staring into space at his utter weirdness in the hallway today.
He hadn’t so much as smiled at me since I’d ended things sophomore year and now today he’d decided…what? That I needed a knight in shining armor?
You have nothing to worry about, he’d said.
He’d cut me out of his life and treated me like a ghost for two years and suddenly today he decided to be nice?
I’ve got your back.
Oh really? Since when? I clenched the fabric of my duvet in my fists. What did he think…I was some sort of victim?
Ha!
He couldn’t have been more wrong. The very idea that I needed his help to deal with a simpleton like Ryan was insulting.
I dealt with my own problems, thank you very much. I was so not a victim.
Oddly enough, I found myself sitting up straighter, the crazy pounding in my chest no longer fueled entirely by anxiety but good old self-righteous indignation.
It felt good. It felt way better than moping here in self-pity and doubt. I stretched my neck one way and then the other as I released my death grip on the duvet and forced my logical brain back into action.
It was time to get a grip.
I looked down at the Facebook page for the competition.
It was time to make a plan.
First step, pick a new monologue…or not. There were no rules saying we couldn’t use the same ones. And if I hadn’t read Monica’s comment, I would never have known. So, there was that.
I tapped my foot against my knee as I sat cross-legged, staring blankly at the screen, scrolling down as my mind churned over the pros and cons.
I’d take the rest of this week to sort through monologues and try to find something new and better, but if I didn’t, I’d just use my old one.
Decision made.
My gaze snagged on a separate thread I hadn’t noticed before because no one was commenting on it. One of the organizers had posted more information about the new scholarship for community outreach.
Seemed simple enough. All you had to do was prove that you’d contributed to your school’s art department or your town’s local dramatic arts scene. No big stipulations on how or the details.
And no one had commented.
No one had taken any interest.
A buzz of excitement had me breaking out of my cross-legged seat and pacing around the room. Maybe this was my way of getting the scholarship money to get out of town.
Maybe I didn’t have to be the best actress in the world, or stand out from all the rest.
I mean, I’d try, but if I failed…
I’d have a backup plan.
For the first time all day I felt a little hope and I sprang back onto the bed so quickly, the laptop bounced. First I had to be sure I was right. I couldn’t waste valuable rehearsal time and energy if everyone else had the same idea.
I scrolled through the list of participants until I found who I was looking for.
Lola would know. She knew everyone. I started a private message with her and her friend Layne.
Me: Hey, ladies! Question for you. Do you know if anyone is going for that community outreach scholarship?
It took a few minutes but then those little dots started to blink like someone was typing.
Lola: Not that I know of.
I grinned. I knew it!
Layne: No one from the vocals or instruments that we’ve heard of.
Layne’s clarification gave me pause. I hadn’t heard of anyone from the acting world going for it either. But none of us were super tuned into the dance world. Dancers didn’t tend to take part in regional performances and musical theater like the rest of us.
Me: Do you know who would have the inside track on the dancers?
More typing.
Lola: I don’t know many dancers. They’re a weird breed.
I snort laughed at that. It was true. They tended to be snobby and stick to themselves, like dance was just so much more dignified than all the rest of the dramatic arts. Even at the meeting in August, the dancers had sat amongst themselves….
Well, except one.
Layne must have had the same thought.
Layne: You could ask Lillian.
Lillian, that was her name. I sorted through the members again and then typed her name into the same IM chat.
Me: Hey Lillian! Remember us? The divas are back! And we need your dancerly insights.
Layne: I’m pretty sure dancerly isn’t a word.
Lola responded with a laughing emoji.
Lillian: Sure, what’s up?
Me: Do you know any dancers who are competing for the community outreach scholarship?
Lillian: No.