by Ted Michael
Thirteen minutes after the seventh-period bell rang, I realized what the problem was. You say that I rush into things, tell you stories without giving you the context. You said it to me like it was something cute that I do, but I know (for a fact, actually) that it annoys you. I wonder how many of the other compliments you gave me weren’t really compliments at all. It makes me sad to think about it. Okay. The context.
I finished the screenplay last month. You know how I’d been having trouble with the ending? Well, it finally came to me—the perfect solution, something that wouldn’t seem too tidy but that would still satisfy. I hate that feeling, don’t you? When the screen goes black and you’re like, what? So it came to me: what would happen to Claire, where I would leave her. I wrote all through the end of world history and only felt a tiny bit guilty when Ms. Hendricks thanked me for taking such thorough notes when really I missed every word that she said.
There are still three main characters: Sophie and Eric and Claire, with Sophie at the center of the love triangle. Or, I don’t know, at the top piece of it. At the pointiest point. The story is about love and friendship and the everyday agonies of high school. That sounds melodramatic but it isn’t. I wanted to write a screenplay that felt real. I think I pulled it off.
We held auditions after school, so that brings us to the end of seventh period again. I didn’t go straight into Mr. Samson’s room where everyone was gathering. I thought that could be awkward since obviously I’m the one making the final casting decisions even though Mr. Samson makes the announcements, so instead I sat outside on the bench under the climbing vine that was specked with bright pink flowers and I made a list of what I wanted in a Sophie. I intended to write lists for Eric and Claire too, but I got hung up on Sophie and then ran out of time. The list included a lot of things. Black hair; dark eyes; slender wrists and ankles; delicate ears good for hair tucking; soft lips good for close-ups of kissing; a face capable of sarcasm, withering glances, and effortless cruelty. Also kindness and sincerity and openness. The kind of beauty that makes your bones ache.
Fifteen minutes passed while I was dreaming up the perfect Sophie. Matt (who gets to be cinematographer this year) was setting up his camera to film the auditions and the actors were assembling and rehearsing their lines and assessing one another. And then I put my notebook away and walked in to find all the usual people, sitting in a neat row: Kim and Samantha and Aubrey and Leah and Michelle and the rest of them. So many of the drama girls were auditioning for Sophie. And even though there were so many really great actors to choose from, I got this sinking feeling, this desperation. The problem became clear: none of them were you.
I know that you don’t really want to hear from me, even though I never hurt you in any way. I hope that you are liking your new school and not missing it here too much. I’ll stop texting and emailing you. I just wanted you to know.
Love,
Tori
Note written during 4th period, 9/18/13
Sean!!!
I thought about texting you but I didn’t want your phone to get confiscated by Ms. Heung again. And plus, this news is too special for a text. You know all those times you said I was totally gonna get the part? Well, you were right.
I GOT THE PART!
I really need to trust you more and doubt myself less. Like, when I was rehearsing my monologue, and you said, “Babe, you’re amazing,” I shouldn’t have said, “Do you really think so?” I should have said: “I know!” Because I could actually feel all the things my character was feeling in that moment: powerful and destructive and brave. For 2.5 minutes I was not Sam anymore. I was Sophie. And then, at the audition, I did it again. I knew that I was being a true artist up there, and that everyone else could feel it too. There’s no other way to say it: it was magical.
How should we celebrate? I know. Take me out tonight! You can borrow your mom’s car again, right?
I hope you aren’t going to mind that I’m going to have to get it on with both Lily and Josh. It’s totally nonromantic to fool around in front of a camera and the entire crew. I wonder how we’re going to do the sex scenes. Eek, maybe I’ll have to really be naked! Anyways, I’m so excited for tonight! Hint: I feel like Chinese!
I love you!
Your star,
Sam
To: Monica Livingston
From: Samantha Partridge
Date: 9/18/2013
Hey, Monica!
I hope Utah is awesome! As you might already know, I am to play the part of Sophie in Tuesday at Midnight. Since Sophie is based on you, I’m wondering if you’d help me out with something. When you hooked up with Tyler at Erica’s party, what was going through your head? Did you not care that you were cheating on Tori? Did you feel like it was wrong but you couldn’t help yourself? Or maybe you aren’t comfortable being tied down? I’m trying to say this line right: “It’s just me. It’s the way I am.” I’ve practiced a lot with different feelings behind it. I can say it tearfully or defensively or confidently, but I want to be authentic, because that’s the word that Tori keeps using during rehearsals. She wants us to really feel what we’re supposed to be feeling. “Aim for authenticity,” she keeps saying. So I need to know the subtext, all the background stuff, you know. I know you won’t mind me asking you this, because you understand the creative process too. The more detail you can go into the better because I really want to understand her/you. I want to give Sophie some humanity.
Thanks!
XOXO!
Sam
To: Bob and Martha Fields
From: Grady Samson
Date: 10/1/13
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Fields:
I hope this little note finds you both well. It’s a pleasure to have Tori in my class again. She’s just as creative as ever, and this year she is much more focused (due in part, I surmise, to Monica’s family’s move to Utah). As I’m sure you are well aware, her screenplay, Tuesday at Midnight, was chosen by her peers to be our class project this semester. If you have read it, you’ll understand the delicacy of my situation. Underage drinking, teen sex, and profanity! The content isn’t exactly PG rated.
I don’t intend to bore you with the details, but it would be an understatement to say that it takes a battle to the death each year just to keep my film class alive amidst budget cuts and the increasing (and disturbing) privileging of the sciences over the arts. The administration doesn’t understand the worth of art; they consider filmmaking frivolous. I ask them, where do you turn when you feel the world getting you down, when you need inspiration, when you need to feel alive again? To a Petri dish? No. You listen to a song that commiserates with you. You look at a painting that moves you. Or you go to a movie, feel that blast of air-conditioning, your skin on the plush seats, lean back, and look at the screen as it lights up with the promise of a story.
I need to tell you something. I wasn’t planning on sharing this with you, but I feel for the first time in my twenty-seven-year career that I have found a protégé. In Tori I see an artist. A true filmmaker. Someone who can become what I didn’t dare dream I could become when I was in my tender youth. But I digress.
To put it simply, it won’t take long for the parents to discover some of the details of this film and go complain to the principal, and then I will be standing in her office getting my hand slapped. (So to speak.) And after the hand slapping, I will be the one having to break it to these adults that yes, their teenagers drink and have sex and curse and probably more things that we don’t even know about, and that no, this movie isn’t corrupting their poor young minds, etc., etc. ad infinitum. I am writing to assure you that I am behind Tori and her staggeringly beautiful Tuesday at Midnight 1000 percent. I have never encountered a screenplay that speaks so delicately and honestly about the complexities of youth, of first love and heartbreak. It isn’t often that, in the midst of this mind-numbing beige suburbia, a cause worth fighting for arises, but it has arisen, and with it I too, am rising.
Yours,
> Grady Samson
To: Tori Fields
From: Monica Livingston
Date: 10/3/13
Tori,
Are you aware that Samantha wrote me an email about how she knows that Sophie is based on me? She actually asked me personal questions so she could understand “her character.” I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but my life and my choices aren’t just material for your movie. Please send me the screenplay. I need to make sure I’m comfortable with how I’m depicted.
I’m not going to get into the reasons I’m not writing you back and calling you and everything. I explained already that even though at first it seemed like the end of the world that my dad took a job in Utah, I then came to see Utah as a new beginning. And, to answer your question, no. I don’t hate it when the screen goes black because I actually don’t think, what. I think that life is not easily resolved. I appreciate that uncertainty reflected in art.
Monica
To: Grady Samson
From: Bob and Martha Livingston
Date: 10/3/13
Dear Mr. Samson,
Thank you so much for letting us know about the possible controversy surrounding Tori’s film. We were, to be honest, less than thrilled with the number of expletives in her screenplay, but at the same time we agree that it’s an accurate reflection of the experience of many of our children. Of course, we hope that other members of the Vista High School community will feel similarly, but we are ready to show support for Tori and your much beloved and valued film program in any way that we can.
Thank you, also, for your kind words about our daughter. We are tremendously proud of her.
All our best,
Martha and Bob (Fields)
To: Sean Lu
From: Samantha Partridge
Date: 10/17/13
Seany!
You will never believe what happened this morning! While you were in second period! It’s still hard for me to believe that people at school were just in their classes sitting there staring into space or something while in the Admin hall things were going crazy!
Okay, so this is how it started. We walked into film class and Mr. Samson was pacing in front and he didn’t say hello to us like he usually does so we all could feel that something was up. It was like there was this hush over us. But we were kind of whispering, too, because we were all wondering what was wrong. And then the bell rang and he just kept pacing. We were all like, Oh my God, what’s wrong with Mr. Samson??? Then he said, “Tori, will you come talk to me for a moment?” And Tori got up and followed him into his office, and we all tried to hear what he was saying but we couldn’t hear it. It was pretty silent for a little while, and then Mr. Samson and Tori BURST out of his office and into the classroom. Actually, it was more like Mr. Samson burst out and Tori walked out with him.
Basically, what happened was that some parent of a kid (who isn’t even in the film class and who none of us have heard of, by the way) wrote to “express concern” about our film. I guess she’s part of the parents’ club and she said that since the parents’ club funds the film class she would like to make sure the administration approves the movie. Whatever. So controlling.
So Mr. Samson was like a sports coach all of a sudden. “Are we going to let the parents’ club dictate our art?” he kept yelling, and we yelled back, “No!” “What are we gonna do about it?!” he yelled, and we didn’t really know what to do so we just kind of muttered some suggestions and shrugged and stuff until he said, “Are we going to go down to the office and tell them what we think about their ‘expression of concern’?” And we were like, “Yeah!” And then, before I even knew what was happening, rolls of Duct tape were flying through the air and into our hands, and we were writing signs that said things like “Whatever happened to freedom of speech?” and “Art saves lives!” Mine said, “Get your parents off my movie!” Isn’t that amazing? I don’t even know how I came up with it.
We all covered our mouths with the Duct tape and then we marched to the Admin hall. Mr. Samson didn’t tape his mouth right away, though, because he gave this speech as we marched. It was incredible. It happened so fast and he kept talking about all of this history stuff that I didn’t really get but I could tell it was super awesome and relevant. When we got to the hall, he yelled, “Now make a star!” And we did it! We didn’t even organize. We just lay down in the shape of a star. I thought about getting in the middle of it since I am the star, but then I figured I would stay with my cast.
Mr. Samson put the tape over his mouth, which was really powerful. And then we just waited for them to notice us. Finally the secretary came out and said, “What the?” and then rushed back in. Then Principal Monroe came out and shook her head. “What is this, Grady?” she asked, but Mr. Samson’s mouth was taped so all he could do is point at us and our shirts. She walked in a circle around us reading our messages. She rubbed her face. It was clear that she really had a lot on her mind. Then she said, “Go ahead and make your movie. But you’re not showing it at Open House, all right, Grady? Is that clear?”
Then she went back in the office. Honestly? I was a little bit confused. But then Mr. Samson peeled the tape off of his mouth. He gestured for us to do it, too. It really hurt! We were all watching him, rubbing our mouths, and wondering what we should do next. “Ladies and gentleman,” he said—to us! “You have just been part of a successful preemptive strike. We have made Vista High School history today and preserved the integrity of Tuesday at Midnight.” He actually had tears in his eyes. And you know what? I had some tears in mine too. I knew I was part of something really special. I really was.
See you at lunch!!!
Sam
To: Tori Fields
From: Monica Livingston
Date: 10/23/13
Tori,
I still haven’t gotten a copy of your screenplay, and I’m feeling really uncomfortable about this, especially because Sam keeps writing to me—even though I’m completely ignoring her—with more questions and all of this rambling about how controversial your film is and whether I’ve heard about it on the news. On the news? Tori, all the things that happened to us were between us. I regret a lot of things but I’m trying to move on and I don’t need my bad decisions haunting me. Just email it to me or something, okay?
Monica
To: Monica Livingston
From: Tori Fields
Date: 10/29/13
Monica,
Please. My movie wasn’t ever on the news. Sam is being dramatic. There was a little bit of controversy, but Mr. Samson handled it (in a way that you would find really funny, by the way. It was extreme but, to his credit, effective).
When I said that you weren’t in that room on audition day, I didn’t mean that Sophie was you. I meant that I wrote the part with you in mind, like you were my muse, like when I wrote “Sophie laughs,” I pictured you laughing. At first it was almost like a form of self-torture, because it was still so raw, what happened between us. But then it started to make me feel better to write it all out. Not the facts but the feeling of everything. It felt good to see all of the misery become something.
I’ll tell Sam not to contact you anymore. I’ll tell her that she misunderstood and that you aren’t Sophie at all.
I hope you’re doing well,
Tori
To: Tori Fields
From: Monica Livingston
Date: 11/8/2013
Tori,
You have got to be kidding me. Sam actually called me and left me this long voicemail asking why I made those lists about you that I made. I don’t even know how you know about them. But the next time you choose to use personal details about my life please have the decency not to tell me that the character isn’t based on me.
Monica
Text message sent from Tori Fields to Tyler Marsh, 11/8/2013
I need to talk to you.
To: Monica Livingston
From: Tyler Marsh
Date: 11/8/2013
Hee
eeyyyyyy, Monica.
Okay, so I’m writing you this because Tori just yelled at me for five minutes because I told Sam about those lists you made. So here’s the confession I promised her I’d give you.
Sam has been like stalking me for information about you. I finally just broke down and gave her something good so she’d leave me alone. And yeah, I told Tori about the lists, too, but I just thought it would be doing everyone a favor. Like I know you don’t want to hear from either of us and that’s no problem on my end because whatever happened between us is over and that’s more than cool with me. But Tori’s spent the last few months walking around like she’s shell-shocked, so I thought telling her about the lists might snap her out of it.
So I told her.
And then I said, “What kind of person makes a list of the stuff that annoys her about the girl she’s supposed to love? And then makes another one about the guy she’s cheating on her with?” She was kind of crying, so she didn’t answer me. Finally I answered for her. I said, “The kind of person we don’t need in our lives.” And she nodded. But I guess you weren’t all worked out of her system yet.
As for me, you should be happy to know that I consider finding those lists on your carpet folded up into little squares to be one of the best things that ever happened to me. Also, it really isn’t annoying that I point at my food with my fork when I think it tastes good. At least I don’t talk with my mouth full. That would be rude.
Tyler
To: Tori Fields
From: Monica Livingston
Date: 11/10/13
Hey Tori,
I’m really sorry that I accused you of telling Sam about the lists, and I’m really sorry that I wrote them in the first place. I’m trying to let the old Monica go and become a better person. It doesn’t help that I am constantly worrying about what’s in your movie.