The Gay Teen's Guide to Defeating a Siren_Book 2_The Siren

by Cody Wagner

  I stared, mouth open, as he walked to the podium and signed his name. He was a wrestler before coming to Sanctuary and had stocky, solid build. His red t-shirt was tight, but it just served to highlight his broad shoulders. His brown hair was so messy, it was perfect. Long story short, Timothy Howeth intimidated the hell out of me.

  My eyes remained fixed on him as he turned and walked up the steps into the audience. He wasn’t cocky, but had a calm air about him. The guy was just effortless. Even when he pretended to be a jock in Pamata, he pulled off their cool demeanor without even trying.

  I found myself slouching in my seat. I didn’t know why. First of all, he barely knew I existed. I mean, he did hug me and said some really nice things when Jimmy died. And he and I had a fun skirmish over Halloween last year. But that was really it. He was way too cool for me.

  And that’s when he saw me, grinned, and headed my way.

  For some reason, I did that thing where I pretended I didn’t see him and stared down at nonexistent papers in my hand. I thought that would be that—and he’d join students way smoother than me—but he kept coming.

  Finally, when I couldn’t avoid him any longer, I looked up, acted surprised—like I hadn’t just been gawking at him—and said, “Hey, guy!”

  Hey, guy? That was the dumbest thing ever. I pinched my leg as punishment and threw on a smile.

  His grin widened. “Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Trales.” He gestured at the chair next to me. “May I?”

  I just stared at him, my mouth not working. He wanted to sit next to me? I almost asked why, when I remembered the leg pinch and came to my senses. Trying to act calm, I said, “Sure.”

  There. That was a simple, easy response.

  He plopped down next to me and I noticed his legs were stocky and muscular, just like his shoulders.

  “I didn’t know you acted?” he said.

  My eyes snapped up to his face. He had one of those Cheshire Cat smiles that was so engaging.

  A goofy grin found its way onto my face. “I just figured I’d give it a shot.” I gestured at the stage. “I’m new, though, so I wanna start backstage and help out.” That’s all I wanted to say about my being at the audition, so I turned the question back to him, saying, “You?”

  He nodded at me, as if thinking to himself, before saying, “I’ve never done it, either. But I wanted to give it a shot this year. For Jimmy.”

  I shot straight up in my chair. “What?”

  “It sounds weird, but there you go.”

  “No, it’s not that…” I fumbled for words. Timothy was here for the same reason as me? That’s why I’d put him on such a pedestal. First, he’d saved me. Now, he was here because of Jimmy. On top of that, he wasn’t even embarrassed to admit it. I suddenly noticed how amazingly blue his eyes were and I turned away.

  Still, I whispered, “That’s why I’m here, too.”

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  Part of me wanted to ask how close he was to Jimmy. I knew that, in addition to me, he’d also brought Jimmy to Sanctuary. They were also chummy when I saw them together last year. But that was only a time or two. From what I saw, they ran in different circles. That made the fact Timothy came here even more impressive.

  “He was amazing in the play last year.”

  I looked at him. “You were there?”

  “Yep.”

  “I didn’t see you.”

  He laughed. “That’s because you were too busy gawking at Jimmy and mouthing every word of the play along with him.”

  My entire face felt like a thousand acupuncture needles had been jammed into it. “What?”

  “I thought you were about to stand up and interpretive dance his scenes.”

  “Lies!”

  He laughed. “We’ll just agree to disagree.”

  I couldn’t argue with him because he was right. A Jimmy I’d never seen before appeared on stage that night. And I was captivated by his performance. I figured everyone else was, too, but I was mistaken. No, I think everyone was captivated. I was just the idiot who’d tranced out.

  “Did I really mouth along with him?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t even watching the play. I just read your lips.”

  I slunk down in my seat. “Oh my god.”

  He pushed his elbow against mine. “It was cute.”

  I froze as electricity shot up my arm. And I realized I was grinning like I’d just won a new Ferrari.

  He noticed and said, “Don’t get cocky, though.”

  That wasn’t an issue. Around Timothy, I felt about as confident as an adult wearing a full diaper. Honestly, I still couldn’t believe he’d bypassed other friends—who occasionally turned to look at us—to sit with me.

  Still, the thought he’d chosen me was pretty cool. Not only that, but he’d kind of searched me out. I found myself smiling again.

  And that’s when everything came crumbling down.

  “Trales, you’re up,” a voice said.

  I jerked in my seat and looked at the stage. A girl stood there, holding a clipboard and looking around.

  “Huh?” My voice cracked as I spoke.

  A few people laughed.

  Timothy leaned over and said, “I think it’s your turn to audition.” He held up a couple pieces of paper. They must have been the monologue we were performing. I hadn’t even grabbed a copy.

  I started shaking my head. “That’s impossible.” My leg bounced up and down. I only wanted to be backstage. I couldn’t audition. Especially not with Timothy watching.

  Timothy leaned over. “Why is it impossible?”

  I couldn’t tell him the truth: that I was terrible. I’d actually had dreams about this exact scenario, where I was forced to audition without knowing any lines. I might as well have stripped down to my underwear and made it a bona fide nightmare.

  “Trales!”

  If Timothy wasn’t here, I would have looked around, pretending to scan for this “Trales” person, then disappeared under my seat until the audition ended. But Timothy was here. And he was smiling reassuringly as he watched my terrified face.

  “Just read the words on the page and you’ll be fine.” He pushed his audition into my hand and patted my leg.

  “Won’t you need these?” I said, gesturing at the papers.

  He shrugged. “I’ll just grab another copy when I go up there for my audition.”

  I gaped at him. How was he so casual about this?

  “TRALES!”

  “I’m coming! God!”

  A few people, including Timothy, laughed.

  I rose to my feet, thinking, RUN! But I didn’t run. Instead, I inched my way to the stage thinking, What’s the worst than can happen?

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  I knew that voice and found Darrin rolling his eyes. Ms. Burton, the theater teacher, smiled but her eyes were skeptical. Last year, I’d performed Jimmy’s monologue in front of them. I was apparently so bad, Darrin had accused me of mocking his play. Obviously, he hadn’t forgotten.

  “I just wanna help backstage,” I whispered.

  Ms. Burton flashed a sympathetic smile, leaned forward, and whispered, “Everyone has to audition, dear.” Then she added, “Sorry.”

  A few people snickered.

  Why me? I thought, glancing at the pages. The scene was a monologue by the lead character named Jeffrey. Jimmy invaded my head. He would have made an amazing lead. Thinking of Jimmy, my purpose for being here hit me again. I was here for him, not to impress people. He mattered, not the stupid students giggling at me.

  Resolution hit, and I started reading the scene to myself. A few impatient throats cleared, and I ignored them. I was at least going to familiarize myself with the words.

  In the scene, the character spoke about why he ran away from home after coming out. I gathered that was a theme in Darrin’s works at it had come up last year. The monologue was well-written, of course. It sounded like dialogue I’d actually use
. It still amazed me how he could write this awesome stuff, and at the same time, create things like Patented Breathing Rings to ruin Tracey.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Ms. Burton said.

  I nodded. My hand shook as I held the paper up. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, looked straight ahead, and began reading the lines.

  A few sentences in, I thought I was doing OK. Jeffrey, the main character, said the word world, and it felt important, so I gestured in a big circle in front of me. Stressing every other word felt Shakespearean, so I did that, too.

  The snickers started halfway through. They jarred me out of the moment and I saw a group of girls covering their mouths. My gaze found Darrin and Ms. Burton. He was looking at the wall to his left, furious. Ms. Burton’s eyes were so wide, I thought they might pop out. But she still wore that fake encouraging smile.

  I lowered the paper without reading the next paragraph. “Um, yeah. I’m really bad. How about I just help backstage?”

  A few people clapped.

  “We’d love to have you!” Ms. Burton said, way too enthusiastically.

  In the moment, I thought I was going to die of embarrassment. My tombstone would have been bright red, just like my face. I’d still be gripping the audition pages in my coffin.

  That’s when Timothy rose and gave me a standing ovation.

  And not just any ovation. He clapped and screamed and called for an encore. Heads turned to watch him. I took advantage and slunk offstage.

  My legs were jelly as I made my way back. But I let out a huge breath. It had gone much worse than I’d expected . . . but it was over. And Timothy was grinning as I sat next to him.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “Not my finest moment.”

  “At least you did it.”

  I shrugged, then noticed he was still smiling.

  “What?” I said.

  “I’m just curious WHY you STARTED stressing EVERY other WORD.”

  That caught me off guard and a laugh slipped out. “It felt artistic.”

  He grinned. “I approve.”

  “Yeah? Does that mean you’re going to do it?”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Not a chance on earth?” I said, gesturing in a big circle like I had onstage.

  That caught Timothy off guard and he laughed out loud. Then he gave me what was definitely a flirty look. I swear his eyes sparkled at me.

  I blushed big time.

  “Clair Charles!”

  That jerked me out of my little Timothy world and I looked to the front as a guy went onstage. For the next half hour, Timothy and I watched and graded each performance. Instead of real grades, Timothy noted what he liked about each performance. At first, I thought that was nice of him. Then, I noticed he seemed to be taking notes.

  “Are you trying to learn how to act?” I finally asked, after he whispered that he liked how a girl’s eyebrows moved and he began moving his own.

  “I might as well learn what I can.”

  I squinted at him. “And you’ve never acted before.”

  “Other than playing Sheep Number Two in a Christmas play, nope.”

  I looked at the stage. “This should be fun.”

  “Don’t you mean THIS should BE fun?”

  “Shut it.”

  Just then, a voice announced, “Timothy Howeth.”

  My body tensed up. I was actually nervous for him. Apparently, I was the only one. Timothy stood and calm as ever, said, “Time to put everything I’ve just learned to practice.”

  “Break a leg,” I said.

  With that, he proceeded to walk to the stage as if it were nothing. He climbed the steps and turned out, smiling.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Ms. Burton said.

  Timothy burst into a grin. “Oh, I need the audition pages.”

  “You don’t have them?” It was Darrin. If it were me, his voice would have been accusatory. But he didn’t sound put out at all. I guess even he respected Timothy. Maybe Timothy had put in him a wrestling choke hold last year.

  I smiled at the thought as Timothy ran to the edge of the stage and crabbed a copy of the audition. Perusing it, he strolled back to the center and turned around.

  And then he proceeded to give us one of the best auditions of the night.

  While he wasn’t as good as Jimmy, Timothy brought a natural quality to his character. Whereas everyone else seemed like they were acting, Timothy came off as a real person. I found myself shaking my head in awe.

  When Timothy finished, the entire auditorium applauded. Timothy shrugged, put the paper back near the podium, and strolled back to me. Then he sat down without a word. He grinned, though, waiting for me to speak.

  “How did you do that?” I finally asked.

  “I didn’t try.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He looked at me, eyes sparkling again. “Everyone’s trying too hard.”

  “Including me?”

  He laughed. “Especially you.”

  “I didn’t want to look like an idiot up there.”

  He pointed at me. “And that’s why you tried too hard.”

  I crossed my arms. “Easier said than done.”

  He patted my knee again. “Definitely. And I’m not judging.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “Well, I was pretty amazing.”

  I reached out and gave him a mocking pat on the back. It was the first time I’d touched him. And he flinched. I felt it. It was tiny, but I caught it. My insides smiled. A touch from me was the first thing that had caught him off guard.

  Timothy instantly regained his composure. “Thanks for agreeing.”

  Before I could respond, Ms. Burton stood and turned to face us. “Well, that’s it for tonight. We’ll post callbacks tomorrow, conduct them Saturday afternoon, and post the final cast and crew list on Monday.”

  Everyone stood and began filing out. Timothy and I waited until the line was half gone before joining the procession. Ms. Burton caught him on the way out.

  “Why have you never auditioned here before?”

  “I’ve been busy at the farm.”

  Now it was my turn to flinch. Timothy worked at a small farm located at the northwest end of campus that made some of the vegetables served in the cafeteria. He’d mentioned my helping out, but I never did. I suddenly regretted it and imagined hoeing a field next to him. It was the dumbest image ever, but I blushed again.

  “OK, I’ll see you Saturday,” Timothy was saying to Ms. Burton.

  “Huh?” I said.

  “For the callbacks,” Timothy said.

  Ms. Burton looked embarrassed. I was sure it was because I wasn’t getting a callback, and she didn’t want to tell me.

  “I so hope I don’t get one,” I said.

  She relaxed and shrugged. “Well, you’ll just have to see.”

  Timothy noticed the change in her demeanor and busted out laughing as we left the building.

  “She cracks me up,” Timothy said.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had a moment with her that wasn’t awkward,” I said, grinning. Then I just stood there, nodding at him for like ten seconds. I’m sure I had a dumb grin on my face. I don’t know what brought it on, but that’s what happened. Maybe I was just waiting to see what he’d do.

  Finally, Timothy said, “I have to run by the farm really quick.”

  That wasn’t what I’d expected, and part of me felt disappointed. It was a fun night and I’d kinda hoped we’d walk back to the dorms together. But another part of me was relieved. I mean, I could leave on a high note. Kind of.

  “OK,” I replied.

  “But I’ll see you Monday for the cast posting?”

  “Definitely.” And then I pointed my hands at him like they were pistols. He grimaced, and I winced, thinking, What the hell was that? It was time to bolt before that high note cracked and started shattering the windows.

  Without saying anything else, I turned around.

 
“It was cool tonight.”

  I turned to see Timothy’s eyes sparkling again. I let out a deep breath and said, “Definitely,” without the finger pistols.

  Then I turned and walked back to the dorms, analyzing every word he’d said.

  Seven

  The Bruiser

  The following Monday inched by in slow motion. At lunch, I ignored my enchiladas and kept staring at the clock. I wouldn’t see Timothy for hours, but that didn’t stop me from obsessing over him. I counted each second as the hands clawed their way around.

  “You guys, who am I?” Tracey stared off at nothing and let drool run down her mouth.

  She was making fun of me in her usual sarcastic valley girl voice. As expected, Roze ignored her. Cassie didn’t, but she spoke to me instead of Tracey.

  “You have been really distracted.”

  I blushed, knowing I’d been thinking about Timothy a lot. Too much, in fact. I knew I had work that needed doing—that Edison paper wouldn’t write itself and I’d barely looked into Robert Blackwood—but I kept replaying my conversation with Timothy in my head. Part of me tried to think of wittier comments. I’d even been practicing a new, more attractive laugh. Roze said it reminded her of Hyenas: The Musical when I randomly tried it out. But I’d been honing it all weekend.

  Crazy laugh or no, I couldn’t let them know why my mind was elsewhere, so I said, “Adkins said we were doing The Bruiser today.”

  Cassie squinted at me, knowing I’d skirted the issue.

  Tracey seemed to buy it. Of course, she was never interested in anything we had to say. Barely acknowledging me, she said, “Can you just picture Coach Adkins running it?”

  “Actually, I can,” Roze said. “He’s pretty built.”

  “Yeah, but all that body hair,” Tracey replied. “He wouldn’t be able to move with the wind resistance.”

  She grinned at us, but no one smiled back.

  This time, disappointment registered on her face, and she looked down at her food. I’m sure she was thinking, My old group would have loved that. And it was true. I could even picture Luke and Darrin pretending to lean against the wind, torrents of body hair slowing their progress. But Tracey wasn’t getting her old group back.