In Character (1799)
"A little louder, please. They should be able to hear you in the back row."
Alex licked his lips. It was easy for her to say "louder;" she wasn't the one up here on stage in front of everyone. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. There couldn't have been more than fifty people out there, but he was pretty sure they were all older than him--he hadn't spotted any other sophomores--and that made them feel that much more hostile. "Sure thing, Mrs. Lynch," he said, trying to speak evenly. And loudly.
His Reeboks squeaked against the wooden floor of the stage. Somehow his hands had found their way into his jeans pockets again, and he hastily removed them. He breathed in. "But soft! What light from yonder window breaks?" He waved an arm dramatically toward stage left. "It is the east, and Juliet is the sun."
Mrs. Lynch was shaking her head. He wasn't being loud enough, damn it. He breathed in deeply, and made himself stand taller. He had to talk from his diaphragm, that's what they always said in speech class. "Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon. Who is already sick and pale with grief." He slowed to a halt; he had lost track of what he was saying. But it had been louder.
Mrs. Lynch frowned up at him. "Now youre directionless." She looked down at the notes in her lap. "Let's try something else. Let's get you a Juliet. Bianca, get up there with him, please."
Bianca rose from her seat and climbed up onto the stage. She stood, straightened her blouse and dusted off the knees of her jeans, then shot Mrs. Lynch a quizzical look.
She must have been a junior or senior; Alex didn't remember seeing her in class. And he would have remembered her. She was a bit awkward, lacking the natural grace some girls had, but she was quite good-looking. Slim figure, pretty face, light blue eyes and a cascade of red curls falling past her shoulders. Hardly the Juliet archetype, but quite good-looking.
She frowned; he had been staring. He looked away, but couldn't suppress a grin.
"Right," said Mrs. Lynch. "Go on, then."
Alex stepped back again. His knees were shaking. He couldn't think why; he wasnt any more nervous than before. He breathed in deeply, stood tall, and looked over at Bianca. No, not Bianca. Juliet. "It is my lady," he said, his voice seeming to echo in his ears. Bianca--no, Juliet--looked away from him, staring out at the audience. "Oh, it is my love. Oh, that she knew she were!" She really was good-looking. "She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?" Those eyes, that hair, that smile. "Her eye discourses; I will answer it." Wait, when had she started smiling? "I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks. Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven do entreat her eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return." Alex blinked. His knees were no longer shaking. And Mrs. Lynch had been right, having Bianca--Juliet--there had made all the difference. He'd forgotten everyone else in the room.
Bianca looked over at him and half-raised an eyebrow, smiling like she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Better." Mrs. Lynch looked from him to Bianca, and her lips quirked. "But remember that you have an audience. This isn't a personal chat with Bianca, even if you'd like it to be."
Everyone laughed, and Alex felt himself blushing. He turned away from Bianca, trying not to look at anyone. And he had thought he was doing well.
"Right, enough from you. Next Romeo." Mrs. Lynch looked down at her notes. "Daniel, that's you. Get on up there."
Alex hopped down as an older boy stood up and made his way to the stage. Without thinking, Alex offered his hand to Bianca to help her down--she stared at him for a moment, apparently surprised, and then hopped off the stage herself and walked back to her seat. Alex blushed, and everyone laughed again.
"Bit old for you, isn't she?" said the guy next to him as Alex sat down.
"Is she a senior?" She hadn't seemed that much older.
"Nah, she's my grade. But junior girls might as well be in college as far as sophomores are concerned." He gave an unconvincing sympathetic smile. "Sorry, man. Just trying to help out."
Alex ignored him and went back to watching the tryouts. To his surprise, his was not the worst of the lot, not by a country mile. Some slurred through the words, some had no feel for the rhythm, and others clearly had stage fright. Alex felt sympathy for the latter group; if not for his speech class he would probably still have that too.
Only three of the guys were competent, and a wave of calm spread over Alex as he realized that those three were the only others who had received a Juliet on stage to practice with. The rest had been sent down quickly. He was one of the top four, then.
He smiled, and then found to his consternation that he was looking over at Bianca again. She hadn't noticed, but someone sitting next to her giggled and gave her a nudge. He turned quickly back to the stage. What was wrong with him? Yes, she was damn pretty, but redheads weren't his type. Plus, she was older--major negative.
Mrs. Lynch was talking, and there was nobody on the stage. What had he missed? "Right then," she was saying. "Callback lists will be posted tomorrow morning outside Room A-4. If you're called back, I expect you here right after school. See you then."
As the rest of the students trickled out of the room, Alex looked around into the scrum for Bianca. He smacked himself in the forehead. Enough. He put on his backpack and headed out of the room without looking back.
*
Alex had been pleased but not surprised to find his name on the call-back list. And doubly pleased--although he really shouldn't have been--to find Bianca's name next to his. They would be paired up for the callback.
He was humming under his breath as he walked into the theater, and he scanned the room for his partner.
A cool hand touched his arm, and he looked back to find her standing in the doorway behind him. "Alex," she said, and smiled. "My Romeo."
She was standing very close to him. He was breathing shallowly, and he couldn't look away from her eyes. Bright blue, in lovely contrast with her red curls. Had she felt it too, yesterday?
Her smile widened, and she released his arm. "Come on, let's find seats." Her voice was pleasantly low and melodic. She led the way near the front of the auditorium.
The first auditions passed in a blur--Alex was having trouble thinking about anything but Bianca, sitting next to him, about her arm next to his on the arm rest, about her leg touching his every once in a while as she shifted in her chair. Was she noticing those things too?
"Alex and Bianca," came Mrs. Lynch's voice, and Alex jumped. He pulled himself back into the here and now--Shakespeare. Tryout. Romeo. He still felt dazed, but he followed Bianca onto the stage--how had he ever thought her awkward?--and stood next to her at the front, turning his head to look at her.
She winked at him.
A shiver went through his whole body. He took a deep breath, and simply held it for a moment. The shiver passed. He was ready. "If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine," he said, "the gentle fine is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."
Bianca went slightly red--she did feel it too. She must!--but smiled, and said, "Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss."
Every time she said the word "kiss," a shock ran up his spine. "Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"
"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer." Her lips were full, and red, and pursed oh-so-slightly, as though she wanted to be kissed.
"Oh then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair." He stepped closer, took her hand.
She clasped his hand tightly. "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."
This was it. The kiss. "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take." His breath came shallowly; his world had narrowed to Bianca's eyes and lips. He moved in closer. Leaned forward. He could feel her breath against his throat. He leaned down.
"Right!" said Mrs. Lynch, and Alex and Bianca leapt apart. "I've seen enough." She jotted down a few more notes, then stood. "Cast list tomorrow morning, outside Room A-4."
Alex continued to stare at Mrs. Lynch for a long moment. He hardly knew where he was. He turned back to Bianca, but she had already climbed down from the stage and was headed for the exits. She had felt it too, he knew she had.
*
Alex stared at the list in disbelief. He had not been picked. Bianca was Juliet, just as he had known she would be. But he was not Romeo. He continued to stare at the list. It didn't change.
A cool hand touched his arm, and a wave of heat rolled up into his chest. "I'm sorry Alex," said Bianca, though she was smiling. "I thought you did very well." She turned to go, still smiling broadly.
"Wait," he said. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he couldn't leave it at this. He hadn't gotten the part, but maybe he could still get the girl. She had felt it too, he knew she had.
She turned.
He might only have a minute. "You--yesterday, when we did the scene--" How could he express this?
She looked at him expectantly.
"There was this moment where we--look, what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me?"
She reddened, and her grin faded. "I was playing a role, Alex."
His heart sank to the bottom of his shoes. "But even before we got onto the stage, you were--"
"Getting into character. I'm sorry." She did look sorry, at least.
"But you--but we--" Alex spluttered to a stop.
"No offense Alex, but you're a sophomore. I'm looking for someone with a bit more maturity." She turned and walked away.
Alex sat down on the ground outside the classroom. Fine.
Next time, he would be louder.