Jade Awakening

Flannel (18+)

Beck and I had agreed to push off practicing the Hayloft scene together for the time being and focused instead on the rest of our lines from the first act of the show. For me, it was so that my nerves would not betray me. And I thought that for Beck, it might be so that he doesn't feel a torturous yearning below the belt. After running through the same sets of dialogue over and over again, though, it was all starting to feel tedious.

Beck took his place back on the ground as if he was sitting against an oak tree for the eleventh time.

"Then can't you sit for a moment? When you lean back against this oak, and stare up at the clouds –"

"Okay, can we take a break? I'm sick of this," I cut him off curtly.

I feel bad for being so blunt, but I couldn't help that I was starting to feel agitated from the repetition. He didn't seem bothered by it though and even found my straightforwardness amusing.

"Uh-oh," he teased, "someone's getting grouchy."

"Sorry," I said. I wasn't sure if it sounded sincere, but it was. "My brain is just starting to feel like mush."

"It's cool. We can talk about something else... unless you need to get going?"

I checked my Pear phone to see the time: 4:48PM. I've already been here for over three hours? Despite the work becoming tedious for the past several minutes, I wouldn't have guessed that I had spent so much time here already – I had been having fun and felt like the extra practice was actually paying off in my performance.

I nearly said that there was no rush in me leaving – and for some reason, I didn't want to leave just yet – but then I thought about the sun setting in just about an hour. Scissors or no scissors, I would rather walk home in daylight this time. I compromised with myself.

"I can spare a few more minutes," I told him, "but then I probably should get going."

To avoid any air in the conversation, I thought I'd start by being snoopy.

"Whatcha reading over there?" I asked, pointing to a downward turned book that laid on his bed, several feet away from us.

His eyes lit up with excitement. I deduced that he must be a bibliophile judging from the stack of books on top of his closet as well.

"That's Taming of the Shrew," he said, as if I should know what that is. "It's one of Shakespeare's plays."

"Sounds really boring."

I kicked myself internally again for being so blunt, but my head was still swimming from the overpractice. I was relieved that he didn't get offended, rather chuckled at my response.

"Maybe to some people, but I like Shakespeare. This story is about a guy who marries a shrew – you know, a woman who's got a temper and a big mouth. He trains her to be an obedient and docile wife."

"Wow. That sounds misogynistic."

"Oh, it totally is. A lot of stuff written before this century has a lot of problems, but you gotta read the classics. And honestly, I liked the girl better as a shrew anyway."

"Why? Even today most people don't like girls with a 'temper.'"

"Because it made her more interesting! Even if she's got a bad temper and acts out violently, she's hilarious. Once she's tamed, even though she's sweet, she's... boring."

"Hm. I'm not sure everyone else would agree, but I get that."

I walk over to his collection of books and scan through some of the other titles to see what piques his interest.