Falling For Alaska

Chapter Seven: Plays & Trees

"No way. No way in fu*king hell."

There was absolutely no fu*king way I was doing that— I don't care if I almost burned down the whole forest of century old trees. Honestly, who the fu*k actually cared about those dumb trees anyways? Not me, that's for sure. 

Carter smiled-he had expected this reaction. He'd known how much I'd hate it, and that, my friends, was exactly why he proposed that as the punishment. I would much prefer jail— Carter was right about that. "Unfortunately, Chase, you don't have a choice," Carter stated, with a fake 'apologizing' tone.

He was enjoying seeing me sweat.

I had a freaking reputation. And there was no way in hell I would be giving it up just like that. "Well, I'm not doing it. So you can take that idea and stick it up y-"

Before I could finish, he cut me off, with a satisfied smirk, "I don't think you understand that you really don't have a choice, Forrest. You have to do it."

I grimaced, and briefly thought about pummeling the smirk off Carter's face. His face was just so damn aggravating-the way the corner of his fat lip snarled into a satisfied smirk, his furry (and distracting) uni-brow, and well, his saggy face. "Who's the female lead?"

With an almost dreamily look, Carter took a bite out of his sprinkled donut before responding, "Why, Alaska, of course!"

Shoot. It just had to her, huh? But then again, I'm pretty sure she played the lead every year... And that she actually volunteered for it. And liked being in the play. "Alaska Green?" I clarified, hoping that Carter was talking about, perhaps a different Alaska: or really, any Alaska besides that one.

Carter smiled even wider, his chin fat drooping even lower and lower, "Why yes, of course! Aren't you so excited?"

I groaned internally. Just my luck, huh?

First the whole fire accident and now Alaska being the female lead?

God, just shoot me now.

And why the hell would Alaska want to be the lead? For that reason, I was pretty certain she was forced, as well, by Carter. Isn't Carter just the sadistic bastard?

I rolled my eyes, "Fine, whatever, Carter. But if even one person laughs or even makes a joke about the whole thing, I'm pummeling their face."

Carter snorted in disbelief and took yet another bite out of his fattening donut, before throwing me the script of the play. "Whatever you say, Forrest. You're dismissed. Practices start Monday." Gesturing I could now leave, I grabbed the da*n script and rushed out the door (surprisingly without flashing Carter the bird or yelling obscenities towards his direction), with a huge feeling of dread.

This was bad. Really bad.

You see, every year, our township had a play of sorts, put together by the hippies, normally about nature or some aspect of it. It was held on the last Saturday of summer, for all the families and little children to watch and 'enjoy.'

Last year's play was titled 'The Sunshine of My Life," complete with dancing 'suns' and cheerful singing and dancing.