The Silicon Valley Connection

6 | faith - that's the tea

My drama seminar is probably one of the few things keeping me from mentally falling apart--especially with a general chemistry quiz coming up soon; instead of midterms, one quiz per week is substituted in its place, and they make up forty percent of our grade in addition to the final that's worth sixty percent.

After taking a seat in the auditorium's third row, I browse through my Quizlet flashcards while waiting for my name to be called for the role I am auditioning for.

      Our professor, a previous Broadway performer, barks staging orders, and I roll my eyes, settling in the red, velvety auditorium seats.

"Faith Sommers? Auditioning for the role of Fatimah? Are you here?"

I shoot up in my seat, taking my feet from the armrest in front of me, and shove my phone in my bag's side pocket before walking up to the stage. The professor taps the papers on the table, aligning them, and clears their throat.

She blows her auburn, pixie-style bangs from her face before glancing up at me.

"Faith?"

I nod, confirming her assumption. She squints her eyes at me, and her lips slowly form a broad, shocked smile, leaving me completely puzzled as to why her mood changed so abruptly.

"Another person with actual potential! Take a gander at her, everyone! This is how acting is supposed to be!"

Scratch that. I take back what I said earlier about my acting seminar.

I feel the expectant eyes of my peers looking on from backstage, and my throat starts to tighten and become drier than the Sahara.

I hate being in the spotlight.

Scratch that also. That was probably too blunt. I love acting, and it's one of the things that's only known between my mother and me. What I mean is I despise being called out like this when I have practically no way to respond, and in situations like these, my anxiety thrives. I ignore her sudden outburst and hold my hand to my chest, breathing in and out deeply, slowing my speeding heart rate. Then I immerse myself into character.

———

"Ash? Where's Asher Logan? Has anyone seen him anywhere?" The professor looks around frantically like the lead has just dropped off the face of the earth, with the understudy nowhere in sight.

      "Here," a tired and melancholy voice from upstage responds.

I whirl my body around to come dangerously close with yet another of Aidan's friends. Wonderful. I plaster on a classic acting smile and try not to meet his judgmental gaze--for reasons I have yet to figure out.

"Can you two act out the last few lines of the 'Queen of the Jungle' scene for me, please?"

We're doing a chemistry read already? Why am I not surprised?

Ash sighs loudly, and for once, I feel his frustration. We begin to argue according to the script, and as I raise my arm to slap him, he catches my wrist and slams his other hand on the wall, blocking my path to the right. However, I notice that there's a gentleness in his grip and not forceful contact like it reads. He begins the short dialogue with a low, velvety voice that shocks me to my core.

"Want to try that again, Fatimah?"

I grit my teeth. "Smooth-talking doesn't work with me, Asani. Don't try to start a game you can't finish or win."

He leans in closer, as to where we're mere inches from each other, his face remained in character, the previous silent treatment attitude gone from earlier. "For you, I am willing to take that risk," he says sultrily before releasing me.