How to Be a Virgin

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CHAPTER 15

[ Noah ]

Greg Granger hated me; that I was absolutely sure of. Between the side glares, mocking laughs, and jeering grins, I knew the brown-haired boy saw me as something less than inferior, something as insignificant as gum on the sidewalk, something that didn't need to be in his presence let alone talking to him. Currently, I was doing both because we were situated in the small confines of the practice room located on the far side of the school near the drama and music rooms.

"You don't know your lines," Greg noted, completely interrupting me in the process and not having any remorse.

I laughed a little to ease the tension. "Well, yeah, because we just got the script yesterday."

"So?" Greg questioned as though my answer wasn't sufficient enough. "You don't know your lines, you don't speak with conviction, you're a horrible actor, an even worse singer, and you're obviously not cut out for this play. Why Mr. CJ chose you to be such an important role is beyond me. You're going to embarrass me and everyone else!"

Letting my gaze fall to the heavy packet in my hands, I slumped forward in my seat. "I'll get it, I promise, I just need practice."

He looked at me warily before sighing and slipping into the role of the Beast. "Why did you come here?" he asked angrily, his voice resonating with power and volume. It was hard to tell if he was pretending to be angry at me or if he actually was—probably the latter.

I backed away from him until my back hit the wall, eyes wide. "I-I'm sorry," I stammered in a faint, high-pitched voice. It took a little more effort to speak that way and I came off sounding like a terrified mouse.

"I warned you..." He took a step closer to me, eyes narrowing into slits, "...never to come here!"

I glanced down briefly at the script. "Um, I didn't mean any harm..."

"Do you realize what you could've done?" he questioned further and without giving me a chance to respond, he spun around to kick the chair behind him to the ground. Instead of continuing with the scene, my jaw dropped open at his unbelievable anger.

I looked down at the script again to see any cues as to why he would've done that, but there were no stage directions, just lines. "Why'd you do that?" I asked in my normal voice. "That's not in here."

"It's not about what's in the script. It's about what's in between the lines," Greg said in a bored monotone voice. "You know what? I can't do this. You're such a joke." I watched as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair and started to pace around the room, muttering words to himself. His words were mostly incoherent, but I did catch when he called me a "no-good faggot."

Slowly setting my script onto the chair, I straightened my posture and cleared my throat, indicating that I had something to say. "I know you don't like me, okay? But Mr. CJ said that you have to put your personal feelings aside and work with me. I know I'm not the greatest actor to ever exist, but you are, so I need you to help me. I really wanna do a good job at this."

Greg stopped pacing to look over his shoulder, grey eyes wide in incredulity. He stared at me like that for a dull moment before he heaved a sigh and relaxed his muscles. "All right, well, if you're gonna pass as a girl, you have to speak higher."