Psyche's Wings

Chapter 7

"He is avoiding me," I concluded.

It was Friday, and since he'd agreed to be my partner in English class, Constant Gray had hardly spoken two words to me. After class, he'd grabbed his pack, rushed from the room, and disappeared. If I spotted him between classes, he ignored me, and I hadn't seen him after school since the first day.

As Lauren, Avery, and Dennis walked me to my first meeting of Drama Club, I expressed my growing frustration.

"So, forget him!" Dennis said, slinging an arm around my shoulders and squishing me against his side. "Who needs him, when you got us?"

Dennis had shown and taught me many things already that week, and now he declared we were 'best mates,' and that I was 'his boy.'

Lauren laughed when he said these things, but Avery was more apt to frown, leaving me uncertain which was the proper response.

"But do you not think he is lonely?" I asked. "I am indeed fortunate to have fallen in with such good company, but he is friendless."

"That's his choice," Dennis argued. "You know what they say: 'you can lead a horse to water, but you can't push him in.'"

"It's 'make him drink,' idiot," Avery said.

"Whatever." Dennis rolled his eyes at her. "Point is, don't waste your time. Now come on and meet the rest of your new clan."

~ ❀~

The 'auditorium' was grand beyond my dreams — a true theatre, with rows and rows of seats, a balcony, and a stage both broad and deep. The lights were low, the air scented with wood and dust, and the atmosphere rich with the promise and excitement of 'opening night.'

At the front of the hall, gathered near the stage, were the rest of the Drama Club.

The teacher's name was Mr. Hao, but he asked us to call him 'Dave,' and I found him rather alarming, at first.

"Well, well, well! What has the cat dragged in?" he called as we made our way towards him down the long aisle. "Dennis, Avery, and Lauren — the terrible trois. And you brought me fresh meat, I see."

He looked me up and down as he said this, and for a moment, I was afraid I'd been led into some awful trap, but then he gave me a friendly wave, and I understood (as Ari had carefully explained was often the case when people said such things) that he was not 'being literal.'

"Hey there," he said, holding out his hand to me. "I'm Mr. Hao, but I only make the bad kids call me that, and there are no bad kids here. So, you can call me Dave."

"Hello, Mr. Dave," I said shyly, not quite able to meet his eyes.

After Ms. Harper, I'd become wary of teachers.

He waited, just holding my hand, until I looked up. Then he grinned.

He had black hair streaked with gray, which he wore in a ponytail, lively dark eyes, and a face that lit up when he smiled.

"It's just Dave," he said. "And you are?"

"F-Fenn. Fenn Dayraven," I said — or tried. It came out rather softly.

"Fenn Dayraven," he repeated with thoughtful gravity. "That... is an excellent stage name! You have much experience treading the boards, Fenn?"

"Only a — a little," I said. "I've learned... a bit of Shakespeare."

I had told Ari and Soren about English class, and Soren had reminded me that most people did not have whole plays memorized — much less thirty-seven of them.