Stagefright

by Carole Wilkinson

Hailie came out of the girls’ toilets and joined them.

  “We could set up the stage like it’s underwater,” Velvet said, “with strips of blue and green material to look like seaweed.”

  Hailie turned to Roula. “Could you do that? You used to be good at textiles when we still had an art program.”

  “Sure.”

  “We’ll need some freaky music,” Drago said.

  Everyone looked over to where Taleb was hanging out with the other members of Toxic Shock. He didn’t like to be seen with the cultural studies students out of class.

  “Then we can get Queen Elizabeth to come on at the end of act one and say the King has died.”

  “What about Richard’s mum?” Roula said. “I’m not in act one at all!”

  “You can come on at the end as well, and bawl that you’ve lost two of your sons,” Drago said. “Act one finito.”

  “That’s not in the play!”

  “Don’t be so picky, Corduroy. No one’s going to know.”

  “What about act two?”

  “Who needs it?”

  Hailie was sitting so close to Peter that their thighs were touching. He ignored her, stretching out his legs and revealing a pair of bright purple socks.

  Uniform rules were strict at Yarrabank. Only Year 12s were allowed to come to school out of uniform. The one thing the school turned a blind eye to were socks. Hardly any of the girls wore white socks and only the daggiest boys wore the regulation grey socks. Hailie and Roula wore socks with flowers, spots, pigs or teddy bears on them. Mei, who had a uniform now, wore socks with random English words on them, like “sexy, hairdo, ankle”. Jesus wore Nike sports socks. Drago liked to wear odd socks. Taleb’s were always plain black. Even Velvet had given up wearing white socks. Her favourites were a pair covered with musical notes.

  The girls’ lacrosse team was doing training laps.

  “Look. It’s the drama queens,” one of them said as they jogged past.

  It wasn’t a flattering name, but none of the cultural studies students minded standing out from the sporting jocks.

  The bell went and everyone got up and dawdled off to their next class. Velvet and Hailie had maths. When they got to the classroom, Mr Axiotis was busily scrawling algebra problems on the blackboard. Hailie sat down and started concentrating. Not on the problems, but on 10F who were straggling past outside the window on their way to French.

  “I’m looking for a new boyfriend.” Hailie studied the passing prospects. “I reckon there are three possibilities.”

  Velvet was also watching 10F or one of them at least. Taleb was in 10F.

  “You’ve got the hots for him, haven’t you?” Hailie said.

  “No, I haven’t. Who?”

  “Taleb. I’ve seen you checking him out when you think no one’s looking. And you go all red when he talks to you.”

  “That’s because he’s always yelling at me for something.”

  “It’s cool.”

  “Not everybody is boy crazy like you, Hailie.”

  “Relax. You don’t have to worry about me going for him. He’s too … intense for me.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to grasp, but I’m not interested in boys. The only relationship I want to have with Taleb is a creative partnership. I want this musical to work.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  It was easy enough to get Hailie to change the subject. All Velvet had to do was get her to talk about herself.

  “So aren’t you interested in Peter any more?”

  “I can’t wait around forever.”

  “How long has it been?”

  “At least a month.”

  “You still like him though?”

  “I dunno. He’s beautiful, but he doesn’t seem to have any feelings.”

  Velvet nodded. It wasn’t very often that she and Hailie were in agreement.

  “I’ve finished Mei’s song,” Taleb announced at the next cultural studies class.

  “Great,” said Mr MacDonald, who was still trying to get them all to like Mei. “Let’s hear it.”

  “It’s where Lady Margaret curses everyone.”

  Velvet noticed an uncharacteristically nasty glint in Taleb’s eye as he plugged his guitar into a small amp. He launched into the song, yelling Margaret’s curses in between jarring heavy metal chords. It was loud and aggressive, the total opposite of the one he’d written for Lady Anne.

  “You killed my husband. You killed my son.

  Give me one good reason to forgive what you’ve done.

  My sadness is because of you, you know it well.

  I wish you would leave this world and go to hell.

  “Bottled spider!

  Rooting hog!

  Spotted toad!

  Foul dog!

  I hate you. You … you … you … hedgehog!

  “Listen to me, my words will all come true.

  Your friends will turn their backs on you.

  Your nights’ll be sleepless, your days like bad dreams.

  Don’t you others trust him. He’s worse than he seems.”

  Taleb yelled the chorus again. Velvet was horrified. Mr MacDonald looked stunned. When it was over they all sat there, listening to the ringing in their ears.

  “What is going on in here?” It was Mr Kislinski standing in the doorway.

  “We’re just rehearsing our play, sir,” Peter said.

  “I thought you were doing Shakespeare.”

  “We are, sir. Richard the Third.”

  “What was that awful noise?”

  There was a moment’s silence while everyone tried to think of something to say. It was Roula who had the brainwave.

  “It was a performance exercise, sir. Method acting. It helps you get over stage fright.”

  Mr Kislinski swallowed Roula’s story. “Keep it down, could you? You’re disturbing the athletes.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  Mr MacDonald hadn’t said a word. The principal glared at him.

  “If this production isn’t up to scratch …” He left him to imagine the consequences.

  Mr MacDonald looked pale. “You just lied to the principal, Roula.”

  “It’s Taleb’s fault.”

  “You nearly blew it, dude, with that awful song,” Jesus said.

  “It was a joke, right?”

  “Absolutely not.” Taleb was unrepentant. “It’ll sound different when Mei sings it in her screechy voice. Margaret’s a crazy old woman.”

  Velvet couldn’t contain herself any longer. “It’s horrible. It’ll ruin the musical.”

  “I like it,” Taleb said. “It’ll be a contrast to the other sickly sweet song.”

  Velvet loved Lady Anne’s song. “The audience will leave.”

  “Not everyone’s got your white-bread taste in music, Velvet.”

  “Settle down,” Mr MacDonald said, glancing nervously out of the window.

  “We should find out what Mei thinks. Drago can you …”

  “Ni xihuan zhi shou ge ma?” Drago asked.

  Mei thought for a moment. “Xihuan!”

  Everyone turned to Drago.

  “Yeah, she likes it.”

  Velvet glared at Taleb. So much for their creative partnership.

  CHAPTER 14

  On Thursdays, Velvet had technology for the two periods before recess. That week, it was food technology, which, at Yarrabank, was a euphemism for cooking. They were making jam roly-poly pudding. The teacher, Miss Guerin, had only been at Yarrabank for three years, but she was at least 150 years old and she had previously taught home ec. at a girls’ school. She hadn’t changed her lesson plan since about 1955, so it didn’t quite fit the curriculum emphasis on healthy food.

  Taleb was the only Year 10 in the class. Somehow he had managed to fail food technology the previous year and he was repeating. Velvet was still angry with him for writing that awful song for Mei and being critical of her taste in music. Taleb didn’t have a cooking partner. Velvet didn’t either. But nei
ther of them had suggested they team up. That was fine with Velvet. It wasn’t like they were good friends.

  Nothing had been said, but Hailie and Roula now allowed Velvet to sit with them at lunch. Velvet’s jam roly-poly pudding might not have been healthy, but it tasted good and the three of them were eating it with their fingers.

  “You’re not listening, are you?” Roula said.

  “What? Yes, I am.” Velvet’s mind had been somewhere else. “Something about red-back spiders living in your cousin’s hair.”

  Hailie went off to the toilets. Roula and Velvet followed her. They were all sticky and needed to wash their hands.

  “I was thinking about the play,” Velvet said. “I’ve had an idea about a scene where the whole cast sings a song with lots of harmonies, something to liven up the second half.”

  “You’re such a loser, Velvet,” Roula said, looking at herself in the mirror and arranging her hair, which now had pink streaks. “It’s like this play is the only thing in your life.”

  It was, but Velvet wasn’t about to admit to that. “I like to excel at everything I do. You wouldn’t understand that.”

  There was only one person who cared as much about the play as Velvet did. She decided that it was very immature for the scriptwriter to not be on speaking terms with the musical director. She knew Taleb would never be the first one to say something after their argument over Mei’s song. It was up to her to set the standard for professional behaviour.

  “Where are you going?” Hailie said, as she came out of the toilet cubicle.

  “I’ve had an idea for the play. I’m going to see what Taleb thinks.”

  “Why don’t you tell him this arvo?”

  “If he hates the idea, I’d rather find out privately than have him yell at me in front of the others again.”

  Roula and Hailie shared a look. “Yeah, right. You just want to go and talk to him.”

  “I do not. Not everyone is like you, Hailie. Communication between boys and girls doesn’t have to be based on primitive urges.”

  Hailie pulled a face in the mirror.

  At lunchtime, Taleb hung out near the canteen with the other members of Toxic Shock and their followers. It was perfectly reasonable for Velvet to discuss artistic matters with him. She composed her face so that she looked calm and disinterested, before turning the corner to the canteen.

  Taleb was sitting on a bench. Usually he was strumming a guitar, but that particular day, instead of a guitar strap, a girl’s arm was wrapped around his neck.

  Velvet stopped dead.

  It was Sofia Ritano, the judo champion who had decked her in first term. The casual words she had prepared got stuck in her throat. The greasy lead singer was the only one who noticed her standing there.

  “Hey, Taleb. You’ve got a visitor.”

  They all turned to look at her.

  “So what can we do for you, Ms Snobnose?” Hailie’s name for Velvet had spread.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

  Sofia’s lips formed a thin line, which could have been a sneer or a smile. Taleb didn’t move.

  “Come on.” Eddy the drummer sneered at her too. “You didn’t come all the way over here from the library, or wherever it is you hang out, for no reason.”

  “It can wait till class.”

  Velvet turned and fled. Her heart was pumping, her face burning. She ran straight into Hailie who had just come out of the canteen with six dim sims.

  “Watch where you’re going.”

  Velvet tried to get past Hailie, but her feet wouldn’t do what she wanted them to.

  “I’ve got to sit down.”

  Hailie looked over Velvet’s shoulder at Taleb and Sofia. She took Velvet by the arm, led her to the edge of the oval and sat her down on a bench next to Roula.

  “What’s wrong, Velvet? You look awful.”

  Velvet was close to tears. “I don’t feel well. I think I’m coming down with something.”

  “I think you’ve already got it,” Hailie said.

  “Got what?” Roula asked, helping herself to one of Hailie’s dim sims.

  “She just saw Taleb with Sofia Ritano.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s not that … it’s …”

  “It’s okay, Velvet. You can talk to us,” Hailie said. “You’ve got nobody else.”

  “Yeah. Stop fooling yourself.”

  “I ate too much roly-poly pudding.” Velvet watched Roula bite into a dim sim. “And the smell of those dim sims is making me feel sick.”

  “It’s not the dim sims or the pudding, Velvet. Face it. You’re in love.”

  “Oh, God.”

  Velvet lurched to her feet and threw up in a nearby rubbish bin. Then she sank back onto the bench, supported on either side by Roula and Hailie.

  “What will I do?”

  “I dunno,” Roula said. “I’ve never felt that way about anybody.”

  “It must have happened to you hundreds of times, Hailie.”

  “Only once.”

  “But all those boyfriends …”

  “That’s different. I just like them. Most of them anyway. They’re someone to have around.”

  “Who was the one?”

  “I was in love with Michael Abilovski last year.”

  “I remember him,” Roula said. “He had nice curly hair. Not my type though.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing. I tried to talk to him and he ignored me. I moped around for a couple of weeks and then it went away.”

  “So you think that’ll happen to me? It’ll just go away?”

  “Yeah.”

  Velvet thought about that for a few moments. Did she want it to go away?

  “Taleb’s got no taste in girls, that’s for sure,” Roula said.

  Velvet couldn’t get the memory of Sofia Ritano’s spiteful smile out of her mind.

  “Sofia’s such a cow.” It was like Hailie could read her mind. “Just don’t let him know you’re upset.”

  “Yeah, he’s not worth it, is he?”

  Velvet didn’t answer.

  Roula and Hailie exchanged another look.

  “Come on, Velvet. The bell will be going in a minute.” Hailie dragged her to her feet. “You look terrible. You’ve got to get yourself together before cultural studies.”

  They went back to the toilets. After Hailie had practically drowned her in cold water, Velvet managed to regain some of her composure. In a way, she felt better. She’d confessed her feelings. Not only to Hailie and Roula, but to herself.

  The bell rang.

  “You’ve got to promise you won’t tell anybody, Hailie,” Velvet said as they walked across the oval.

  “God’s honour.”

  Velvet wasn’t sure that meant a lot coming from Hailie.

  “Do you think Taleb knows?”

  “Nah. Boys are really stupid about that sort of thing.”

  They reached T6.

  “Are you ready?” asked Hailie.

  Velvet nodded.

  “You don’t have to say anything in class this afternoon,” Hailie said. “Everyone will just think you’ve got period pains.”

  Hailie was right. All Velvet had to do was sit quietly at the back of the class and let Drago rave on endlessly about his latest idea for the play. Any other day, she would have argued every point, but today she’d keep quiet.

  Unfortunately, this week it was Taleb who had the ideas.

  “If this is supposed to be a musical, we better start thinking about some music.”

  “You’re writing the songs aren’t you?” Jesus said.

  “Yeah, but don’t you think we need some musical accompaniment?”

  “I thought you were going to play your guitar.”

  Taleb rolled his eyes.

  “One guitar all the way through? We need a band.”

  “That’s a great idea, Taleb,” Mr MacDonald said.

  “There should be a …” Peter turned to Velvet. “What do yo
u call the music at the beginning?”

  Velvet’s mind went blank. She couldn’t think of the word.

  “Overture,” Mr MacDonald said.

  “Yeah. We need an overture, and some of us might need something to help us stay in tune.” Taleb glared at Hailie.

  “Will Toxic Shock play it?” Drago asked.

  “Are you kidding? They wouldn’t be seen dead in this play.”

  “You’re going to be seen in it.”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  “So who’s going to be in the band?”

  Taleb looked at them. “Who do you think?”

  “Just us, I guess.”

  “Right.”

  “So, you’ll be on guitar,” Peter said. “What else have we got?”

  “Hailie on sax. Velvet on piano.”

  Velvet flinched at the mention of her name. She felt fragile, as if her skin were made of tissue paper and if anyone poked her she’d deflate like a balloon.

  Taleb sighed. “That’s it. That’s all we’ve got.”

  “Me on recorder,” said Roula.

  “I don’t think so,” Taleb said. “Eddy might play drums for us.”

  “You just said Toxic Shock wouldn’t be seen dead in our play,” Peter said.

  “Eddy owes me a favour. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t be in the band.”

  “The guy with green hair and a ring through his top lip?” Hailie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “We don’t want him in our band,” Jesus said.

  “You can play drums, can you?”

  “No.”

  “So, we’ll ask Eddy.”

  Taleb was frowning. “We need something else. What happened to that kid who could play Chariots of Fire?”

  “He recovered from his injuries. He’s back playing sport.”

  Taleb turned to Velvet. “Didn’t you say you played clarinet?”

  Velvet nearly jumped out of her chair. There was a strong possibility that she might throw up again. She managed to squeak out one word in answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you play clarinet better than you can play piano?”

  “Much better.” Two words, she was doing well.

  “But I thought she was playing piano.”

  “She can play both.”

  “Huh?”

  “Not at the same time, Drago.”

  Velvet no longer owned a clarinet, but she didn’t trust herself to get out a whole sentence.