[2] Permanent Positions

(Malory)

“So she really did it,” Katy states. “She really signed up for it.”

It’s around half eight at night and I’m just about done wiping a dining room table. Katy sits, watching me.

“Yea,” I say. “She had to, anyway, being a senior drama student with all this mandatory school crap. Olivia is a great actress; I don’t see why she wouldn’t be able to get the part. It should be especially easy for her to take it off my hands. I hope the teachers and Mrs Bev let her have it. I’m keeping my hopes up right now. Hope is all I’ve got anymore.”

Katy doesn’t go to school with us. I met her when I got the part time job here at Nadine’s. It was just a coincidence that she was my age. Nadine really believes in hiring young, ambitious people though, so they can get work experience before leaving school. That’s always a nice thing to do, I think.

“But would it really be so bad if you got it?” She asks, cringing.

I blink at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?” I exasperate. “We’re talking about Kyle Davidson. In Grade 7, he ruined my April Fest dress. I had saved up all my allowance money to get materials for it. I made that dress myself and I was so proud of it. He tripped me and it ripped while I fell over a giant bowl of punch. In front of everyone! -Including my shy date. Then, he threw a slushie over me in the hallway days after the dance, just for the heck of it.

“Then there was another time when Kyle had spread this awful rumor about me being pregnant. It circulated the whole school. “Top Student Malory Lloyd is pregnant”. Teachers were pulling me aside in the hallways asking me if I needed counselling for my ‘problem’ or if they could be of assistance. What a load of bullshit.

“And there was this time when we were two of the few students who were handpicked from the school to attend this cool university seminar about two years ago. Do you know what that crazy idiot did? He put fake blood on my seat right before I sat down. I was walking around with a big, red stain on my ass –unaware of the reason why everyone was staring at me until a teacher pointed it out just as we were getting back onto the bus to go back to school.

“He’s made me look like a complete fool in front of total strangers for as long as I’ve known him. And it’s obvious that he did most of it on purpose. He’s a sadistic turd. I hate him. Imagine all the stuff he’s done in between just to aggravate me. Things between us have escalated so much since the beginning that the sight of him alone makes my stomach turn. I wish he’d just transferred to some other school across the country or just flown right out of Canada for good. I don’t know why we have to share the same space. He might be a top student but his lack of common sense and courtesy should have been enough to kick him out of Audrey Burkes High a long time ago. Gifted, my foot. He’s gifted in being a pain in the ass! Ugh! If I think about it anymore I’ll just go mad.”

“So if Olivia does get the part...what happens then?”

“If Olivia gets the part, I’ll rejoice. If she doesn’t, I’ll find some other way to get out of it. And I’m sure Davidson’s got some plan hidden up his sleeve. He’s a disgusting pest with a cocky attitude but he’s not stupid stupid. He’ll figure something out. Just like Olivia is trying to help me, I’m sure one of his friends would do something to help him. His best friend Ron might pitch in.

“Ron’s this guy in my theatre class and he’s Kyle’s friend. In fact he’s probably more a leech to Kyle than a friend. He’s the only person who follows that clown. I don’t know why he does it. He deserves better friends. Anyway, for all I know, he might be the one to take Kyle’s part if Olivia gets the lead.” I think about it. “Hmm... Olivia and Ron as the leading co-stars... Well, they won’t fight. And Olivia would have told me if she had something against Ron, so I think it would turn out well.”

“Keep hoping I guess,” she says, tiredly. “In any case you’ll come running to me on Monday evening when your shift starts and I won’t hear the end of what’ll happen that day.” She sighs before continuing. “I might have to bring ear buds to block out your rambling after you finish getting to the main point. You have a habit of verbally repeating your agonies until you’re exhausted and need a drink.”

Looking down at the clean table, I let out a relieved breathy sound. “All done! Ugh, I can go home and finish that book I’ve been dying to finish for days now. I’m so busy during the week with so much.”

“I know. Everyone knows, Malory Lloyd. You do way too much. And then you don’t sleep at night. It’s getting a little worrisome, Mal.” Katy pities me. I scoff and roll my eyes at her in denial. She starts counting activities I’m involved in on her fingers. “The book club –plus, you read like everyday- ...the art club, the animal rights club, music class, you go to the gym, you’re working here every evening except Sundays, what else am I missing? Geography club; you’re in that, too. I honestly don’t know how you even manage it all. Don’t bother telling me. I’ll be entirely convinced you’re an alien.”

I frown, dropping my tired butt into the seat beside her. “I have to keep myself busy, Katy. If I stop, I’ll lose that drive I have and fall into a rut. I’ll become unproductive and take myself ten steps backward when all I want to do is move forward. I might even become depressed again. I don’t ever want to feel as low as I did back then. I need to keep moving. It’s the only way I’ll move at all. And anyway, it’s my last year of high school. If there’s any time to get busy and be productive, it’s now. After all, I might just head off to university when it’s all over.”

“That’s the plan?”

I scoff. “Honestly, Kitty, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m just keeping myself busy and being hopeful that time will reveal all.”

Katy’s concerned sapphire eyes soften as she raises her hand to check the time from the watch on her wrist. “You should head home. Take a nice long bath, jump into a pair of cozy jammies, finish that book of yours and most importantly; get some sleep.”

***

(Kyle)

It’s late. I can hear my joints cracking as I stretch and shut my laptop. “Finally,” I say, “It’s done.”

Ron is sitting on his bed with a literature book. “I knew there was a good reason I didn’t choose the science class,” he says. “My geeky, book-nerd brain could never grasp any of it.”

I laugh. “You got away from sciences, alright. But you’re in Lloyd’s class. Talk about the price you’ve paid. I’m ready for this insane nightmare to be over. Can we fast forward to tomorrow just to see what happens and come back to now and celebrate? I’ll sponsor the food; you get the drinks and the junk.”

“I didn’t sign up to help you, bro,” Ron reinforces. “That’s your problem to deal with. Malory isn’t the only one to blame for this predicament. Regardless of that situation, it’s mandatory for me to participate. The senior year drama students have to pitch in one way or another. I’m really curious about what play they’ve decided on for the production. And I wonder if I’ll be onstage or backstage. Maybe I’ll be a stagehand since there aren’t that many guys to help with heavy lifting. Who knows, anyway?”

“Roomie. What the hell is a stagehand? It’s like you’re speaking Greek to me.”

Ron rolls his eyes and drops to lie on the floor, tired and annoyed. “You know... I really am questioning why the hell the principal thought it was a good idea to make you the leading star –or or any star at all. Lloyd is a good actress and she’s actually in the drama class whereas you... you just don’t know shit.”

“You’re only contemplating over this now? I have been complaining about this all week. I’m shit at acting. I chose not to do drama for just that reason. But at least I know I can trust myself to do horribly at the auditions and the rehearsals. Hopefully the teachers will start panicking enough to give someone else the part the further along we get because they’ll obviously want the production to go well and I’m obviously not going to be the right fit to allow that to happen. I mean if they have any shred of common sense they’ll take precautionary measures and just forget about giving me the role to save the show. If they don’t, I’m convinced the production will turn out to be thoroughly chaotic. Especially if it’s involves both me and Lloyd. We all know how that goes.”

He sits up in realisation. “I’ve actually never seen you act. How do you know you’re bad at it? And about doing horribly at rehearsals... isn’t the point of this to rid yourself of a bad record? Don’t you want to do that? You should at least try, Kyle. Malory doesn’t seem too keen on the idea of acting beside you, but she hasn’t punched you into the floor yet. I’d say that’s a start.”

“Why are you siding with her?” I ask, defensively. “I was the one who agreed to do it first –and that squeaky clean record is the only reason why.”

“Then make the effort. You do want to do this for a good reason.”

I roll my eyes and scratch my head in irritation. “What if I fake an injury or something?”

“The show will go on. If they’re smart, the leaders will have an understudy for your character –if you do become a lead or have some other supporting role- waiting to jump in if you cannot make yourself available at some point or another. And I think that if you do that, you’ll be removed from your other groups anyway just like Beverly said she’d do. Do you want to risk not being on the swimming team or in the mechanics club or the tech club? Or whatever else you jump into from time to time? I don’t think there’s any way Bev is going to let you –or Malory- off the hook this time. I mean Malory did accidentally punch an innocent student trying to damage you. I heard the student’s parents were threatening to sue. I don’t even know who that kid was.”

“Damn... so that’s why Bev took such drastic measures,” I mumble. “This blows, man. I can’t risk getting removed from my groups. And I need that blank slate. I really do. Feels like there really isn’t a way out of this. Even if I’m stuck having to do this production, the point of it is to cooperate with Lloyd. Bev didn’t say we were going to be the leads for sure, but she did mention it. I don’t know if that’s the final decision or what. Even if we don’t get the leads we’re going to have to try to cooperate. Can you imagine that brat trying to cooperate with me? There’s no way that’s happening.” I pause. “I guess I should hold on to what I do have right now, though –which are my grades. I’ll still be smart. Won’t I? I’d still have my qualifications.” I slouch as I lean back into the chair. “I’d have something saying that at one point in my life I was good at something. That’s what awards are for, aren’t they? They remind you that, once, you were good at something. You were good enough.”

“Save the drama for the stage,” Ron says.

I turn to him in mock hurt. “Have you even met yourself?” I wheeze a laugh before my smile fades again. “In all seriousness, though, if that skeleton-head with a septum piercing does get the part, and I’m forced to comply, you know I’m not one to make excuses or give up without trying. I’ll take it seriously. It’s not that I won’t. I just don’t want to.”

I check the time again. My level of anxiety skyrockets. “I’ve gotta go.” I shove my belongings into my bag and head for the door.

“Hey don’t forget that in two months I’m gonna have my new ride!” Ron boasts. “You won’t have to worry about bumping into a serial killer on the way home at night anymore!” I hear him yell as I disappear down the staircase. I laugh.

Sure.

***

(Malory)

It’s lunchtime and I am starving. The bell rings and Olivia flies into my classroom on her heels, pulling me out before I could grab my lunch. “Are you Monday’s shot of caffeine? Slow down! Olivia, this is ridiculous!” I knew I should have slept in. I should have slept in and made excuses not to come to school today at all.

She drags me all the way from the senior block to the auditorium. The room is becoming filled with students who are interested in auditioning for April Fest. I spot Mrs Beverly at the front as she leans against the podium, waiting for everyone to settle in.

“Okay. We’re here. Let’s leave before someone sees me.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Olivia says.

I accidentally lock eyes with Mrs Beverly and she goes to the microphone, calling me out in front of everyone and beckoning me to join her at the front.

Is it too late to get plastic surgery and change my name?

Is it too late to become a hermit crab and live in a shell on the beach for the rest of my life?

The microphone gives some feedback and I wince as I walk to the front. I paste on a plastic smile and greet her. “Hi... Mrs Bev.”

She puts a hand on my shoulder and stares at me. I try not to stare back as she speaks. “I’m glad you showed up. Good job. Where’s that Davidson? Is he planning to show up?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “I hope not.”

“Now, now, Malory,” Mrs Bev says in a spirited voice, obviously hearing me. “That doesn’t sound like the spirit of someone making an effort to cooperate.”

I’d rather have my fist cooperate with his face.

Davidson strolls into the room from the left wing of the stage with his hands shoved into his black pants pockets and his hair draped messily over his face –as always.

Cue the not-so-internal eye roll.

Ron is, as always, following behind him as his shadow.

“Am I late?” Kyle asks, unbothered, standing beside Mrs Beverly.

Thankfully, the delusional maniac manages to bother Mrs Bev with his presence enough that she takes her hand off my shoulder and turns to him with a surprised and satisfied smile. “Not at all,” she says.

“What a shame,” he states, briefly glancing at me before turning to face the crowd.

This dimwit. He wouldn’t dare miss this or be late –he was never the type to deliberately do something that would affect his academics –or, in this case, his non-academics. I wasn’t the type to, either. We didn’t get to the top of our classes by slacking off. As individuals, I’m certain we’re both disciplined. The real chaos lies at any point where Davidson and I cross paths. I wish I could avoid him.

If one of us decided to bail on this, who knows what Bev would’ve done? In the very least, I knew that both Kyle and I weren’t the type of people to risk facing the consequence. Though, I would never call this cooperation. Not even silently. I’m just doing this to save my own skin.

“I’m glad you both showed up,” Mrs Bev then states. “You’re off to a good start. If one or the other of you isn’t cooperating, you both go down. Remember our deal.”

We both go down? Harsh. Now I’m going to have to beat Kyle’s ass if he ever decides to ditch rehearsals. Damn it.

Mrs Bev calls the room to order and everyone takes a seat. Kyle, Ron, Olivia and I all sit in the front row, beside each other. Bev begins by thanking all students who signed up to audition. She then introduces the teachers of the drama department –Mr Richards, Mrs Cole and Miss Jenkins- who will be in charge of judging the acts and organizing the production.

She goes over the basics of April Fest –especially for all the new students who have never been to it or been involved in it before.

April Fest is an annual event at Audrey Burkes High. As if the student body isn’t already concentrated in well-off families that fund the school, the April Fest significantly strengthens the school’s financial stability. It keeps this place polished. The event is made up of a combination of talented acts that take place in a concert setting. This is then followed by a play. The play is usually the climax of the evening. Our April Fest is generally held in the first week of April. It’s a three-day event. The solo acts change every night, and the play becomes more refined, too. I’ve always loved being a part of the team that puts on April Fest. Even though as a drama student it was often a lot of practical work and studies, it was more fun and experience than anything else. It brought me so many memories during my time here at the school. I’ll definitely miss all of it when I leave.

“Usually, we hold general auditions to see what talent we can choose from for the event,” Mrs Bev says. “Auditions are open to all students who are hoping to participate as solo acts at the festival or as member of the cast for the play. After the auditions, the best acts are chosen and notified and they may begin rehearsing for their performances. Occasionally they must present an update on their progress to the drama teachers, and the actors who are called back for the play are grouped together for a meeting in which roles are assigned. From then on, rehearsals for the play begin. This year, however,” she says, “there will be a bit of a change in formalities.” She laughs, looking into our direction.

If I didn’t express my embarrassment before, my face was now blood red with shame.

“Please do not be alarmed,” Bev says, “if some of the people you see crossing the stage this year surprise you.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Did she really have to say it like that?” Kyle complains to Ron. “Now I feel like everyone’s eyes are on me.”

“I guess she confirmed it then,” Olivia says. “Neither of you are getting out of this.”

Mrs Bev announces the commencement of auditions.

Kyle turns to Ron. “Hey. Roomie.”

Ron replies with a depressed hum.

“Do we have to audition?”

As the unbeatable three-time winner of the Male Student Exemplar Award, Kyle’s level of stupidity is unfathomable. I don’t care that he has zero knowledge on the concepts of theatre. He just asks the dumbest questions.

“Auditions are part of the formalities. You and Malory may not necessarily have to, though, or at least it won’t matter whether you do or not, seeing as Bev has obviously already made up her mind. Whether your audition is good or bad she’s going to make you a lead anyway, so I don’t think they’ll find an audition necessary. They may decide to have you audition to get a feel of your level of skill and know what they’re working with, and that’s about it as far as yours would go. Olivia and I will have to audition just like everyone else –that is if we’re going to be onstage at all. I doubt they’d make us audition if we’re just working backstage. Whatever happens, they’re not gonna let anyone else off the hook. You guys can probably check the list of people who signed up. If your name isn’t there, you don’t have to audition.”

“I didn’t sign up,” he says.

“His name isn’t there,” I butt in. “I checked it when they posted a copy of the official list on the notice board during break, this morning.”

Ron nods, turning from me to Kyle. “Well, you don’t have to wait around watching the auditions, either. I’m gonna stay to watch a few, though. Auditions are entertaining for one of two reasons. One, the person is extremely talented. Or two, the person isn’t talented at all. It’s funny.”

Ron’s a cool guy. We both study most of the same subjects -hence the reason he’s in my class- and he’s always been a great partner to team up with when groups are mandatory.

I internally snort as I think about what he’s said about untalented people. “Hey, Ron. Remember that time we went to the Drama Fest and there was a girl who completely froze on stage for the play? She just stood there for a solid three minutes...” I want to laugh but I shouldn’t.

“I felt really sorry for her. She looked as young as twelve,” he comments.

“And that guy dressed in literally nothing but a loincloth, rubbed from head to toe in oil,” I allow myself to laugh. “Could you imagine being that drenched in oil? God, the things people do for the performing arts.”

He almost gags before bursting out into laughter. “Oh, I remember, alright. The image still haunts me.”

A classic Kyle, on his bipolar overly-attached-girlfriend pills, rolls his eyes and turns to me. “Hey, Captain Charisma, I don’t talk to Olivia and I’m in the same class as her. If you hate me so much and you’re trying to avoid me at all costs, stop your loud mouth from yapping in Ron’s direction.”

My smile fades and I turn from Ron to him with a sombre expression. “Hey, Petty Pete, Ron isn’t you. I can have a civilised conversation with him.”

“You’re such a spiteful, aggressive, stubborn, self-pleasing animal, Lloyd.”

Hah! I’m wounded.

“You’re one to talk, you big bully,” I spit.

“Bully? Is that what you’re calling this, now? Bullying? You practically welcome every nightmare that comes your way by flinging the door of opportunity wide open!”

Kyle is somehow capable of annoying and provoking the hell out of me by just existing. I don’t believe there was ever a time when Kyle has backed out of a fight with me, but the truth is that usually my words are like cannonballs while his are nerf gun bullets. They really don’t do that much damage -not the way his uncivil pranks do. He just doesn’t have the verbal skills like I do.

There are, however, a selective few times I can remember when his comments left me at a loss for words. That was when I realised it. There was more to him than what I thought I knew. There is more to him than everything I think I know. Not that I’d ever let him know I was once intrigued by the supposed middle-meanings of certain things he’s said... or that I wanted to know more. I’d never let Kyle Davidson think I was ever that interested in his words... or lack of words... or choice of words... whatever the case might be. I have to protect my pride... so no. No way. Never. Even if I have questions, I’ll never ask them. I’ll never try to figure it out. He’s nothing more to me than someone I’m being forced to work with. He’s just the thorn in my side.

Kyle and I go off on a tangent at this point, and while we’re yelling insults and threats at each other, Ron and Olivia branch off into their own conversation between us.

“Captain Charisma?”

“Petty Pete?”

“They’ll never stop, will they?”

“Just let them burn themselves out,” Ron says, “It’ll happen eventually.”

***

Mrs Cole leads the callback meeting. I stand at one end of the room, beside Olivia, and Kyle and Ron stand on the other, in a dark spot where the light is flickering.

“Alright, how is everyone feeling?” Mrs Cole asks.

Excited students roar with enthusiastic comments, laughter and cheers. I stand in my misery, swallowing and blinking; irritated.

“Please, if you haven’t already, give your name and updated contact information to Mr Richards, Miss Jenkins or myself before the day is over... and now, let’s talk about the script.

“This year, the play was chosen by one of the executive board members, Miss Mahogany Howel. She’s been generous enough to offer sponsorship for the production –for props and costumes... whatever we need. She will be here for the event. These are your scripts.” She grabs a script from the tall stack sitting on the desk behind her and raises it for us all to see. “When you get your script, read it. We have enough time from now until April to rehearse for the play, and we’re scheduled to have rehearsals on Fridays. Every Friday. If you’re not able to make it on Fridays, please let us know now or as soon as possible.”

Two students raise their hands with concerns related to the rehearsal schedule. While Mrs Cole is dealing with those two, my mind wanders away to the possibility of whether I could deliberately go into a coma for the next eight months to avoid the production. It would be a valid excuse that I could give to the examiners... wouldn’t it?

Sigh.

As if.

Mrs Cole then gestures to Mr Richards and Miss Jenkins who begin distributing the scripts to the students. “If you already know the story by the title of the play,” she says, “you will come to understand that our version is a little different from the original script. Many changes have been made to fit the director’s vision, but the overall concept is still the same. Miss Howel is one who is always delighted by the original twists we give to our plays. This year is no different. In fact, I’m thinking she’s much more enthusiastic about this year’s play considering she chose it. Please make me proud. Read your script. Learn your script.”

A script finally reaches me.

Masked at Midnight.

I gasp. My eyes widen.

No.

No.

“Masked at Midnight?” I mutter in disbelief.

Olivia comments on my unnerved disposition. “What’s up with you?”

I want to throw myself off a cliff is what is up with me.

I want to jump into the Niagara Falls and drown before the day is over.

I want to do anything that would prevent me from co-starring in Masked at Midnight with Kyle Davidson.

My eyes scan the room briefly for Kyle before finding him. If he didn’t know anything about this play before, he certainly does now. I can’t hear Ron’s words from all the way over here on the other side of the room, but I suppose neither can Kyle, with that grave expression on his face. Ron must’ve vaguely explained it to him.

“Nope. Absolutely not. Olivia, I am so not co-starring as the lead in this play with... Kyle.”

Olivia groans beside me. “This again.”

“Olivia, have you never read ‘Masked at Midnight?’”

“Never,” she responds obliviously.

“Have you never seen the play?”

“Never.”

“Well shit,” I spit, exasperatedly, bursting into melodramatic laughter. “I’m going to kill myself. I am going to kill myself.”

“No, you are most definitely not doing that,” she replies, sternly.

“Olivia.”

“Malory.”

I rub my forehead –frustrated. “Go home. Read the script. Don’t ask me about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Don’t ask. Just read it yourself. I’m... I’m already exhausted.”

Ugh, I can’t believe my life.

This play is so romantically... mushy... and –ugh...

Disgusting. I’d rather drown myself in a sewer.

I turn to find Olivia staring warily at me. “Why couldn’t the play be something where one of the leading stars murders the other?” I ask. “Why... why did it have to be this?”

“It looks interesting,” she says, innocently. “What’s so bad about it?”

“I am the leading lady,” I tell her. “Me and Kyle. Kyle and I. The two of us. We are going to have to pretend to... pretend... to... to fall in lo-,” I almost hurl. “I can’t even put him and that word in the same sentence.”

Olivia pauses. She then bursts out into laughter.

I want to strangle her.

I want to braid my long hair into a noose and strangle her and tie her to the ceiling with it.

Best friend or not, she laughs with such little consideration for my genuine frustration when it comes to this idiot boy.

“Wait- do you mean there are scenes where the two of you have to hold hands and recite love speeches to each other and pretend to be deeply in love?” She has to hug her stomach to keep from falling to the floor in laughter.

“Yes,” I say, calmly. “Go ahead. Laugh. Laugh at me. Laugh. Some best friend you are.”

I look down at the script in my hands before rolling it using it to hit the wall, a grimace plastered over my face. I turn to find Kyle staring at me in oblivion rather than annoyance. I glare at him before storming out of the auditorium.

Maybe I could transfer to another school in Toronto. Maybe I could fake my own death. Maybe I could-

...Never mind.

Clearly there’s no way I’m getting out of this.