"Ooof." He doubles over clenching his torso reeling from my knife hand that whacks his solar plexus. Dear God, mortification doesn't begin to describe the emotions eating up my insides.
"Sorry to interrupt he was just kidding." I drag him outside by the collar of his loose black shirt, exposing his collar bone and sternum. "We even now?" I ask once I've swung him outside the room, my face redder then Hellboy if he was embarrassed.
He is overcome by another round of the giggles, clutching his stomach half sore from the hit but mainly due to excessive laughter. "We're good Spooky." We fist bump, kind of our means of making amends.
Don't ask how it started because I don't know either. "Tink I look like a Goddess, Jordan?" Oh shit. Maybe if I stay still enough she'll mistake me for a life like mannequin.
"She's talking to you, Spook—"
"Yeah I know." I snap at him, turning around sheepishly while burying my hands as far as my pockets could handle. "I, uh, said something that..."
Come on, this is your chance to impress her with your charm or give her a flirtatious cue.
She leans her shoulder against the door frame, skin glistening in sweat and high top shoes crossed at the ankles. Looking at her alone is enough to knock all the knowledge I've stored in my brain for the last seventeen years out of my ear in a waterfall. "...could've been interpreted that way, I guess."
I. Am. A. Disgrace.
Demi smiles, biting a lip corner as she does, "Oh ok, I see. Well if you had said what I heard I was just going to," She exhales and for a millisecond I fear rejection for something I haven't even initiated, "apologise for this morning."
What? "What?" My face must've been amusing because she laughs giddily, striding to me whilst speaking, "I was a bit harsh I'd say, and I'm sorry for the way I acted."
I could listen to her accent all day. "You weren't in the wrong though, I insulted your car which was a present from your dad..." I trail off at the sight of her lips quivering from withheld sniggers.
"I'm sorry about that too. It is a present from my dad and all but I hate that thing more than Jar Jar Binks. He couldn't have picked a more Barbie Girl colour if he tried." I wanted to be mad for the way she lead me on and made me feel like crap. You have no idea how hard I try to be furious with her, to dish out what she did to me a little bit worse.
I don't have the guts to do it, once again catching her contagious grin. "Ok, I forgive you for the car thing, but what's wrong with Jar Jar Binks?" Demi groans in a way I found so unbelievably adorable I just... GAH.
"You can't be serious, he's so annoying and everything about him bugs me."
"Y'know, imma just leave you guys to it." I'd forgotten about Jayden's existence until he spoke, then his departure left us alone in the undercover area harbouring students from the light sprinkle of premature rain.
"So, you ready for what the Lucinda and Tash have install?" She finds my death glare amusing, combing damp strands of hair slick to her face. "You kidding? Who needs biggest loser when a week with them gives you enough exercise to compensate for your whole life."
"Damn right and you don't have air conditioner." I like how she says that. A stampede of Enrapture peers storm past like a military march trying to keep up with their designated leader. "Quick, their announcing the pieces for each segment."
Her over exaggerated eye roll mirrors mine. Taking the rampaging students route at a much slower, paced rate we reach the hall to an upheaval of over ecstatic performing artists.
"Seriously? This is the kinda crap we have to pick from?"
"I haven't even heard of half these plays, Wanna Get Yaked? What the hell?"
"Gone are the days of Rocky Horror Picture Show and other weird ass musicals involving sweet transvestites."
Timothy and Noah appear beside us, we all sport the same clueless, yet entertained demeanour, slight variation in our stance. "Did you see this?" The usually chill and go-with-the-flow Guinevere harshly waves a crumpled sheet of paper in such disgust I suspect it's covered in mouldy chewing gum.
Timothy manages to catch the sheet third go, swearing at the delicate cut his reciprocated from its corner. "I haven't heard half of these playwrights. For our last year their going to force us to perform some lame ass play about, 'a man who bites a police officer then steals a golden Lamborghini in a masterpiece of existential questioning— what is this crap?"
The sheet is passed around, each synopsis worse and less worthy of mentioning based on their weird and whacky blurbs. "Everyone, please be quiet, excuse me?" Lucinda struggles to capture the attention of riled up teens running amuck.
She nods in my direction as I expect. Clearing a croaky throat I yell, "Shut up!" the distinct ring of my voice silences most of them, if not all, bar a handful of conversation immersed Musicians. "What were you saying, Lucinda?" I ask in my normal voice.
"Thank you, Jordan. Now, about the plays listed..." Their attention focuses on Lucinda proceeding their initial shock from my outburst. "Have you ever seen Police Academy?" Rhea asks, her warm breath fanning my ear sending goosebump raising chills along my spine.
There's nothing better than meeting someone with similar pop culture taste to yourself. "Is the pope Catholic?" I respond before imitating the character in questioning then laughing as we simultaneously say, "Don't move, dirtbag!"
A few heads whirl our way, quick to return to a controlled and composed Lucinda, determined to maintain whatever lengths of peace our three ensembles established previously. "—we know you may not appreciate your choices but it's either this or something you create yourself and considering we don't have that long..." she rises her arms in the air, accompanied by a minimal shrug.
"...the choice is entirely in your hands." Everyone is at a loss. Do they react? Retaliate? Quit? The main reason Enrapture has succeeded for so long is due to the explosive final performance which often involves banned play performances conducted against school restriction.
Surely there is a compromising alternative we can settle on? My focused expression is slight out by a deflated Lucinda, aware of my involvement in Drama decisions which assist in our acclaimed productions. "Permission to speak freely?" I ask, biting a lip corner.
Rheas eyes scan my profile and I fight the urge to shrink from her intense eyes. "Fire away." She says exasperated, glad to pass the torch onward to a more willing recipient.
"Why don't we vote on it?"
YOU ARE READING
Chapstick Boi
Teen FictionMeet Spooky or more commonly known as, 'the over involved Lesbian', 'Spooky scary skeletons' and 'JJ'. Doesn't matter what you call her, she's still gay. You've heard all those stories surrounding closeted gays who suffer in silence, hiding their se...
