by Sara Farizan
She bites her bottom lip. “Was she prettier than me?” Seriously?
“No. There’s no one prettier than you,” I admit. Anastasia was adorable, but no one I’ve met before has Saskia’s supermodel good looks.
“Was she better at kissing than I was?” I don’t know why she’s asking, but I’m willing to risk a bold answer. I lean in to kiss her this time and she moans. I nearly die.
“No,” I answer at last. That isn’t exactly true, because nothing can really compete with the feeling of a first kiss . . . but I’m pretty sure an entire garden of Georgia O’Keeffe flowers has bloomed to life in my chest.
Seventeen
When Ms. Taylor comes back to school I’m glad, because I thought I would finally have someone to talk to about my lurid encounter with Saskia. Only I was right, she and Mr. Harris have broken up. She doesn’t say so explicitly, but in all her classes she’s really upset and gets weepy about totally mundane things. We started reading The Scarlet Letter.
“So Hester has to wear a scarlet A because she commits the sin of adultery. But there aren’t any men wearing something to show their sins. I mean, let’s say a man said he was ready to take the next step in a relationship and then backed out because he felt ‘overwhelmed.’ That man should then wear a scarlet C for cowardice, don’t you think?” No one can look away from Ms. Taylor as she rants.
Ashley mouths the word crazy to Robert, and Ms. Taylor must see her. Ms. Taylor’s eye twitches and she walks over to Ashley. Ashley shrinks in her seat a little.
“Ashley, with all of your gifts of perception, I’m surprised you weren’t able to find all the grammatical errors in your paper.” Lisa and I look at each other. Maybe the Mr. Harris/Ashley affair is more than just a rumor after all.
Ms. Taylor walks back to her desk. “No homework tonight. You guys can go.” The class files out. Robert doesn’t even wait for the door to close before he starts laughing hysterically. I linger behind and approach Ms. Taylor’s desk.
“Do you need anything?” I ask.
“Oh, no Leila, thank you. You’re very sweet. I guess I made a fool of myself today.”
“I don’t think anyone noticed,” I lie, giving her shoulder a light pat. Ms. Taylor begins to cry, and I really don’t know what to do. She wipes her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Leila, this is completely unprofessional. God, you’re so lucky you’re a lesbian.”
I panic, looking around just to double-check that, yes, we’re still the only two left in the classroom. Ms. Taylor takes a deep breath and blinks a few times.
“I think I’m dating a girl,” I whisper. She blinks and smiles.
“Oh, that’s nice! Good for you! I’m happy to hear it.”
“Thanks. And hey, you can do way better than Mr. Harris. He’s lame.” She shakes her head and puts her hands up.
“No, Leila, that’s sweet but you don’t have to take sides. He’s your teacher, too, and a respected member of the community, even though he’s confused about some things. Like what he looks for in a woman. Or whether he wants to have kids one day. But he’s a good man.
I nod.
“Are you still doing poorly in his class?”
I nod again.
“Well, study harder. Put your best foot forward and all that,” she says.
I smile and we both enter an awkward silence.
“I think I’m going to go to the nurse’s office,” Ms. Taylor finally says.
I head out the door.
There’s still time left in the class period and almost everyone from my English class is hanging around the hallway, gossiping about our once-mighty but now-fallen teacher. Lisa sits on a bench by herself and I sit down next to her.
“Is Ms. Taylor okay?” Lisa asks.
“I think so.”
“I guess she broke up with someone.”
“What tipped you off, Katz?” We both smile and she kicks my shoe with hers.
“How’s the play?”
“Almost over. You coming to the show?”
She shrugs.
“I’ll take that as a maybe.”
Eighteen
In spite of what I told Ms. Taylor, Saskia’s barely talked to me this week, since our kiss. I would ask her what her problem is, but I want to keep things cool. I don’t want to seem needy, clingy, or insecure—even though I am. I caught up with her backstage before a tech rehearsal, mostly to double-check her last-minute blocking.
“Hey, Saskia, I just wanted to go over where the lights are going to be hitting you.” She grins and pulls me into her.
“I’m sorry I haven’t seen you lately,” she says. “I’ve been so busy.” I look around and make sure no one is watching. “I’ve decided to have a party at my place once the play is over. You can sleep over if you want.”
I hold on to my clipboard tightly. “Okay, yeah, that’d be cool.”
She smiles and tilts her head to the left, looking me over. “It’s a shame we couldn’t work together onstage. I’d have loved to act with you.”
“Me too,” I say before Tomas walks by. He raises his eyebrows and smirks while I quickly pull away from Saskia.
“Ladies, am I interrupting?”
“We’re just running lines, sweetie,” says Saskia, playing with the microphone on my headset. “See you two later.” Saskia skips out in her Shakespearean frock and I bite my lip, looking down at the stage. Tomas smiles and walks over to me.
“So. A lesbian, huh? I’m kind of grossed out but intrigued.”
“I’m not—”
“Uh-huh. It’s always the quiet ones.”
“Look, if you say anything,”
“Relax. Secret’s safe and all that. Though if you came out, it wouldn’t be that big a deal. You girls have it way easier.”
My mouth opens in shock.
“Two hot girls in high school? No problem, definitely encouraged by my straight male counterparts. However a gay guy—even one as handsome as myself? Not as cool. Double standards. High school breeds them. God, I can’t wait until college.”
I sit down on the stage ramp. “My parents don’t know,” I say. Tomas looks at me sympathetically.
“That’s a tough one.”
“How did your parents react?”
“Well, my mother cried for a month. She went on about the grandkids she wouldn’t have, and why couldn’t this have happened to her sister’s kids. I think my dad sort of knew for a while. He got me tickets to see Wicked last year. They aren’t crazy about it, but they got over it.”
“Yeah, but your parents aren’t from Iran.”
“No, but they’re uptight WASPs who have reputations at the country club. It’s just as difficult.” Tomas smiles and extends his hand down to me and tries to pull me up. “God, you weigh a ton.”
“I do not! I’m a decent size!”
“Okay, fatty.” He smiles and pinches my cheek. “Did we just gay-bond right now?”
I go to the booth and sit down beside Taryn. Christina is on the couch, sleeping.
“What are you so happy about?” Taryn asks.
“I just feel good, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh.” Taryn says. I can almost hear her eyes rolling.
I set up the cues. The lights go down and we’re ready to go.
It is finally the day of the play. Mom hands me a granola bar and says she’ll see me at the show. We kiss each other good-bye while Dad waits in the car, his NPR blasting. I hop in and he smiles.
“So the play is tonight?” Dad asks as though Mom hasn’t reminded him twenty times.
“Yeah. You don’t have to come—I’m backstage and everything.”
“I’ll try and make it. I’ll see how my schedule goes today.” There’s a news story about Iran – United States relations, and Dad turns up the volume. He’s been here for so many years, yet he still loves to be in the know about his former country. Iran’s like an ex-lover he can’t shake even though he’s fairly content with his wife, America.
D
ad listens to world events while I think about Saskia and the after-party. She asked me to sleep over, but . . . is she going to expect more than kissing? I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I don’t even know what to do! Should I pick up a manual or something?
“What has you so preoccupied, Leila joon?”
“Nothing! Nothing,” I say nervously.
“When this play’s finally over, maybe you can get back to studying?”
“Sure, Dad.”
“Good. You can’t be a doctor without a good feel for science. It just won’t work.” I want to bash my head on the dashboard. He still has hopes for me following in his footsteps, even though I’ve repeatedly said medicine isn’t for me. At least he has Nahal.
We pull up to the front entrance of the school and there’s Lisa, walking from her car. Dad puts the window down.
“Hi, Lisa! How are you?” he calls. Lisa turns and smiles.
“Hi, Dr. Azadi. I’m fine, thanks.”
“Haven’t seen you in a long time! Come by the house. My wife would love to cook eggplant stew for you!” I’m impressed that Dad remembers Lisa loved it when Mom made it. Lisa smiles again and waits for me while I exit the car, slamming the door behind me. Dad waves good-bye to us both and drives away.
“He loves you,” I tell Lisa. “You always call him Doctor instead of Mister.”
“Well, he earned those degrees, Mash’Allah!” Lisa says in faux seriousness. I raise my eyebrows in shock that she remembered a phrase that expresses joy and gratitude, and that she’s joking around. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still sad, angry, and depressed most days. Guess you just bring out my sunny side.” She gives me another small smile.
Lucky me. Greg walks up to us and does a double-take. He seems surprised to see Lisa speaking with me. “Hey, Leila, you ready for the show tonight?” he asks.
“I guess. Everyone’s worked pretty hard.”
“Cool. Well, break a leg,” he says before he dashes off to some of his guy friends. Lisa and I continue to walk toward the school.
“He’s still kind of in love with you,” Lisa says.
“We’re just friends.”
“So you’ve said. I don’t see it, either, but I guess he could grow on you. Like a tumor.” Lisa and I laugh and we walk by Ashley and her gang, sitting in the small alcove. I’ll leave her to her group, but getting Lisa to loosen up feels like a huge victory.
Nineteen
The show goes fantastically. The audiences for the first two performances are wowed. Taryn’s lighting cues really look like a thunderstorm. The dry ice Simone suggested gives a nice fog effect when Tess lies onstage in a tattered dress, as though she has really washed ashore. The Illyria set is designed to look like a modern-day mansion. The wings of the stage are painted to look like the seashore, with blue fabric billowing from the breeze of a small fan nearby. All the actors are dressed in modern clothing, but they are speaking in Shakespearean English. We figured it’d be more relatable to our peers, or at least, fewer people would fall asleep.
The third and final night, we have our biggest audience—a full house. Tess is doing her usual incredible job of pretending to be a man and speaking with Orsino. Tonight, though, she looks a little sweaty, even from up in the lighting booth. But things are going fine, or so I think until my headset crackles to life, and I hear Tomas freaking out. “Leila! Leila! Oh God!”
“What is it?” I ask, hoping Tomas is panicking about something stupid, like a cute boy being in the audience.
“It’s Tess! She’s really sick! Mr. Kessler is back here with her! She’s throwing up in a bucket! What do we do?”
Before I can answer, Mr. Kessler has grabbed Tomas’s headset. “Know all your lines, Leila? ’Cause you’re on. Let Taryn take over, and you come here as quickly and as quietly as possible.”
He’s having me fill her role! I am her understudy, after all, though I am terrified and hope to God I remember half my lines. I take off my headset and fling it on the light board.
“Something’s wrong with Tess! They need me backstage! Christina, wake up!” The vampire girl sleeping on the couch behind us continues to snore. “CHRISTINA! WAKE UP!”
Christina sits up, blinking, and yells a little. I drag her over to my stool at the light board and plop the headset on.
“Christina, all the notes for the light changes are marked in this script. Taryn knows what to do, but you need to guide her, okay? I’ll buy you a pair of fangs if you don’t mess this up.”
Taryn gives me a nod of approval, and I quietly exit the booth, trying not to disturb the audience as I find my way backstage.
When I get there, Tomas throws a costume in my face. “You’d better get dressed. You go on in a couple minutes.” He starts to fuss with my hair.
I see Saskia onstage, proudly acting her part, and know the audience is eating it up. Then I see Tess, hunched over in the corner, pale and glistening with sweat. I put on my costume in a hurry, and Mr. Kessler comes over to deliver his version of a pep talk.
“Well, Leila, this is unexpected. But life is like that sometimes and I see this as a good time to build character. Like when I got fired and I saw it as an opportunity to pursue my love of bluegrass and started a band. Granted, the band didn’t go anywhere, but still, lots of fun! So let’s look at this as a positive experience!” I nod nervously while Tomas puts a false mustache on my upper lip.
“All right,” he says. “No pressure or anything, but this show is depending on you now. It’s just a high school play. No big deal. But, you know, you’re the lead. You do know your lines, right?” I nod again.
“All right, you’re up. Try not to fart out there,” Mr. Kessler says with a chuckle.
He really couldn’t be more inspirational. “I’ll do my best.” I take one last look at Tess, who gives me a weak smile before throwing up in the bucket again. I smile back sympathetically, and Tomas pushes me onstage.
I stumble as I make my entrance. I see the Carrs looking confused and whispering about what could have happened to Tess. My family’s in the audience, too. Mom makes a little clapping motion, and my dad is smiling widely. Nahal edges to the front of her seat and films me on her phone. I look to my left and see Saskia. My throat catches as she gives me a sly smirk.
I deliver my first line. “The honorable lady of the house, which is she?”
Saskia licks her lips before she answers. “Speak to me; I shall answer for her. Your will?” She raises her eyebrows and my mouth goes dry.
The auditorium is quiet for a few moments, and I can hear Tomas whispering lines to me. I think the entire audience can hear him. I have to keep going, and the next line comes from my mouth:
“Most radiant, exquisite and unmatchable beauty.”
As the play continues I don’t mess up too badly, and all in the audience seem to be enjoying themselves. I definitely hear my dad laugh louder than he should, and I don’t think he even really knows what is going on in the play, but God love him anyway. Soon I’m in another scene with Saskia, and her character, Olivia, is falling in love with my Cesario character. We have a good rhythm and chemistry going. That is, until she gets really, really close to me.
“Stay, I prithee, tell me what thou think’st of me.” She takes my hand and my heart thumps a little louder.
“That you do think you are not what you are.” I recite.
“If I think so, I think the same of you.” She’s giving me googly eyes. I don’t really think she’s acting now.
“Then think you right: I am not what I am.”
I am not what I am. I am not what I am.
“I would you were as I would have you be!” And then she does it. In front of the whole audience, my parents, my uptight sister, the Carrs, Ms. Taylor, and the popular girls. She kisses me. It’s a little peck, but I freak out because that is definitely not in the script. And then, it happens.
I go blank. I don’t remember what to do or where to go. I can only blink at the audience in fright.
>
Tomas is yelling lines to me like I’m a first grader, which makes the audience laugh. When I break away, shocked, and run offstage, Saskia finishes the scene with delicious comic timing.
I shyly get through the rest of the play somehow. The audience is very kind and forgiving of my impromptu performance. At the end of the show Saskia takes my hand before we bow. As I rise from the bow, I see my parents standing and applauding. Ms. Taylor cheers; Tomas is in the wings, jumping up and down. I notice there’s one person walking out of the auditorium already. It’s Lisa Katz, but I’m sort of surprised she even came.
In the lobby my parents greet me and tell me I did a great job. The cast members chat and hug. Tomas is already talking to Mr. Kessler about the next season’s production. Ms. Taylor congratulates me on my performance.
“You did a great job, Leila.”
“Thanks, Ms. Taylor. I did my best, but obviously I didn’t know I’d be going onstage.”
“It’s too bad about Tess. I know she was excited about her role. She looked like she wasn’t feeling too well from the beginning of the evening. And I heard she was great in the first two performances.” Ms. Taylor leans in a little closer and whispers to me. “Have a great night, superstar!” She grins, tousles my hair, and walks away.
Amid all the celebrating, I have to pee. In the bathroom I find Saskia. She’s wiped off all her stage makeup and is changing clothes out in the open. She’s topless, about to put on a bra, but she doesn’t bother to go into a stall.
“Hello, Viola! Wonderful performance tonight!” I turn my head away and she laughs at my bashful behavior.
“You did a good job tonight, Saskia. That kiss was unexpected.”
“I thought I’d give you a surprise.” Saskia grins as she opens up her tube of mascara. “You were so much better than Tess. She was such a ham the previous shows. We had no chemistry. I’d get lost staring at her acne instead of your gorgeous eyes.” Saskia brushes her eyelashes with the mascara.
“Listen, I wish I could come to the party tonight, but I don’t think I can. I don’t really do well at parties,” I say. “But you’ll have plenty of fun with the whole cast and crew and everything.”