Who cares?” Mads said. “Actress shmactress. Before you know it, I'll be friends with Jane Cotham, and soon I'll know every intimate detail about Sean! Maybe I'll even get to hang out with him after rehearsals.”

  “With Sean and Jane, you mean,” Lina said. “And Stephen.”

  “Oh, yeah, Stephen.” When Sean was in the picture, Stephen had a tendency to fade away. It was as if she had two compartments in her mind, and in her heart. And they were very separate. “The important thing is, my master plan is working.”

  “What master plan?” Lina asked.

  “Well, there's no actual plan,” Mads admitted. “I kind of make it up as I go along. But I know the general direction I want to go in, and this takes me there.”

  9

  Waaah!

  To: hollygolitely

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CAPRICORN: Do you know what a succubus is? No? Look it up. There's one headed your way.

  * * *

  Britta, what's the matter?”

  Holly found Britta at her front door in tears. “Come in,” Holly said, pulling the sniffling girl inside and shutting the door. “My god, what happened? Are you hurt? Did someone die?”

  Britta shook her head. “It's my parents. They're monsters! Fiends!”

  “What did they do?”

  “They're trying to stop me from seeing Ed!” Britta cried. “They're worried that our relationship is too intense. They won't let me see him more than once a week—and he's leaving in less than three weeks! That means I'll only see him twice more before he leaves—and after that, who knows?”

  She collapsed on Holly's shoulder and they both tumbled onto the couch in the great room. Luckily, Curt and Jen were at a country club dinner. It wouldn't be good for them to see this—Jen might report everything to Peggy Fowler.

  “God, that's so unfair,” Holly said. “Don't they understand what he means to you?”

  Every day Britta gave Holly an Ed Report, and Holly was hooked on them. The flowers, the candles, the kisses, the poetry … It was all so romantic, like a dream. No one Holly knew had ever had a love affair—and that was what this was like, a grown-up, movie love affair—and Holly was enthralled by every detail.

  “I know,” Britta sobbed. “They're so mean! What am I going to do? My whole life has changed since I met him. Now I can't live without him!”

  “Your parents are so overprotective,” Holly said.

  “Overprotective! All they care about are my grades and getting into Harvard. Superficial, status-conscious social climbers!”

  Holly silently agreed. She thought of what Lina would say: What kind of cold-hearted people couldn't see true love when it bloomed like a desert cactus right in front of their eyes? And she'd be right. Holly wasn't about to let them quash it. It meant too much to Britta—and to Holly.

  When Holly looked back on the relationships she'd had with boys so far, they all seemed kind of piddly. Ordinary, everyday. She'd felt attracted, she'd felt irritated, she'd felt pleasantly comfortable, she'd felt angry. But she'd never felt the huge emotions Britta had. She'd never felt like her love was a matter of life and death. And she wanted to. She was willing to make a sacrifice to keep Britta's love story going.

  “Look, there's a very easy answer,” Holly said. “You can see Ed whenever you want. Just tell Peggy and Gord that you're with me. I'll cover for you.”

  Britta lifted her head, sat up, and stared gratefully through her tears at Holly.

  “You would do that for us?”

  “Of course.”

  Britta started crying again. “Thank you … so much …”

  Holly wrapped her arms around her and let her cry. A tear sprang up at the corner of her own eye. Ed and Britta needed her. Without Holly to protect it, their relationship would be trampled by a cruel world.

  The doorbell rang. Holly got up to answer it, leaving Britta crumpled on the couch.

  It was Rob. They were supposed to go out that night. In the midst of Britta's crisis, Holly had forgotten all about it.

  “Hey,” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips.

  “Ready to go? I thought we could grab some Chinese food—” He came in and saw Britta on the couch. “What's up?” he asked, nodding at her.

  “An emergency,” Holly explained. “I can't leave her right now.”

  “Oh. What happened?”

  “Her parents won't let her see Ed more than once a week,” Holly said. “They're ruining her life!”

  “Bummer.” Holly could tell that Rob was trying to be sympathetic, but he really didn't get the implications of this. “Can we go out later, after she's calmed down?”

  “I don't know.” Holly led Rob over to the couch. Britta's face was buried in a cushion. “We'll see.” She helped Britta up to a sitting position. “Would you like a glass of water?”

  Britta nodded. Holly went to the kitchen. Rob followed her.

  “How long do you think this is going to be?” Rob asked.

  “I'm not sure,” Holly said. “She's so in love, she takes everything to heart, you know?”

  Rob didn't look too sure. Holly brought the glass of water to Britta. He followed her.

  Britta drank the water and seemed to feel better. “Thanks, Holly. I guess everything is okay now, since you're going to help us. I'll call Ed and tell him what's going on.” She pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

  Holly and Rob stepped away so she could have some privacy. “Isn't it amazing?” Holly said. “I've never seen two people so in love. It's like this incredible Shakespearean super-love, like a fairy tale. Unreal.”

  Rob looked uncomfortable. “Unreal is a good word for it.”

  A few minutes later, Britta was off the phone, wailing. Holly and Rob ran to her.

  “What is it?” Holly asked. “What's the matter now?”

  “I'm—just—so—in—love—with—him,” Britta choked out.

  “Um, you know what? I think I'm going to go now,” Rob said. He was practically squirming with discomfort. Holly felt sorry for him. Most boys, ordinary boys, couldn't handle this level of emotion.

  “I'm sorry, Rob,” she said, walking him to the door. “I can't leave her like this.”

  “I know. I'll call you later. Maybe we can catch a late movie? If she's gone by then, I mean.”

  “Okay.” More wails issued from the couch. Holly turned her head.

  “I'd better go.” Rob left quickly. Holly hurried back to the couch.

  “He's coming over,” Britta said. “That's okay, isn't it?”

  “Of course it is,” Holly said. “But he's got to leave before Curt and Jen get home, or your parents will find out—”

  “He will, he will.”

  “Britta, you've really got to stop crying now,” Holly said. She grabbed a box of Kleenex and started dabbing at Britta's eyes. “There's nothing to cry about, right? Ed's coming over!”

  Britta nodded happily. Holly helped her straighten her clothes in preparation for Ed's arrival. She felt like the nurse in Romeo and Juliet, helping the young lovers arran
ge a rendezvous. So much excitement, so much emotion. This wasn't high school. This was real life.

  I hope this happens to me one day, Holly thought. She was happy to play nurse to Britta. But someday she wanted to be Juliet.

  10

  Naked Halloween

  To: linaonme

  From: your daily horoscope

  HERE IS TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: CANCER: An irresistible opportunity presents itself today. Which is too bad for you, since resisting it is the only way to avoid catastrophe. But the stars say you won't, so I guess you're doomed.

  * * *

  Lina! This is it! The goddess is smiling down on us!” Ramona was running down the hall toward her, waving a piece of paper. Lina sat on the floor in front of her locker, trying to squeeze in a last-minute cram for her history quiz. She closed her book. It was a lost cause now.

  Ramona sat down next to her. “Look. It's the answer to everything.”

  Lina didn't have to ask what Ramona was talking about. What was Ramona always talking about? Or almost always? Dan.

  Lina read the piece of paper. It was a flyer announcing Rosewood's annual Writer's Potluck Supper, for all students who write for school publications. This included Lina, of course, and Ramona, who was an editor and poet, specializing in death imagery, for Inchworm, one of the school's two literary journals. Lina was sure it would be somewhat fun, for a school party, but she didn't get what Ramona was so excited about.

  “So?” Lina asked.

  “Look where it's being held.”

  Lina read the smaller type at the bottom of the page. Date, time, and address: the home of Dan Shulman, Inchworm Faculty Advisor. Aha.

  “There's got to be a way we can use this,” Ramona said. “I mean, we're going to be inside his house! For a legitimate reason!”

  “But what can we do?” Lina asked. “Chain ourselves to the bed?”

  “I know—we'll steal something of his. And he'll have to ask you back to return it … No! We'll find his journal, or some personal letters or something, and blackmail him with them. He has to kiss you or we'll publish them on your Web site.”