Hate Thy Neighbor

{Ch. 2}

Reese grins, "Wish I would've watched Christmas movies," he adds in realization, "I knew something was missing this year." Reese is fairly new to this school and must not have gotten the memo about how weird and isolated I am, especially in this class.

I grin back uncomfortably. "Your break sounded much more fun honestly." Reese told the class he went on a skiing trip and went to a Christmas party with close family. I've never skied before and I probably never will.

He sighed, "It would've been better if I was able to just chill, you know. My mom and dad planned so much and wanted everything to be perfect. It was way too much."

I didn't know what else to say, so I just turned my attention back to my desk.

"Are you trying out for the musical?" he asks me, changing the subject.

My entire being radiated. "Yes, are you?"

"Yep," he replies, "I'm trying out for a small role."

"Why not a bigger role?" I inquire.

"It's my first time ever doing this kind of thing."

"It's my first time too," I share, "I'm thinking of trying out for the male lead."

"Think you'll pull it off?"

I shrug, "I'm not entirely sure."

"What made you, of all people, want to try out for the musical? I mean, you're so quiet and not the typical kind of person I expected to be interested in that kind of thing. You don't give off outgoing vibes." The moment he realized the implications in his question, he looked apologetic. "Sorry, I didn't mean it the way it came out, Moxwell."

I nod in understanding. "It's okay. It's a fair question, considering, well, me." I pause, trying to think of a coherent reason as to why I am the way I am and why I'm into something as...outgoing as theatre performance. "U-um, I don't know, I just see it as pretend and make-believe. You know, I don't have to be me—I can pretend to be someone else," I uncomfortably avert my eyes from his, as I become aware of how weird I must appear to him.

"That makes sense." I look at him in surprise. He understands? I actually made sense? "So, basically, it's like an escape from reality?"

I nod vehemently, "Yes, exactly that. I'm like a different person." As I ease myself in his presence, I add, "I take IB Theatre, which is a huge reason why I'm trying out." Alongside theatre, my mom played a role in my decision as well. She encouraged me to take a class out of my comfort zone when I was registering for high school as an incoming freshman. She told me that if I didn't like the class the first week, I could drop it and she'd support my decision. Right off the bat, I knew art centered courses were out of my comfort zone, so at orientation, I met up with several teachers from the art department, but one teacher in particular stood out to me—the theatre teacher, Mr. Dinh. While all of the other teachers blabbed on about the rigorous syllabi of the courses, Mr. Dinh immediately told me that I'd fit right into his class, which took me off guard.

"You, will definitely find your place in my class," he said as he made direct eye contact with me. I flickered my eyes at him in confusion and he picked up immediately on my body language. "I know you're thinking, 'What's this crazy middle-aged Vietnamese man talking about?', but I know you. You're reserved, probably just trying to get a feel for something outside of your usual bubble and I'm here to tell you, it's the right place. Wanna know why?" I nodded quickly. "Well, first and foremost, theatre involves becoming another person, telling their story in your way, your interpretation—it's a space free of your personal worries, like a getaway from life." 

It was from that moment on that I held onto everything he was saying to me and I knew right then and there that theatre was going to be the class I chose. Unlike the other teachers, Mr. Dinh talked to me, not at me. I actually felt myself calming down around him, which was rare. From that point on, I took Theatre I and Theatre II during my freshman and sophomore years and then planned to take the IB Theatre class, which was also broken up into two parts, during my junior and senior years.

"That's cool," Reese comments, "I heard Dinh was chill as hell."

"He is," I reply, grinning, "He's my favorite teacher honestly." Dinh encouraged me to try out for school plays and musicals every year, but I always declined with the excuse of me not being ready to do that kind of thing just yet—I was perfectly content with sticking within the bubble of his class. Mr. Dinh encouraged me to try out for the fall play earlier this school year, but I just wasn't up to it, and then he pointed out to me that I was sticking within my comfort zone yet again, only difference was that I grew entirely too comfortable in his class and his class only. He also went on to offer me extra credit if I tried out for the musical this year, which tempted me even more so.

"I heard the class takes trips to performances and watches musicals and plays a lot."

"We do," I respond, wistfully recalling all of the relaxing days in his class, "We watch and then we have discussions on it."

"Oh, like the technical aspect of things?"

Before I could answer, Mr. Terrin proceeded with class and told us to pull out our textbooks to discuss our homework over break.

When class was over, Reese caught up to me in the hallway and said, "I hope you get the role you want."

"Thanks," I remark, "I hope you also get the role you desire."

***

As Moxwell sped off, Reese eyed him in amusement. Moxwell is the youngest person in English and for the longest time, Reese always wondered about the peculiar fella. Moxwell eats alone, reads alone, studies alone, sits alone, does everything alone unless someone invasively interrupts him. Moxwell can show obvious signs of discomfort but others insist on continuing interaction with him.

How can someone so remote be into theatre? It's a weird combination, but nevertheless, makes him that much more interesting. His thoughts are interrupted as he witnesses Moxwell's books being smacked out of his hands by Nate Stafford, who erupts laughter from others around. Moxwell quickly scrambles to get his things up and scurries away.

Immediate anger becomes of Reese. He storms Nate's way and shoves him. "What's your issue?"

He shoves Reese back. "Nothing, brother," he becomes angry as well.

"How about you leave him alone?"

"Why? It's funny," Nate dryly replies, chuckling. "If he really wanted it to stop, he would stick up for himself. What're you? His bodyguard?"

Not feeling in the mood to lecture his younger brother about the potential consequences of bullying, Reese threatens, "Does dad need to know about all the times I covered for you while you were out smoking weed?"

"Whatever, I'll leave him alone. You win." Nate walks off.

Reese sighs, trying to get his foster brother out of his mind as he walked to his next class. He'll have to apologize for his brother's actions to Moxwell later.

***

At the start of sixth period, the announcements came on to dismiss everyone to the afternoon assembly.

I quickly grabbed my items, as did everyone else, and followed the teacher to the gymnasium. Lucky for me, Harper was at the end of the line with Rocci, while I was at the front, closer to the AP Biology teacher, Ms. Valerie.

Making my way to the gymnasium, I keep my eyes downcast, not wanting to be noticed and I chose a spot as far away from others as possible, which wasn't much, considering that students were of speaking distance from me. Ms. Valerie wasn't like the other teachers, who made their class sit together—a huge relief to me—since she saw it as pointless, because we'll be dismissed to leave school afterwards anyway.

I don't want anyone to look at me or speak to me. To not be viewed as socially available, I pull out my biology textbook and highlighters from my backpack and begin reading ahead, highlighting essential material, all the while, being surrounded by socializing chaos. How can people live like this? I'd rather by surrounded by silence and if I had my way, I'd be by myself at all times. Throwing me off my focus, a hard smack meets my back, which makes me drop my textbook and highlighter. Uneasiness grips at everything within me.

"Maxwell, buddy, how're you doing this afternoon?" Harper chortles, "I missed you." He wraps his arm around my shoulder.

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