by Maria Boyd
Mum had probably been sitting on that all week. Now that she’d had a little chat with me she’d be fine. That was what she was like: she had her say and then she was happy. Me, on the other hand, I was left feeling like crap. That was the problem in our house: she loved talking about Dad and I hated it.
Hey! Hey, Will, it’s me. Zach.
That was all I needed.
Hey, Freak, how’s it going?
We walked into the hall together, the Freak giving his running commentary. This time I didn’t mind so much; the more he spoke the more the car ride and the conversation disappeared. And as he kept talking the washing machine continued to work through its cycle until finally it switched to off.
That girl!
Because Wednesday’s rehearsals had taken place at both Lakeside and St. Andrew’s, today was the first day the entire cast, band and crew had been together at the same time. The vibe was completely different from the auditions. It seemed like everyone had traded in their egos and were actually getting worked up about being involved. It had the same feel as when the boys and I were just about to go onto the soccer field. You weren’t thinking about yourself, you were thinking about how you were going to win the game and annihilate the opposition. Except there wasn’t any opposing team to the musical, apart from me. And after the morning I’d had, I didn’t have the energy to be a one-man opposition. I figured I’d try to sit today out on the bench.
There was another really good reason for the excitement and maybe this was the most honest one. We were in the presence of GIRLS! I reckon the musical thing is different for girls. They don’t seem to find being involved in this type of stuff as wanky. It’s a far cooler thing to be involved in the school musical if you are a girl from Lakeside rather than a boy from St. Andrew’s.
As soon as I hit the newly polished floorboards that Mr. Jenson, the maintenance guy, always had a go at us about scratching, Brother Pat had me doing band stuff. We had to set up right down the back of the hall until recess, so the leads could run through their dialogue onstage without having to yell over us. This meant I had to get the geeks organized with music stands, musical instruments and whatever other stuff was essential in a junior band geek’s life. After half an hour of setting up and making sure everyone had the right lunch box, we were finally ready to start. That was when Brother Pat stepped in, and he kept at it for the next two hours. Not one of the geeks complained. They just played nonstop, loving every second of it. The only thing I kept at was looking at my watch, counting down to the break. I was hanging out for the moment I could check out the girl factor. But as usual Andrews got in the way.
OK, everyone, I know you’re ready for a break but I want to run through the opening before we stop. Complete with overture, so band to the pit, please.
The geeks moved in tornado-like time, leaving a similar trail of destruction. I took my time.
Right, thank you, everyone. Silence, please. Polly, entrance!
She entered from stage left, without her script. As soon as she came onstage the whole hall faded away, including Andrews. I felt strange. Removed. Disorientated. From that moment on I was gone. Completely and totally gone.
I remember in Year 9 when we did Shakespeare in English. We watched Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo DiCaprio and got to talk about love and sex and stuff, something Year 9 boys are obsessed with. There was this one scene with a fish tank in it, when Romeo and Juliet saw each other for the first time. I remembered our teacher said this was the moment they fell in love—well, I think she said lust actually—and we all thought she was an idiot. How could you fall in love after one look over a bloody fish tank? Right now I could safely say that we had quite clearly been talking out of our arses. You obviously knew nothing about anything in Year 9.
I was locked to the spot, paralyzed, but still managed to stay on my chair, just. My jaw felt as though it had dropped to the floor like in the cartoons. It was difficult to breathe, like suddenly I had to think about doing what my body had been doing on its own for the past seventeen years. And then I knew I was really in trouble because I could feel myself starting to come over a bright fire-engine red.
She was …
She was …
She was hot!
And I was behaving like a dickhead.
It wasn’t that she was drop-dead gorgeous—you know, like on the front of Ralph magazine gorgeous—but she was just awesome! She had brown hair that was long, past her shoulders. She wasn’t that tall but she wasn’t short either. She fit together with all the right parts so that everything was in exactly the right spot and in exactly the right proportions. Not super skinny, just, I don’t know, like she was meant to be how she was.
But it was her face that really blew me away. All I could see were these bright, deep brown eyes, like they were always ready to have some fun. And her mouth looked like it was molded into a permanent smile. I couldn’t drag my eyes away. It wasn’t only her looks, though they had a lot to do with it. I also had this feeling that I had definitely seen her somewhere before.
Will? Hey, Will?
The Freak was hitting me with his trombone.
Will!
Back off, man! You could do me some serious damage with that thing.
It was then I realized the whole band was waiting for me to play. No!!!! Had they noticed? Had they seen me just completely lose my head over this girl? I looked around slowly. The geeks were doing their own thing as usual and the other guys were happy to have a chance to goof off. The two up onstage were looking a little annoyed, especially her. But they didn’t seem to know where the holdup was coming from.
Come on, Will, hurry up, the Freak whispered.
Andrews was grinning directly at me. Had he been watching? He would have been watching the stage, surely.
When you’re ready, Mr. Armstrong?
Bastard. He never missed a thing!
A smooth exit
What’s wrong with you?
I looked over my shoulder and saw the Freak bouncing up and down behind me. We were on a fifteen-minute break and I was keen to make a smooth exit to try to figure out what the hell had just happened. The last thing I wanted was to be followed by the annoyance machine.
Listen, Freak, can you give me a minute? I’ve got to, got to … ahh … fart and I didn’t want to do it in front of people.
Is that why you weren’t ready to play? Because you had wind?
I stared at the kid, wondering how he was going to survive the next six years, six months, six seconds of his life. Wind! What self-respecting twelve-year-old refers to farts as wind without remotely cracking up?
My dad reckons that even though it’s socially awkward it’s always much better if you release the wind rather than hold onto it.
I continued to stare. It’s not often I can’t think of a comeback.
Yeah, right was the best I could do.
I walked away, shaking my head. The kid had no idea, absolutely no idea.
I found myself a decent wall and sat, making sure that the Freak, or anyone else for that matter, couldn’t find me. What had just happened? This girl walks onto the stage and I’m left sitting there like an idiot. I’m interested in girls, that’s not what I’m saying. I had one serious girlfriend toward the end of last year and the usual bus relationships that last for a week or two before you’re dropped. Sure, I wasn’t a stud or anything, but I wasn’t a complete reject either. It was just … It was just, well, I wasn’t used to feeling stuff that strongly anymore. It was like I’d stopped feeling.
I hadn’t deliberately shut down, my body seemed to do it on its own. I had no say in it. I hadn’t always been like that. But since … well, since early this year, I hadn’t felt much of anything. I didn’t care and I didn’t want to care.
Today was the first time Mum had really pushed it with me. I mean, she had tried to get me to talk before, but when I wouldn’t she let me be. What was the point in opening it all up? It only left you wide open for the destructo ball to c
ome back and flatten you again, and who was to say this time you were going to get back up? Nuh, life was much easier with the Bubble Wrap left on.
Right, you lot, back inside now!
I watched everyone make their way back inside and my eyes fell on her.
But, man, she was gorgeous!
Tony and Polly
It was the end of Act One. The girl wasn’t needed but the guy who played opposite was. I’d been so blown away by the girl playing Polly—what a name, Polly!—I hadn’t realized it was that bloke from the auditions. No surprise really. He was bound to get the Tony part. And he got to play opposite her. Lucky bastard.
Andrews obviously hadn’t called them onto the stage so they were mucking about at the back of the hall. I took my guitar and sat down near to where they were. It was no big deal, all the band separated out to tune their instruments. It sounds desperate, but I wanted to know what the score was between them. If I happened to overhear their conversation while I was tuning my guitar, so what?
What are you going to do with the rest of the weekend?
She didn’t answer him for a moment; it was like she was finishing off her lines in her head.
What do you mean, the rest of the weekend? There is no rest of it. I have to look after my brother tomorrow and finish my assignments, otherwise I’m in big trouble.
She’s not the only one!
Me too. It sucks, doesn’t it? I mean, you’d reckon they could cut us some slack for being involved in something for the school. But if I say anything to the parents they just tell me to drop out of rugby and that’s not going to happen.
Right, you big football he-man … Did you play rugby in Melbourne? I thought it was meant to be all AFL down there.
He’s new … and he plays rugby …
I went to a private school. But I used to play AFL when I was a kid.
He’s an all-round sporting hero …
Is it really different to here?
Heaps. I went to a coed school for the last three years. I really miss the girls not being around.
I bet you do!
No, I mean it. The whole atmosphere changes and the guys act less like morons.
And he was on himself.
You mean like the other day when we came over for rehearsals? It was like they’d never seen girls before. One idiot pointed and yelled out at us as we got off the bus. It was so embarrassing!
Yeah, well, blowing him a kiss wasn’t exactly showing him how much you hated it.
What was I meant to do, every guy in the yard was staring at us.
The Jock factor strikes again! Not only did he get the head of house bit wrong—she was definitely a junior, which meant she could only be an assistant head of house—he’d also managed to make us all look like idiots. Thank God I’d kept my back turned.
That’s what I mean—that wouldn’t happen in a coed school.
Well, at least you acknowledge who is the superior sex.
And she’s not exactly shy.
Hey, I didn’t say that, I just said it was a better atmosphere.
My parents would never let me go to a coed school.
Strict?
Worse than strict. Italian strict. I don’t get it, though—Mum went through it all with her parents and she used to tell me stories about how she had to sneak out all the time. It’s not that they don’t let me out, they’re just really big on clear boundaries and making sure I achieve my full potential.
Yeah? I’m the youngest, so my parents have lightened up. My brothers and sisters can’t believe the stuff they let me do. But the thing is I actually do work—well, harder than any of them ever did. Maybe I’m just dumber than they were. But there is no way I am ever going to do this again!
Do what?
The HSC. Nuh, I want out of school and into uni so I can get on with things, and if that means I’ve got to be a social nerd who sleeps with his books, I’ll live with it.
As soon as I saw you I knew you were a reject.
Assistant head of Green House was not only feisty, she was also not a very good liar. There was no way she thought rugby-playing Melbourne boy was anywhere near a reject.
So why get involved with the musical then?
He put on this fake voice.
’Cause I knew it was a way to get onto hot chicks in the area.
Shut up, you loser.
She launched into him with bad girl punches, laughing and flicking her hair.
It was settled. I wasn’t a major expert, but there was definite flirting on both sides. I could feel some of the bubbles on the Bubble Wrap begin to burst.
Can we have Polly and Tony back onstage, please?
They ignored Andrews and kept talking.
That means you two, onstage immediately!
Oh, us? Sorry, sir, we’re not used to the names.
Well, you had better get used to them.
It had been a long time since I was thankful for hearing Andrews’s voice, especially lately, but this was definitely one of those times.
Romeo
Hey, what do you know about that new Mark bloke?
Chris was normally good for information. He had to do a whole lot of meet and greet with the new kids, and he’s just one of those blokes—people meet him and in ten minutes they’ve spilled their guts. Especially girls.
Which new Mark bloke?
The one in Year Twelve. From Melbourne.
Oh yeah. The boys went over to his place the other Friday to watch the game. Seems all right. They were carrying on about him being the only forward with a brain.
Freak! This guy was sounding a little too perfect. Especially when you lined him up against a guitar-playing, pants-dropping underachiever like my good self.
What’s with the questions? Are we going to have one of those I’ve got something to tell you moments?
I looked at him, wondering what he was on about.
You know, one of those I’m questioning my sexuality—
Shut up, you wanker!
Well, you know they told us in Pastoral Care last year, it’s completely natural to question your sexuality and perhaps experiment …
No, you wanker, I mean I want to know if he’s seeing that girl from the musical.
What girl from the musical?
The one Jock waved at the other day—you know, I think she’s some sort of prefect.
You’d want to watch it, mate, cutting Jock’s grass.
I’m serious, Chris! She’s gorgeous!
Chris knew when to shut up.
I’ll ask around.
Chris, don’t say anything … Well, don’t mention my name. I don’t want anyone to think that I’m, you know …
… interested in Mark? Sure!
I bolted after him, but he’d taken off, bag and blazer flying out behind him, collecting Year 7s like bowling pins.
You’re going to get it, mate, I shouted.
His right of reply was the raising of the middle finger of his left hand as he disappeared around the corner of the quad.
Hangman
Chris was sitting next to me in English giving me the lowdown.
As far as I can make out he’s not seeing anyone. So you can go for it.
The joke’s an old one, Chris.
Loosen up, mate. Miss Assistant Head of Green, do you know her name?
Not her first name, I think I heard him call her Miss Zefferelli.
Yeah, well, I do … full name and status.
Andrews looked up from his desk.
Chris, Will, be quiet.
We put our heads down.
Tell me her bloody name! I whispered.
You heard Sir. He said we had to get on with our work. I can’t spoil my excellent reputation.
Actually he told us to shut up, not get on with our work. A major oversight on his behalf.
This time Andrews put down his pen and made direct eye contact with me.
William, talk again and you’ll be moved.
Yes, sir.
Chris smirked at me. See? he mouthed.
I then resorted to what any resourceful student throughout the centuries would have done—I passed Chris a note.
So tell me her bloody name.
It’s not that easy, my friend. Chris scrawled nine dashes. I challenge you to a game of hangman. Work it out and her name shall be revealed.
Finally we had a result. E-l-i-z-a-b-e-t-h.
Mr. Andrews had a very straight face as he spelled out the letters aloud but his eyes were belly laughing, I swear.
I can only conclude that as we are not currently studying Pride and Prejudice, this Elizabeth has nothing to do with English literature at all.
I had no idea how long he’d been standing there and it was too late to try to cover it up.
The class went mad. The usual chorus of Woooooo sounded from all corners of the room. I threw a pleading look at Chris, who could normally talk his way out of any tricky situation.
No, sir, you’re wrong. I was just helping Will find a … ahh … find an appropriate name for one of the female characters in his narrative.
Hangman, quite a unique method, Mr. Holden. You must excuse me, I thought you were discussing another Elizabeth. If my memory serves me correctly, there is an Elizabeth who has one of the lead parts in our school musical. Isn’t that right, Will?
He looked down at me. The room filled with hundreds of noises that translated to Will Armstrong, loser. I could feel that fire-engine red beginning to burn again. Only this time the alarms were ringing and the smoke was coming out my ears.
I was beaten and Andrews and I both knew it.
All right you lot, as interesting as Will’s life is, let’s get back to work.
I sat staring at my blank page. Humiliated. Someone was bound to know someone who knew someone who … And she was going to hear. That was how the rumor mill worked. I was a dead man.
Dead man
My humiliation in English got around the senior quad in a flash.
Hey, Willo. You grasscutter!
What?
You know, Head of Green. Her and me …