The Backyard Theatre Troupe

MATT

"Wait, wait, wait... the newt play the flute, the carp play the harp."

I nod. "Yep."

"The..." Claire falters here, squinting her eyes. "The..."

"Give up?" I ask. She nods. "The plaice play the bass."

Claire slaps her forehead and groans. "I knew that! But what's a 'plaice' anyway?"

I shrug. It's a Wednesday afternoon at rehearsal. We're sitting on the bleachers (or rather Claire is, I'm in my chair at the end) and I'm trying to teach Claire the lyrics of Under The Sea. You'd think such a hardcore Disney fan would know them, but the bridge is pretty fast and confusing.

"The smelt and the sprat, they know where it's at, and oh that blowfish BLOW!"

We both laugh. Someone clears their throat. As I turn, I see Ollie. He's standing there with a slight frown.

"May I sit here?" he asks.

"Sure!" Claire says. She moves her bag from her other side to the floor. But Ollie sits down at the end of the bench,  deliberately between us.

"So. Two more weeks, huh?" Ollie says, directed more to Claire than me.

Claire beams. "Yep! I put a daily reminder in my phone." She pulls it out. "Thirteen days!"

Ollie grins. He's acting normal, but something's definitely off.

"February 23rd, right? Opening night!" I say cheerfully. Ollie turns his head toward me.

"Yes. February 23rd is opening night, Matt."

His tone is so harsh that I have to turn away. What did I do wrong?

Ollie turns the conversation into the one thing I can't relate to: Hamilton. And as they chatter on and on about so-and-so from the original Broadway cast starring in a movie, I can't help but feel all the memories of my old school coming back. The loneliness. The exclusion. When no one would talk to me, and when they did, they spoke in simple words as if I couldn't understand them. What is Ollie's problem? What have I ever done to him? Is it my fault?

Oh, right. Claire. Man, I've got to be more careful. He practically flips whenever I so much as talk to her. But it's not me though. I just have to remember that. He's just a bit... possessive.

"Yeehaw! Right, cowboys! I need Ariel, Ursula, Flotsam, and Jetsam to the stage now, if y'all please," Mr. Derundon calls. Today's outfit is a full cowboy costume. I didn't know they even made those for anyone over ten years old. Claire skips away with her script in hand.

Ollie watches her go with a slight grin on his face. I guess I better get to the point. I nudge him.

"Huh?" he says.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?" Ollie replies.

"I-I don't know. Whatever it is that makes you hate me." I'm trying to be truthful. That's my motto. When you can't be funny, be honest. Ollie's face softens a bit.

"Oh. Like... what do you mean?"

He knows what I mean. "Like poking fun at my wheelchair. Like giving me the stink eye whenever I so much as look at Sianna. Like going insane whenever I try to talk to Claire."

One look at Ollie's expression tells me he knows what I meant. He doesn't speak for a minute. I force my eyes to wander elsewhere.

"I'm sorry." Ollie picks at the edge of his jeans. "Really. It's just, well, the Troupers have been together since we were born, and we've been fine. Then suddenly everything changes. Ben leaves. You come. Before you moved here, I was the leading man. I was the funny one. I would be Sebastian. And then you come and take everything, including my sister and my best friend."

Now I'm feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry too, then."

"No. Don't be. I was wrong. You deserve Sebastian. You deserve our friendship. You deserve... well, Sianna."

Now I'm shocked. Ollie isn't mad? All this time and he was only jealous? And Sianna? What does he mean, I "deserve" her? We aren't dating or anything, yet. Thinking about that makes my heart beat faster.

"If I deserve Sianna, you deserve Claire."

Ollie's face turns crimson. "Claire? What? Oh, no. Not me."

I grin. "For an actor, you're a terrible liar, Ollie."

Ollie swats me away. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Maybe."

"Really sure?"

"Fine! You win, Matt! I like Claire!"

Ollie pouts his lip and fake punches me. But this time, I know there's no anger (or jealousy) involved.

"You should do something for her," I tell him. "Valentine's day is in four days. Ask her out."

Ollie's red face goes white as a ghost. "I can't do that!" he shouts. "Nobody, especially her, needs to know."

I sigh. "Well do something, even if it's secretive. Write her a letter."

"That's so old-fashioned. Who even does that? Besides she'll recognize my writing."

I raise my hands in defeat. "I'm just saying. Can you imagine though? Eric and Ariel... the ultimate showmance."

"Stop. Now you sound like Sianna," Ollie says. "Speaking of her, what are your Valentine's Day plans?"

"Plans? With Sianna?" I ask innocently. "None that I know of."

Even with my (clearly better) acting, Ollie sees through me.

"Bet you five bucks you won't ask her out," Ollie says.

"Bet you five bucks I won't either," I retort. That'll have him confused. Suddenly Claire comes back.

"Ollie!" she says. Ollie perks up at her voice like a puppy. "Come on! They need you for the wedding scene!"

At the mention of the wedding scene, Ollie's face blanches. Still, he lets Claire take his hand and drag him to the stage.

I'm technically not in this scene, as far as I know, so I watch from the bleachers as the wedding commences. It's quite comical to watch. Claire recites her lines as loudly and clearly as ever, stealing the stage. Ollie tries to avoid eye contact with her and his voice wobbles a bit. Every so often, a Wild West Cowboy invades the fairytale scene as Mr. Derundon adjusts people. I watch as he places Ollie's hand on Claire's waist and hers on his shoulder. Ollie shoots a glance at me and I smile. Sianna is standing in the back with the other mersisters. I watch as she shuts her eyes and refocuses for ten seconds, something her therapist taught her that calms her without attracting attention.

"Matt!" Mr. Derundon calls. "I knew we were missin' somethin'! Mosey on down, pardner, what self-respectin' lobster'd miss this cowgirl's wedding?"

Soon I'm positioned in the scene. I watch as Mr. Derundon (who's filling in for the absent girl playing the minister) recite the wedding nuptials. I watch as Ollie's hand starts to shake on Claire's side, and see the tiny pulse as she squeezes his shoulder.

"You may kiss the bride!" Mr. Derundon declares. Claire closes her eyes. Ollie bites his lip. The crowd of wedding-goers start to whisper. I can literally feel the tension.

"Aaaaannnd... blackout!" Derundon declares. "You didn't think I was actually going to make you two kiss, right?"

They obviously did, it seems. Ollie pulls his hands away from Claire like she's made of electricity.

"Nope! The kiss, of course, is entirely optional!" he jokes. "We'll have Alec turn out the lights and then we'll get ready for bows! Simon, you got that?"

Simon, a wiry kid who's the stage manager,nods and scribbles something in his binder.

"Rehearsal adjoined, pardners!"