FicWad

Since Gerard and I had accepted Ben’s offer to be in that play that his friend wrote, called We Never Were, we had to work extra hard because we were rehearsing for two shows at the same time. The other one was a Broadway revue. We had rehearsals most days after school and on weekends, so we took to running lines at lunch and during study hall.

“You know, I really hate these songs,” Gerard said one Tuesday at lunch.

We were sitting outside at our favorite picnic table, scripts and lyric sheets in hand, taking a bite of our sandwiches here and there.

“What’s wrong with them?”

“Nothing . . . It’s just . . . They’re kind of annoying.”

“Forget those,” I said. “Songs are easier to memorize than lines. We’ll just work on it in rehearsal.”

“We’ve got solos,” he said.

I pulled my hair up into a ponytail. “What’s your point?”

“Just . . . Like . . . Nothing. Drop it.” He sifted through his lyric sheets.

Evie sat down next to me. “Hi, guys,” she said.

“What are you doing here?” Gerard and I said at the same time.

She rolled her eyes. “Hello to you, too,” she said.

“Seriously,” I said.

“My lunch hour starts half an hour into yours. Usually I eat in the caf, but I heard you guys were rehearsing out here, so I thought I’d come watch.”

Gerard sighed.

“Who told you?” I said.

“No one you know.”

“Then how would they know where we were?”

She rolled her eyes. “It was Brianna Williams,” she said. “The girl knows everything.”

Gerard sighed again.

I waited for him to tell her to go away, tell her she wasn’t welcome --- something.

Then it dawned on me that he’s never really spoken to her.

“Um,” I said. “You’re kind of distracting.”

“Distracting? How am I distracting?”

“By just . . . Sitting there.”

Evie tilted her head, narrowed her eyes, and studied us.

“God,” Gerard said, finally. “Will you stop staring? It’s freaking me out.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” she said. “You’re the one who wants me to leave.”

“Hey, Alixz was the one who said—”

“That was only because—”

“Isn’t this fun?” Evie said. “We’re having an actual conversation.”

“Shit,” Gerard said. “We need to rehearse. We—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Evie said, and rolled her eyes. “You’re soooo busy. You’re in two shows at once, so you’ve got double rehearsals on top of school and all, yada yada yada.”

“Evie,” I said.

“Alixz,” she said. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll just sit here and watch you guys work.”

Gerard and I just looked at her.

“I’ll be quiet.”

I sighed and looked down at my script. “Where’d we leave off?” I asked him.

“I don’t know,” he said, lazily holding the book between his fingers and sipping Coke through a straw.

“Okay,” I said, and decided to start at the top of the page we were on. “Um. ‘It’s quiet.’”

“‘Yeah,’” he said. “‘It feels kind of strange.’”

Evie coughed, and we both looked up at her.

“Ignore me,” she said. “Go on.”

“‘I can’t believe how long it’s been,’” I said.

“‘Not that long.’”

“‘Maybe.’”

The script said, “Beat,” so I took this opportunity to take a bite of sandwich.

“Is that it?” Evie said.

“No,” Gerard said, and glared at her.

“Does it lead up to you two kissing or something?”

“No!” Gerard and I said at the same time.

Evie sighed. “That’s really disappointing,” she said.

“Why?” I said.

She shrugged. “It just seems like there should be some sort of chemistry there or something.”

“Well, there was,” I said. “But there isn’t anymore.”

“It’s one of those kinds of stories?” she said. “So now it’s disappointing and depressing.”

“I guess it depends on how you look at it,” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “Also,” she said. “You two were kind of boring. I just thought you should know.”

“Thanks, Evie,” I said. “That’s really helpful.”

“Any time,” she said. “Have rehearsals for that show even started yet?”

“The first one is tonight,” I said.

“Can I come?”

“No,” said Gerard.

“Oh, come on.”

“They only need one director,” he said.

I laughed.

“Burn,” Evie said. “I don’t see why I can’t come. Alixz?”

“Maybe some other time.”

“Maybe?”

“That’s what I said.”

“This is pointless,” Gerard said, and closed his script.

Evie decided to take this as an opportunity to change the subject. “How many numbers are you in in Bob?”

Bob was the unofficial name of the other show Gerard and I were in, The Best of Broadway. Two rehearsals ago, someone had suggested calling it Bob, and the name just stuck.

“Six so far,” I said.

“That’s all?” Evie said. “I’m in seven right now.”

“Like that’s such a huge difference,” I said.

“Whatever,” she said. “How many are you in, Gerard?”

“Six,” he said.

Evie grinned. “Hey,” she said, “did they decide who was going to be Miss Hannigan yet?”

There were a couple of songs from Annie in Bob, and while they had picked most of the cast for them, they still hadn’t selected a Miss Hannigan, which was making the rehearsal a tad difficult.

“I have no idea,” I said.

Gerard mumbled something.

Evie suddenly sat up straight and clapped twice. “Oh, my God!” she said. “You know what would be funny?”

“What?” I said.

“They should get a guy to play Miss Hannigan,” she said. “That would be so, so funny. Like, the guy could grow a mustache, and then Miss Hannigan would have weird facial hair . . .” She laughed.

I chuckled. “They’d need more . . . Props,” I said.

“You know something?” Evie said, staring intently at Gerard.

He gave her a horrified look. “I hope not,” he said.

“You’d probably make a really hot girl,” she said.

I burst out laughing.

“Uhhh,” Gerard said, like he had no idea how to respond. His facial expression was priceless.

Evie smiled and nodded. “I was being serious,” she said.