Love, Eliot

Bitch's Brew

My phone burned a hole through my pocket as I hurried to class. There was no time to stop and check my emails; no matter how much I wanted to.

I slipped through the large doors and walked down the auditorium aisle. A seemingly judgmental bunch already took the first four rows of seats by the stage.

They shot annoyed glances over their shoulders while I slipped into the nearest open seat. Then, I turned back to Ms. Wright.

She cleared her throat, deliberately ignoring my arrival. "I trust that everyone here is aware of the commitment this department requires." I pretended she hadn't directed the statement to me. "Everyone has a part to play and I do not tolerate excuses."

I thought about grade school and how we couldn't leave the classroom unless we were dying or bleeding. They rephrased that rule around the time we hit puberty.

She clapped. "Well, let's get this party started. Shall we?"

As if on cue, the doors groaned open and announced another late arrival. She marched down the aisle with her head held high; red and black dyed curls bounced with each assured step. Then, she plopped down next to me.

The Troublemakers.

The chains dangling off her jeans scraped against the plastic when she shifted. Ripped jeans revealed her tan, tattooed thighs.

Ms. Wright screwed her faux smile back into place and walked off to the side of the stage. Meanwhile, the other students whispered, and a few dared to glance back at us.

I fought the urge to give them something to stare at.

The girl elbowed me. "Did I miss anything?"

I shrugged. "No idea, I just got here." We grinned at each other. "I'm Cassie by the way."

"Rosemary." She held out her hand for me to shake. Purple lipstick stretched over her smile and matched the stud in her nose; it glittered underneath the fluorescent lights. "Something tells me you're here on a scholarship."

"Why?"

Her dark brown eyes settled on my face. "You were almost as late as I was and you don't seem nervous."

I leaned back in my chair. "Neither do you."

Rosemary straightened out her neon paint-splattered tie. "You don't dress like I do without getting used to a few extra stares."

I shook my head and smirked while watching my classmates organize themselves. They were busy trying to memorize their lines at the last possible minute, and although I had my monologue printed out in my bag, there was only one thing I wanted to read.

My phone poked against my hip and served as a constant reminder of the unread messages. Before I had the chance to cave and log in, Ms. Wright called my name off of her clipboard. I froze as if caught in the act.

By the time I recovered, the room's focus had shifted to me. I swallowed my nerves and pushed all thoughts of late-night sexting away.

Rosemary gave me a thumbs-up as I made my way to the stage.

"And what monologue have you prepared for us today?" Ms. Wright waited until I reached the top of the stairs to break the steely silence.

I glanced around the room. The theater always seems so much bigger from on top of the stage. "A monologue from August: Osage County."

Ms. Wright scrunched her nose. Clearly, she had seen it. She waved me on anyway.

It wasn't long, but it was enough to drop jaws. Maybe it was the subject, how my character talked about her dad's affair and her mom going full hymen patrol in response.