Drama

CHAPTER TWO

A petite freshman with a blond bob and a last-season Dior bag strolled by. An actress.

"Inconsequential," murmured Liz.

A too-skinny girl with too-long hair and too-thin wrists carried a tray piled with mounds of sticky cheese fries. Clearly a dancer.

"Bulimic," stated Carly.

A fantastic looking guy with an exotic Middle Eastern complexion steered through the tables. An actor.

"Not castable. But I'd like his number anyway," smirked Alex.

It was lunch in the MWS cafeteria, and the three judge-a-teers were off to a great start. They sat huddled at a table in the center of the cavernous hall with a meager spread of Smart Water, Diet Coke, and fresh fruit in front of them. The first day of class was the only day of the year that Liz, Carly and Alex would dare to actually dine in the school cafeteria. Promptly on day two, the truly cool would be clearly differentiated from the losers based on their chosen luncheon locale. The three friends would be among the elite who would carelessly ditch campus for the mid-day break and crowd into a nearby cafe or coffee shop. The pitiful little underlings would hang back for greasy goods peddled by the perpetually grouchy MWS cafeteria staff.

But deigning to slum in the cafeteria was a necessary and valuable first-day-of-school tradition. Everyone was sizing everyone up. Some were staring around in wide-eyed fear, while some, like Liz and crew, were discovering that they had absolutely nothing to worry about. The competition did not look like much. Identifying the actors, versus the dancers, versus the visual arts nerds was simple enough for the seasoned trio. Their years at Madison had honed their instincts for sighting various ambitions and their corresponding traits in their classmates. Paint smeared hands and absolutely no fashion sense: Art Freak. Toes pointed primly to ten and two: Dancer. Perfectly planned outfit and obsessively monitoring Instagram: Actor.

Roxi Sanders, a Senior Year theatre student, scooted down the center aisle of the cafeteria, carrying a box of sushi and several excess summer pounds.

"Over the hill," Liz announced, a bit too loudly. Carly burst into laughter.

Roxi spun on them and snarled. "I'm sorry, but is that rail from the dance-o-rexia department actually laughing at me?"

"Calm down, Maude," Alex interjected. "It's judgment day. It's tradition."

"My name," she hissed back, "is Roxi."

"Oh, that's right," Alex said, turning his back on the red-faced senior girl and addressing Liz and Carly conspiratorially. "She got a new name to go along with the new nose. And hopefully next summer when she gets her new boobs, the doc will throw in a new personality on the house."

"God, I hope they come out lopsided." Liz giggled hysterically into her palm.

On the far side of the cafeteria, someone began belting out a solo from Wicked. Just one of the many odd, wonderful quirks to love about MWS: spontaneous musical outbreaks were common occurrences. Roxi tottered off on her platform boots, casting a final, withering look and an erect middle finger at Liz and her friends.

"That's right, Maude. Go join your coven," Liz said to her back.

"What the hell, Liz? You're already making enemies?" Carly chewed on her lower lip, as she always did when she feared her friend had taken things a bit too far.

"She is the one who made an enemy last year. Maude-Roxi-Whatever has been a threatened bitch from the moment I stepped foot in this school."

"Didn't she make you launder her costume every night after performances?" Alex said.

"Yeah, she said she couldn't perform unless she felt fresh and clean in her wardrobe. Who needs a costume cleaned every night? She must have the world's most stank—"