Unthinkable

February ***Part 1

Penny told me before algebra that the Spring Musical — "Grease" — call-backs list was up. Apparently Ms. Levin decided to follow Raye's lead and have real call-backs.

Normally, auditions would be held after Dramafest. But we made it through to the Dramafest Finals in Harvard, MA. We compete again, in the next round of Fest, just before February vacation.

I trudge down the hall to check the list. I've never prayed so hard NOT to see my name on the list. I'm so over Drama Club right now. Thank god it's the musical and I can't sing a lick.

As I ran my finger down the list, Jake came up behind me. Penny, Tony, Jake, Rucci, Adelaide... yeah, yeah, yeah. All the usual suspects. Melanie, Jen, Juliet...yada, yada, yada, Samantha.

Oh crap.

"Congrats!" Jake exclaims.

For a big guy... he sure is stealthy. "Oh yeah, uh, thanks. You too!"

"You don't sound excited."

"I'm not going to do the show. I need a break. But it's nice to be in the mix. Kinda makes all that Allison bullshit with Fest worth it. Guess it wasn't a fluke?"

"What do you mean you aren't going through with it?

"I need a break. I'm tired of everything. Thinking I might just run Spring Track, get some distance from it all. Who knows, maybe in a couple weeks, I'll sign up for props or something. I just can't be around it all, all of them, right now."

His large hands swallow my shoulders, and he's gazing into my depressed, exasperated eyes. "It's my last production, you need to be in it. I can't... I don't want to do it without you." Way to be dramatic guy.

I defiantly shake my head. NOT gonna happen. This is very sweet, but seriously, I'm done. I have nothing left to give. Also sure, we've been doing plays together since I was in the sixth grade, but it's not like we're best friends. "Sorry, Jake. I just can't."

"Seriously, don't withdraw." A final Hail Mary, "Just do the call-back. Worst case you don't get cast, then you do props. You were gonna do that anyways."

He's still just staring at me. Can he not see how fucking done I am with this? What does it even matter? It's just a play.

"Please, just do the audition. Don't worry about the other bullshit." Easy for him to say. They worship him.

"Yeah, maybe." Or, maybe not. Even if I only get a small part, I still have to deal with Rucci. I can't believe I could be so wrong about someone. I can't even look at him.

"I better see you there." He smiles hopefully, trotting off down the hallway.

***

Dear Jesse —

I didn't withdraw my audition. Penny strikes again. She convinced me that not doing the musical means letting the A-Team win. I hate when she's right.

And, I got cast as Patty Simcox, the only decent non-singing part. Allison wanted that part, real bad.

Although between Claire and Patty, I'm starting to feel a bit typecast.

Surprisingly, I'm getting kinda pumped about the part. But I'm really not pumped about having to spend every afternoon with Rucci. He's Putzie (how appropriate!). He's once again got another prime role for a freshman. His ego is gonna swell so big. Fucking talented motherfucker.

Xo

Sammy (Miss Simcox if you're nasty! Janet Jackson references never get old!)

***

"Pixy Stix for my ex-wife!" Jake presents me with three Giant Pixy Stix. I don't care much for chocolate, but I can't turn down brightly colored pure sugar!

I bite my lip as I smile up at him. "You sure know the way to a girl's heart."

"Mainlining processed sugar," he nods.

"Ding! Ding!" I snatch them out of his hands and begin ripping the red plastic tube open with my teeth, "What are these for?"

"No reason, just saw them at Dairy Mart and they reminded me of you. Enjoy the sugar high."

"Thanks!" Sweet. Random. But sweet.

***

February Vacation: A week off in the dead of New England winter. A time when most of the state heads south for a brief thawing, a picture with Mickey and umbrella drinks.