Little Annotations | Tristan Dugray

chapter eighteen

"They're social experiments," Genevieve muttered, "We're going to be in a research paper you guys,"

Hestia nudged her, "The summer started and there they were, all three of them, side by side."

"You'd think that they have a crush on Tristan the way they're always hanging around him." She said, "That's not the point. Rehearsals are weekdays after school till seven. I'll get back to you about weekends, but keep them clear or I'll kill you."

"Yes ma'am." All of them chorused. It was going to be the easiest A of their life

. . .

Paris and Genevieve both were the first ones of their group in the cafeteria. Paris wanted to start on costumes to get it out of the way firsthand, so she excused herself to go through the costume room- which was across the school. One by one, the group members began filing in, sitting quietly around the table.

"Who are you?" She asked as a vaguely familiar boy sat down.

"Brad..." He said, "Third period?"

"He's the answer to our lack of boys problem!" Hestia said, "Isn't that swell."

"Uh." She looked at him, "Sure. So I assume you all are warmed up?"

"Warmed up?" Rory asked, "Why do we need to be warmed up?"

"Gonna pretend you didn't ask that," She said, filing through papers, "What's taking Paris so long?"

"The box's heavy," She came through the door with a huge box, "Elizabethan costumes, enough for us to try and pick our favorites."

"Wasn't the point to-"

"We have the death scene," Genevieve explained, "It's iconic, so my idea was that we keep it Elizabethan and just step up the acting... You can act right Brad?"

"I was- I- Yes?"

"I wanna be Juliet," She said, and Paris seemed surprised.

"Really? I was gonna recommend Rory,"

"Rory, can you recognize iambic pentameter, masculine, and feminine endings?"

"Juliet is all yours Gen," Rory said without a fight. She knew better than to fight over positions with Paris or Genevieve.

"We're short on boys, which makes you Romeo by default." Genevieve set the sword down in front of him, "Can. You. Act. Brad?"

"Yes ma'am," He swallowed.

"Delphine, you're the Friar,"

"Yes ma'am," She mockingly saluted, a smirk fell on her face when she saw Tristan walking into the room- without a care in the world.

"Well, well, the gang's all here."

"We're busy. Go away." Genevieve deadpanned, and he faltered. The first words she spoke to him in almost three weeks were words of dismissal.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry I'm late," Tristan made no move to leave, instead he dropped his bag on the floor with a thump and sat down.

"What are you doing?" She said plainly. Whenever she was pissed off at people, she always seemed to hide her emotions so well that she seemed lifeless when they spoke to her.

"Uh, Professor Anderson forgot to include me when she made groups, so she told me to pick one."

"And you happened to pick the most complicated one? You have four other acts to choose from." She asked, "I have to express my worry about your commitment to the group, given your recent record."