• ＯＮＥ •
AN EXCERPT FROM "DREAMLAND" BY SONIA JAYME, ACT I SCENE 1
❝ LOCKE: I can't believe it's over. She's over.
LILY: (shakes head) She isn't. She's just moved on. ❞
✾ ✾ ✾
THE IDEA COMES on Sunday. Sonia is on her way to Leo's apartment, having decided to walk there instead of taking the subway like she usually does. The weather just called for it, heavy clouds and dripping trees. Usually, such conditions would be off-putting, but Sonia would rather be soaked wet in rain than her own sweat. Another thing that should be off-putting to Sonia is that she has no sense of direction whatsoever, so what could take her half an hour might actually take her two. She predicts she might just give up and hail a cab. End up paying double what she could've if she'd just taken the subway. This doesn't stop her. She hops into another puddle and zips up her jacket.
Turning into a street she's certain she hasn't seen before, she forges on. Her sneakers slap against the sodden pavement, the white canvas turning into a soppy light grey. This is a part of New York City that she doesn't even know existed, where instead of high-rise buildings and trendy boutiques and restaurants, the street is lined with gardens and stone houses, glistening in the drizzle. It's quaint, to say the least. Sonia wishes she could live here. (Leo would also really like it here. That dork is all for the aesthetics — this place sure does have a lot of that to go around.)
Sonia stops short having walked a few blocks now in a direction that is most likely opposite from the right one. As if this little corner of New York couldn't get any more bizarre, what stands in front of her is the cherry on top.
The foggy air disperses a spectrum of lights, ranging from red to violet from behind a bamboo fence. The lights shine through the gaps in the fence, perched on which is a sign that reads "Little Millie's Dreamland" in a squiggly font. Sonia is drawn to the spectacle, and if the hair at the back of her neck wasn't rising because of the cold, it sure is now. The entire thing has an eerie feel to it, something that attracts Sonia but also makes her want to run away.
She looks around before stepping any closer. Beside Little Millie's Dreamland is a house, bricks painted white, the paint peeling, covered in overgrowth. Its windows are completely dark, unlike the lights coming from behind the bamboo fence. No one seems to be in the house, which tugs at Sonia, because Little Millie's Dreamland is in pristine condition from what she can see. Sonia wants to see more, the attraction now overtaking the urge to run away. There's a hole in the fence just high enough for her to hook her foot through and climb up.
So she does.
"Whoa," Sonia breathes once she's got her footing and her eyes are peering just above the fence.
The first thing she thinks is this must be illegal. The second is Little Millie must have a lot of time on her hands because her Dreamland is, put simply, enrapturing. What Sonia sees is what she imagines would happen if Wonderland and Oz had a baby together, orphaned it, and sent it off to be raised in New York. Little Millie's Dreamland covers at least a hundred square feet, freshly mowed grass, bright green and dewey. The lights, Sonia discovers, emanate from little installments that resemble all kinds of creatures. A green caterpillar here, a red ladybug there. A huge fucking butterfly with rainbow wings right at the center. Sonia is dizzy from just taking it in for all but five seconds.
The third thing she thinks is I better get off this fence before I slip and break my back. Once she's back on solid ground, her fourth thought comes.
Why?
Then, the fifth.
That would make a pretty good fucking play.
Her veins suddenly pulsing with adrenaline, Sonia runs back up the street. She hails a cab. (So maybe her sense of direction is still horrible. Her brain is occupied with far more important matters.)
Colors still dance around in her vision when she climbs into the cab.
✾ ✾ ✾
"Took you long enough," Leo mutters, not unkindly. She only glances up at Sonia for a split second before turning back to the colored index cards she's furiously scribbling onto.
"I was busy," Sonia says. After tossing her backpack onto Leo's bed, she crosses over to the desk on the other side of the room, and places her chin in the crook of Leo's neck. (Sonia has to bend down quite a bit.) "What you up to?"
"Studying. Like we planned to, but you stood me up."
Sonia feels her eyes rolling before she realizes they actually are. "I'm here now. And," she grabs an index card, reads it, "I'm pretty sure the phrase 'box of chocolates' doesn't show up in Romeo and Juliet at all."
Leo snatches the index card back and jams it between two text books. Her fingers come in contact with Sonia's — tight, tense. Her jaw is the same.
"What are you actually doing?"
"You can wipe that fucking smirk off your face — "
"You're not even looking at me!"
"I don't have to, dude. I know you that well."
"Mhmm. So. Box of chocolates."
Leo's shoulders go up and down — a sigh — before she spins her creaky chair around to face Sonia. Her dark eyes squarely meet Sonia's, the glint in them reading don't push it but also please do I'm dying to tell you.
"Can I see your other notes?" Sonia asks slowly, like she's talking to a small child. (Which is kind of what Leo is, anyway. Standing at 5'2", one wouldn't think she's capable of getting a ball through a hoop or solving algebraic equations. The amount of pudge her freckled cheeks still hold decrease a few years from her age, too.)
Another sigh. "These aren't notes. I mean they are...but not really? Fuck off, Sonia. Not funny."
Sonia can't help the laughter bubbling up in her stomach, so she unleashes it. Her cackle is wicked witch meets sedated walrus. Even Leo cracks a smile, it sounds so ugly.
"Wait," Sonia says when she's settled down, "then what are they?"
Leo shouldn't have any air left in her lungs if she's sighing so much. "Plans."
"For...?"
"Stuff."
"Stuff."
"Yes."
"What kind of stuff?"
"Has anyone told you you're ridiculously stubborn?"
"Why do you think I'm writing a play to take down the great William Shakespeare?"
"How's that going, by the way?"
"You are so not changing the subject. But it's going well."
"You're letting me change the subject."
"I'm letting you shift subjects, but we're going back to your not-really-notes."
"I'm terrified."
"As you should be," Sonia huffs, kicking of her shoes, settling into Leo's soft bed, tempted to just let the covers swallow her whole. She sniffs and her nose picks up lavender and sweat, a scent Sonia has become familiar with hanging around Leo all the time. It's almost home, the lavender and sweat. She feels warm. (Maybe that's just because she's smothered in Leo's covers.)
(Really, it's because Leo has settled herself next to Sonia, their toes brushing ever so slightly.)
"Just last night you were crying because you still didn't know what to write about," Leo mumbles into the pillow she has in her arms.
"Just last night you were crying because Ella didn't text you back."
"Fuck off."
"Nah, you would miss me too much."
"But, uh, that's kind of what my plans were for."
"Hmm?"
Leo hesitates. Then, "They're for Ella."
Sonia tears her eyes away from the cracks in Leo's ceiling. The way Leo's voice goes all soft, how she wraps everything she has around Ella's name, it tugs at something within Sonia. The last time Sonia had seen Leo like this was...well, never. They've only really been friends for the good part of two years — for the two years prior that they've known each other, acquaintance is the word more appropriate. If Leo had the puppy-dog eyes for someone at that time (her ex-girlfriend, most likely), Sonia wasn't there to see it.
"You're going to try to seduce her?"
"Okay, seduce makes it sound too forward — "
"I thought you said you were staying single after, you know..."
"Charlie?" Leo stares ahead, and at first, it seems like she's staring into space. Sonia follows her line of sight and ends up looking at a huge cardboard box meant for moving. Tears have begun to pool in the corners of Leo's eyes.
Leo is a cloud, plain and simple. Not the wispy kind that resembles threads from spiderwebs, no, Leo is the kind of cloud that's the faintest of greys. White at first glance, but the longer you stare at it, its greyness grows more unmistakable . The heavy kind, where it's just about to gush out with rain. She crackles with thunder, occasionally. When the rain has built up for too long. (Cumulonimbus, is it? Sonia has never really been good at Science.)
"Have I ever showed you what's inside that box?"
Sonia can barely hear her own voice. "No," she says. "You haven't."
"It's full of shit Charlie gave me," Leo chokes out, laughing feebly, once she has the box on the bed between them.
Already Sonia wants to tell Leo to keep it shut, because she knows once the lid comes off, the tears will come out. Crying has always come easy for Leo. That's why her smiles are extra bright. But when has anyone stopped Pandora from surrendering to her curiosity?
"This jar was from our first anniversary. She filled it with little notes and things to cheer me up, you know?"
"I know," Sonia replies. There's nothing else she can say.
"And this card? My birthday. I swear, Charlie had too much time on her hands."
"Yeah."
"Oh and all this is the food she gave me. Chips, chocolate, gummy candy. I don't eat it 'cause, I don't know, it makes it seem dispensable, I—I guess."
"It's food, Leo. You're kind of meant to put it in your mouth and dispense it out your anus."
"And..." Leo's voice shrivels up. She has a timer, much like the one Coach Sandy has around her neck consantly, in her fist. Sonia has to pry her fingers open to return the timer to the box. This, she was here for. The pang in her chest is reflected on Leo's drawn eyebrows. They both remember where it came from, clear as day.
Sonia replaces the lid on the box and sets it on the floor. "These violent delights have violent ends."
Leo laughs, kind of. It sounds more like all the air was squeezed out of her like an accordion. "Was that a Romeo and Juliet quote?"
"Aye."
"God."
"So...box of chocolates?"
"And flowers. Among other things."
"All for Ella? So you're really ditching the single life?"
"The heart wants what it wants."
"Emily Dickinson."
"What a nerd."
"You love it."
"Yeah, sure."
"You do!"
"Keep dreaming!"
"The only one I dream of is you, though."
"Damn, Sonia. I thought I was smooth."
"Yeah, that's why you have all the girls falling at your feet."
"All of them except Ella." And Charlie goes unsaid.
"Just you wait. Don't throw away your shot just yet."
Leo laughs again for God knows what reason, this time sounding less like a deflated bagpipe and more like her regular self. Sonia surreptitiously hands her a stray handkerchief hanging from her bedpost. She pretends to be interested in Leo's stark white walls as the latter wipes her eyes.
✾ ✾ ✾
Miss Campbell couldn't look more amused if she tried. Sonia wonders if the woman before her is a sadist, if she gets off on seeing her students suffer. (It's Monday. Sonia doesn't do too well on the days after the Sabbath. Not that she believes in that sort of thing or whatever.)
"Hear me out," Sonia insists, sounding almost like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum.
"I am." Miss Campbell's lips, painted a dark berry shade, turn up into a wicked grin, ordering Sonia to humor her. Really, it should be the opposite. "Is there a reason why you're in my classroom ten minutes before lunch ends?"
"Have you ever gone to that part of the city, by the Lower East Side — Oak Street?"
"Oak...I don't...think so. Why?"
All Sonia can see is different hues of red and blue and green and purple and yellow. Words tumble out of her mouth of their own accord, incoherent and unstrung. She gets giddy telling Miss Campbell about Little Millie's Dreamland, its unconventional landscape, the glowing animals and the old house beside it, teeming with overgrowth. By the time she's finished, her heart flits about beneath her ribcage, her mouth dry having been drained of all the words it held.
Miss Campbell stares at her, eyebrows just about to reach her hairline. "Sonia, I know the Bard smoked cannabis when writing, but that doesn't mean — "
"What, no! I wasn't high on anything."
"Please, Sonia, even I got high in my day. Okay, wow, that made me sound way older than I am. I'm twenty-six."
"You barely look twenty," Sonia says dryly, almost chuckling at the way Miss Campbell's gaze softens. "I really wasn't high, though."
The teacher leans back in her chair as she shuts the lesson plan on her desk. "Okay, assuming this 'Dreamland' is real — "
"It is real!"
" — why did you tell me about it?"
"Because! It would be such a good play!" Sonia says, parroting her thoughts from the previous day.
"And what is it, exactly?"
"I — "
Miss Campbell sighs. "Look, Sonia, your enthusiasm is encouraging, but what do you have? A vague concept, at best. I assume you're going to be setting your play — if you're writing it — in this 'Dreamland' but then what? What's the story? Who're your characters? What's the plot, the conflict, the conclusion? You have a setting, yeah, but you need to flesh everything else out if you want it to get anywhere."
"I know that." Red begins to creep out of Sonia's vision and into her cheeks. Shame isn't a sensation she experiences with the likes of English teachers (they love her usually), but there's a first time for everything.
"It's a good concept, still. I'm kind of surprised you didn't come up with this yourself."
Miss Campbell is either implying or Sonia is reaching, but this is her way of saying that Sonia is capable of coming up with something like this. Such is enough to feed her ego.
"Thanks."
"Tell me when you've sorted it out, yeah? I'm interested to see where you might take this."
"Sure thing."
"That still doesn't mean you have a chance of replacing Romeo and Juliet. I'd give you extra credit, maybe."
"Don't shoot me down just yet."
"I'm just telling you not to get your hopes up, Sonia. I'd hate to see you disappointed."
"Then use my play! Trash Shakespeare!"
"The play you haven't even written yet?"
"I'll get it written."
"And it's Shakespeare, Sonia — not exactly the most replaceable thing."
"It can be replaced if what you're replacing it with is good."
"How about we have something to replace it with first, hm? Then we can talk."
Just as she opens her mouth to reply to her teacher, Sonia jumps, having been startled by the shrill ringing of the school bell signaling the end of lunch. Soon, students start filing into the classroom, filling the room with mindless chattering and the stench of meatloaf. Fingers hook around her arm, warm and calloused. Leo pulls her away from Miss Campbell's desk to the corner of the classroom where the chatter and meatloaf stench aren't as invasive.
"Missed you at lunch today," Leo tells her pointedly.
"I didn't want to intrude on your grandiose plan to seduce Ella." Sonia pokes Leo in the side. "How'd that go, by the way?"
"I didn't, uh, do it yet."
"Dost mine ears deceive me? Leo Perez chickening out?"
"Was that another Romeo and Juliet quote?"
"Pretty sure it was Aladdin, you uncultured swine...but what happened? Why'd you bail?"
"I got scared, okay."
"You've gone soft."
"I was always soft."
"True."
Leo gives her arm a hearty punch. "So why did I have to sit at a table and watch people eat without you?"
Sonia has always starved herself during lunch (save Fridays, because fried chicken isn't something she'd ever pass up on) for the sake of her wallet. Leo does the same — she doesn't even have a wallet. Lunches are then spent with Sonia at Leo's side, staring at the food around them while Leo talks with her friends (she actually has friends). Sonia's mouth waters at the food. Leo's mouth waters at Ella Adams who is approximately four tables away. It's a good system.
"I needed to talk to Miss Campbell," Sonia says.
"Is this about that play again? Dude, I'm telling you — "
"Okay everyone, may we all take our seats?"
"Tell me later." Sonia smiles briefly, something only Leo gets to see. She's the first to her seat so she sees Leo practically collapse into hers.
A brownie, saran-wrapped, gets kicked from under Leo's chair to Sonia's feet. "You're welcome," comes the whisper.
"Savior."
By the time everyone's settled into their own seats and quieted down, Sonia has managed to stuff the entire brownie into her throat to appease her empty stomach.
"Now if you'll bring out your pens...Yuma, if you could pass the quiz around, thanks."
"Quiz?" Dread creeps up Sonia's throat and collides with the dense, half-chewed brownie.
"I do hope you all studied the entirety of Romeo and Juliet, cover to cover," says Miss Campbell, ever the sadist. "I made the quiz a bit harder this time around, since I did announce it last Tuesday."
"By any chance," Sonia whispers to Leo, who already has two pens and a tube of correction fluid out (and she calls Sonia the nerd), "did you study for the test?"
"I think you know the answer to that. You?"
The answer: of course she studied — she's the responsible half of the duo.
"I think you know the answer to that."
The answer: she didn't even touch the book. Typical.
"God," Sonia whispers when the quiz meets her desk, all one hundred items staring blankly at her while simultaneously taunting her. The blanks outweigh the actual words on the paper. She feels the urge to stab herself. Perhaps down a vial of poison. "Fuck. Me."
Leo snickers from in front of her. Sonia kicks her chair. That shuts her up.
✾ ✾ ✾
Ella Adams is a vision. Her beauty isn't the sort that would immediately strike you or take the breath from your throat — you have to stare at her awhile, take in the full cheeks and the hazel eyes and the silky butterscotch hair. Then she would strike you as beautiful. Still, she stands shorter than Leo, who's already just a measly 5'2". That kind makes her cross the line from beautiful to cute.
Just Leo's type.
"Maybe you should pick your jaw up and say hi to her," Sonia tells Leo, chucking all of her books into her locker. Her bag is a void now. There's no use in bringing her books home, anyway — it's not like she goes near them.
"Was I staring again?" Leo mutters.
"You still are, bro."
"Fuck off."
By some force of nature, Ella chooses now to wave at Leo. Her braces catch light as she practically glows. She smiles wider when Leo waves back, but the latter is left waving back even when the former has been long gone.
Sonia, having just finished emptying her bag into her locker, takes Leo's chin in her palm and forces Leo's eyes to meet hers. She grins. "So, why'd you chicken out awhile ago?"
"All her friends were there," Leo replies. "I could feel the judgment in their stares."
"Please, you were just imagining that."
"Oh, no. They actually hate me. I do have a reputation."
"Well, that's bullshit."
If Ella is a vision, Yuma Hamasaki is small. Though closer to Leo's height than Ella's, she is quiet a lot of the time, takes up generally little space, keeps to herself. Be that as it may, she can certainly be loud if she wants to. And now, she definitely wants to. (Hence, the "bullshit" line.)
"Hi, Yuma."
"Hi, Sonia. Hope you don't mind me third-wheeling."
Leo's eyes widen slightly, though it's hard to tell through her rectangular glasses. "Wait, what?"
"Nothing," Yuma hums.
Sonia chuckles. "We don't mind. I was about to show Leo someplace cool."
"I thought we were going to Deja Brew!"
"After."
Yuma's got this strange look on her face, like she's on some kind of high. The smile on her face blooms slow and lazy, reminding Sonia of the way a butterfly first unfurls its wings. "You guys are like, married."
Leo, meanwhile, resembles a fish flopping about on the deck of a dinghy. "We aren't — "
"Kidding!" Yuma winks at Sonia, which just about sets off another peal of laughter because Leo looks ridiculous.
"Are you two set to go?" Sonia asks, tactfully changing the topic to spare her best friend from any more trauma. Poor thing probably still has Ella's apple-cheeks on her mind.
Yuma nods. "Yeah, told the others I wasn't gonna tag along. Henry was kind of angry when he heard I was hanging out with you."
The others, as Yuma refers to them, are the close group of friends she has that she's known since seventh grade because apparently, everyone but Sonia has more than a handful of friends. (Leo is friends with everybody. Sonia pretends to be friends with everybody.) And Henry, well, Henry is a topic she'd rather just avoid altogether.
At the mention of Henry, Leo's confused puppy dog face suddenly turns devilish, sensing the opportunity to tease Sonia. "Henry, huh?"
Yuma snorts.
"Shut the fuck up." Sonia rolls her eyes. "Let's go before I stuff you in these damn lockers."
They do go, then, and Sonia's urge to stuff anyone in anything soon disappears once they step out of the school. The air is crisp, pulling at rust-colored leaves from branches and guiding them to the pavement. Her head clears...until Leo's voice fills it back up through her right ear.
"Where exactly are we going?"
"Oak Street."
"Why?" Yuma's voice trickles in through the other ear.
"I want to show you something."
"What?"
"Just...wait," Sonia stops in her tracks, struggling to remember where to go. "Actually, it's kinda far from here. Anyone have money for a cab?"
"Bro, you're literally the richest person in our class — "
"No, Leo, my dad is rich. I'm as broke as you are!"
"Literally married."
"Shut up, Yuma."
"Are you telling me to shut up when I have five Hamiltons in my pocket?"
"I love you, Yuma."
"Yeah, yeah, hail a cab."
Of course it's Leo who manages to, because the talented at everything gimmick seems to stretch even into the area of public transport. The ride there is mostly quiet, save for Leo's occasional complaints about her empty stomach and Yuma's compendious explanation as to why she chose to hang out with Sonia and Leo today. (Basically, "the others" are a stressful bunch. Somehow, that translates into Sonia being Yuma's Best Friend #2 and vice-versa.)
"This is it?" Leo asks flatly when they get off the cab and are standing by the same intersection Sonia turned into two days prior.
Sonia huffs. "No need to sound so excited."
"It's...cute," Yuma says.
Sonia rolls her eyes and leads them down the street. Somehow it feels more eerie with the sound of two more pairs of sneakers squelching on top of the pounding of her boots on the asphalt. Stopping in front of the familiar bamboo fence, the vacuous chatter behind her fades away.
She crosses her arms, facing her friends. "Still cute?"
Leo's eyebrows are drawn together. "Little Millie's Dreamland?"
"What the fuck is this?" Yuma asks.
"That's exactly it! I don't know what it is. But I came across it the other day and I don't know...I just felt a burst of inspiration."
"Writer Sonia strikes again!"
While Yuma makes a show of typing on an imaginary keyboard, Leo has taken the liberty of finding that hole that Sonia hooked her foot through, doing the same, and looking over the fence. It's a bit harder for her, but she manages.
"So, is Little Millie dead or something?" Leo grunts, hopping off the fence.
Sonia frowns. "I don't — what?"
"I mean, that's kinda what it looks like. Perfectly kept garden, old house, little lanterns..."
"Shit, you're right," Yuma agrees. "Totally screams 'dead kid' to me."
"What if she died of some terminal illness or something? Like this Dreamland was her dying wish or whatever?"
"That explains why the house beside it looks like if hasn't been lived in for years! They're probably mourning. Or dead, too."
Sonia feels as if she is witnessing a game of tennis, her head whipping back and forth as Yuma and Leo throw words at each other. "You know, there's one way to find out if you're right."
"What?" Leo asks.
Yuma gasps, nostrils flaring. "Knock."
"Exactly."
"Well, I'm not knocking."
"Same."
The two turn to look at Leo.
She points to herself. "Me?"
"You're the extrovert."
"I can't even open my front door without having a panic attack."
"Yeah, but I'm not writing the damn play."
"But you're my best friend. And I'm going to buy you a cinnamon roll from Deja Brew."
Leo sighs, mutters something along the lines of there's no winning with this girl, and complies. She's the first on the old house's doorstep, with Sonia and Yuma on her heels. Discovering that the house has no doorbell, Leo knocks.
The door swings open.
"This is literally a horror movie," Yuma whispers.
"Hello?" Leo calls into the house. "Anyone home?"
There's four seconds of silence before Sonia says, "Anybody?"
"This place is abandoned," Yuma informs them. "I can barely see through this damn window."
"Can we go in?"
"That's trespassing, bro."
"It's research, bro."
"Won't your dad kill us?"
"Shut up before I kinkshame you."
It's eerily quiet when they do shut up. The creaking of the floorboards echoes throughout the small house. Everything from the faded couch to the boxy television is old, but nothing is out of place. Sonia instinctively grabs for Leo's arm when her eyes land on a row of picture frames nailed to a wall.
The pictures have faded, colors bleeding into each other and being muted. The frames themselves are dusty, the glass having a brownish tinge. On the pictures are a child, a little boy with two front teeth missing. Even if the pictures have faded, his dark skin is still manifest. In some photos, there are two adults — a willowy man with the same dark skin as the child, and a woman with hair the color of sand. They all have huge grins, until the last photo in the lineup. The child's head is covered in ringlets tied back with two huge bows — and it is the same child, Sonia is sure. The ringlets seem to be uneven, like one side has been yanked over the child's eyes. The child is in a wheelchair. Both adults' smiles have gone wobbly. On the child's lap is a cake that has the words "Happy 8th Birthday, Millie! Love, Mom and Dad."
"So they had two kids?" Leo says, the end of the sentence going up so it sounds more like a question. "Millie and this other one?"
"I don't think so," Sonia muses. "They look the same. I mean, you could say twins but it would be weird to have separate photos of them. And this is the only one with Millie. The others have a boy in them. Unless..."
"What are you saying?" Yuma suddenly appears beside them and inspects the photo. "That the boy wasn't even a boy in the first place?"
"That seems to be the most logical conclusion." Sonia nods.
"I'm confused," Leo interjects.
"You'll get it."
"Sonia, why are you smiling?"
"Because, Yuma, I have a plot now."
"Now I'm confused."
Sonia throws her arms around each of her friends' shoulders and pulls them to her. "How about we forget we ever trespassed and get some cinnamon rolls, hm?"
✾ ✾ ✾
"You trespassed?" Miss Campbell looks like she's about to pull her braids out. "Sonia, I know I told you to figure out a plot — "
"That's what I did!"
" — but I didn't mean you had to trespass on private property!"
"Oh."
Miss Campbell tuts. "What you saw there was interesting, but I don't know if legally — "
"First of all, that house is abandoned. Second, I'm literally writing this for a high school," Sonia interjects. "That won't matter. Plus movies do that 'any resemblance to anything ever is purely coincidental' thing all the time."
"Okay, but — "
The bell rings out of nowhere, startling Sonia once more. Fingers wrap around her arm again and the entire scenario reminds her of what just happened yesterday. She's only slightly groggier, since English is the first period of today, so it doesn't immediately register in her mind that Leo is pulling her to her seat.
"I thought we agreed to meet by my locker this morning." Leo turns around in her seat to pin Sonia with an appraising look.
"Shit, I forgot," Sonia mutters, immediately guilty. "Sorry."
"It's fine. I got to walk Ella to Physics!"
"I can hear the wedding bells."
"Shut up. Anyway. Did you convince Miss Campbell yet?"
"She liked the idea. I'm just not sure — "
"Okay, people!" Miss Campbell rises from her desk. "Before I call roll, I want to make an announcement. As you all know, Romeo and Juliet will be our winter play."
Leo raises her eyebrows at Sonia; she just shrugs.
"For those interested, I'm informing you that auditions will be tomorrow during free period."
Shit, Sonia thinks as the class erupts in excited whispers.
"I'll post the sign-up sheet by the guidance office. Feel free to audition! The Bard would appreciate you all getting involved in his play. This is a real thing, people. After these auditions," Miss Campbell stops pacing when she's behind Sonia's seat and has a hand on her shoulder, "there's no turning back."
[a/n] DANG DANG DIGGITY DANG DANG i've been watching musicals nonstop for the past few days so if the narration switches up in style thats bc i was heavily influenced by the musical i was watching at the time so sorry, folks
also i love yuma she's my lil baby
THIS IS 5K WORDS WHICH NEVER HAPPENS so pls vote n comment n validate me thank u all til next time !