Forget Green Gables

Our Own Personal Take-Notice Board

If anyone asked me when the fight started, I would have bet money that by dress-rehearsal, all would be resolved. It is not that I don't feel that the fight is serious; I do. Other than my relationship with my mother, my interpersonal relationships are charmed; even I know this. I hate fighting with Jamie, but no fight has ever gone on this long. Had anyone told me when this started that it would still be going into May, I would have laughed in their face. We never fought for real and certainly not over the horrendous likes of Carl.

More than once, I come close to tearing up at the words I speak, missing my friends, especially the one across the stage from me. Jessie's expression has cracked as well, more than once.

Time sometimes moves faster the more it needs to slow down, and I feel that feeling distinctly as I ready myself to enter for the dress rehearsal. My first scene, the one where Matthew picks up Anne from the Bright River train stop is with Felix, a fact that never fails to both calm and inspire me to greater heights. Felix is a good actor. I do not want to be "that girl who got cast because of her hair" so I strive to upstage my twin at every opportunity. I glance to the wings and catch Jessie watching. For a moment, I feel my face turning into a smile, which Jessie's confused expression quickly wipes away. I hate this fight, and I hate Carl, who caused it.

Going right back into character, I hound Felix, as Anne and Matthew, with a thousand questions as we take our "carriage ride" from the Bright River station to Green Gables. Despite giving it my best, I know that Mr. Gilmore is not entirely pleased.

"I'm not entirely pleased," he states after dress rehearsal as the cast and crew lounge around the stage and front rows of chairs. "Tech crew: you're missing props, you're missing set changes. Carl, I know at least three of those were you. Get it together. Actors...this story is a coming of age story."

"Actually, Anne of Avonlea is the coming of age story," one of the seniors interrupts.

"Seriously?" Danny mutters to me. "I just want to go home and sleep."

"Me too," I murmur sleepily, my head on his shoulder.
"Cheyanne!" The director exclaims after he barks at the senior who interrupted him. "I know you're in love with Charlie Sloan and all that, but please, pretty please with a cherry on the top, can you please kiss Gilbert Blythe for more than a couple of seconds? Like you're in LOVE?"

I smirk at the senior playing Gilbert. "Can you leave some Tic-Tacs backstage? His breath is awful!"

Mr. Gilmore narrows his eyes at me. "FINE. Matthew, Marilla is your sister, not your maid. Please remember that when you speak to her."

"Got it," Felix answers.

"He doesn't know the difference at home," I pipe up. Felix sticks his tongue out at me.

"I think that's all, People. I need to see Anne and Diana. Everyone else, go hang up your costumes and get a good night's rest. I'll see you all here tomorrow at 2."

I stay put and Jessie slowly rises from where she sat, and sits on the edge of the stage a few feet from me, keeping her face away. I wonder if she has a rock in her stomach like I do.

"I know you two are in some sort of fight over Carl," Mr. Gilmore starts after the auditorium clears.

"Ewww," we say in unison, which makes us both stop talking. Catching each other's eye, we share a small smile.

"I don't care to hear the particulars. I know far more about my students' love lives than I ever want to. Frankly, I don't know what you see in him, but I have been impressed with your on stage dynamic and want to tell you so. I was worried when the production started." I smile, as does Jessie. "Now, go home and get some rest. Do you know how to French braid your hair?" We nod. "Good. I want you each in two French braids when you arrive tomorrow. Rest up, ladies!"
Jessie hurries off the stage to change out of her costume, but I linger. "Mr. Gilmore, we're not fighting over Carl."

"I really don't need to know the details, Ms. Strait."

"Seriously, though..."

Mr. Gilmore leans on a chair. "Cheyanne, your brother and boyfriend have filled me in. I know what Carl says happened, and I want you to know that the only reason he has been allowed to stay on this production is because I cannot kick a student off for being a creep, or I would have. If you tell anyone I said that, I will lie. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

I nod, though I am not entirely sure I do understand. "Thank you, Mr. Gilmore."