Johnny V. Orlando Imagines :)

this damned school play pt. 5

"Mr. Orlando, Ms. l/n, i'm sure there's a good reason for the late entrance." Mrs. Cullen raises a questioning eyebrow, looking at us curiously. I nod unconvincingly, not daring to glance at the boy centimeters away from me. "well, care to share with the class?" she pushes further.

my mouth opens and closes and I can't think of a lie quick enough, so John explains for me . . . just not in the way I expected. "well, Mrs. Cullen you see, we were a bit preoccupied. if you know what I mean." shock overtakes me, and intensifies when I twist my head to see him pointing to his lips with a suggestive smirk.

Johnny hunches over in pain after I elbow him in the ribs. "i'm sorry Mrs. Cullen. he can't seem to behave today." I say, hearing giggles and laughs coming from all over the room.

her lips turn into a small smile. "okay, but next time I won't let this go too easily." nodding us towards our seats, she continues class instruction. walking down the aisle of desks feels like it takes years rather than seconds and I just know he's entertaining all the kids we pass while I can't see.

f/n is barely holding in what I think may be a scream as I settle in my chair. "well?!" she whisper-shouts at me.

in order to not attract any unwanted attention I keep my eyes set forward, acting like I don't see Darius teasing John—undoubtedly about what just went down—and shrug. "'well' what?" I ask, finally looking her in the eyes.

"well, you two were totally just busted and the whole class witnessed it." my unbothered expression doesn't falter, shocking her even more. "oh come on, y/n! all of the signs are there. his hair is messy, so is yours. not showing up to lunch, showing up late to class together." i'm about to tell her that she's over-thinking everything, in hopes of the subject being dropped but she keeps going. "and not to mention there's a red blotch on your neck that looks a few seconds away from being a hickey." upon hearing that my eyes widen to saucers and my hand flies to cover the side of my neck she motioned to.

with my other hand I fumble to grab my phone out of my book-bag and click on the camera. sure enough, a light red mark placed not too far below my ear. f/n laughs at how flabbergasted I look. luckily it's light enough to not draw attention if I just keep my hair over my shoulder. great.

~

sunday / the day of the play

my nerves started late last night and only intensified when I woke up. honestly, the past few weeks have gone by so fast that I keep pinching myself to make sure i'm not dreaming. I never am.

Mrs. Cullen made it very clear at the end of rehearsal yesterday that all cast and crew must arrive five to six hours early. in order to set up props, get dressed in our costumes, as well as our makeup and hair, and make sure everything was ready. lighting had to be perfect, background music had to play loud enough with the press of a button and most importantly, cast members had to make sure they know every one of their lines.

so, just an hour after I woke up this morning I was in the car with my mother, on the way to the school. before driving off she told me that her and dad would be in the front row of the audience, beside John's family.

entering the auditorium I wasn't surprised to see commotion everywhere, nor was I surprised to hear Mrs. Cullen's raised voice instructing at least four different people a minute. she spotted me fast, motioning me towards her after calling my name. she stood in between rows two and three with, what is probably the script, in her hands. there are two students a row up that she's explaining something to, but I don't bother to listen in.

I set my bag with my change of clothes for afterwards down a couple of seats away, finally noticing Johnny sitting down next to where she stood. a subtle smirk plays on his lips as his eyes stay on the lines of his script, flickering up to me once, winking, and looking back down. Mrs. Cullen didn't see, and if she did she didn't show it, dismissing the previous students from in front of her.