One day after a session of practice by the reservoir, we laid on our blankets and stared up at the leafy roof over our heads, with the sun peaking through and splitting into rays that fell all around us. I pulled my knees up so that I could keep my feet flat on the ground and wiggle my toes around in the damp grass. I put my hands behind my head and glanced over at Cami. She had rolled over onto her front and was flipping idly through Twelfth Night, with her knees bent, and her flip-flops dangling from her crossed feet.
“Cami?”
“Hmm?’
“What do you think high school will be like?”
“Like junior high, only with older kids.” Cami gave me a look that said she was not catching my melancholy, reflective drift, and was instead stuck in the land of literal.
“No, I don’t mean literally. I mean overall, the grand scheme of things. Do you think we’ll be the kind of people for whom high school is the best time of their life? Do you think we’ll be theatre geeks, or brainiacs, or cheerleaders, or class president?”
“You can be whatever you want, Bryce. You choose.” She laid her head down on her folded arms and gazed at me. “You do realize it’s all up to you, don’t you? I mean whatever you want you make it, or you don’t get it.”
“Do you know what you want?” I asked her.
“Of course, I have it all planned out. I’m going to focus on academics, leadership and service in high school, because that’s what looks best on University applications. I’ll start in student government in grade 9, and work my way up to Class President in grade 12. I’ll organize at least one service project each semester, culminating in an international activity the spring of my grade 11 year. I’ll go to one of the top five international business schools, and graduate magna cum laude. Then, I work in Asia for 5 years as a junior member of a company before moving up the ranks to work in a European company headquarters. I’ll eventually reach CEO, retire when I’m 60, and live in a villa in Italy.”
I just stared at Cami, I really couldn’t think of any words to say. I had to clarify: “You’re serious?”
“Of course I am, what do you mean? You don’t know what you want so you think no one else does either?”
“No, I know a lot of people have a plan, but I just don’t think many 13 year olds have their life planned out to 60, that’s all. I mean, I’m talking about an idea of what to focus on for high school, not a strategy for world dominion in international business!”
“Okay, so I’m a bit of an overachieved. So what?! That just means that I won’t waste any time wandering around trying to decide what to do with my life. If I know what I want in the end, then I can weigh each option in light of that.”
“Well,” I said, rolling over onto my side, “I guess I wish I had that too. I have no idea what I want or what steps I’m going to take to get there.”
“I have an idea!” Cami had a twinkle in her eyes. “I think you should go to high school next Monday morning, and see what happens.”
I had to laugh at her sense of dry humour. “Sounds like a plan. What to do you say, can I follow you around on your well-planned out coattails?”
“Sure thing, we’re in this together you know.”
Shortly after that we packed everything up and headed back to our respective homes. That last week before school was busy with our final preparations for the auditions, and sadly, that was our last afternoon of lying under the trees at the reservoir, doing nothing. Life can seem so melancholy looking back on it, but at the time we had no idea how special those times were. Even now, if I’m particularly stressed, I’m imagine myself back in Guelph, lying on a blanket, watching the wind blow through the trees.
***
The day of the audition, I was so nervous I couldn’t eat anything. My parents both left for work quite early, so I had the house to myself for my morning preparations. Cami called shortly after I woke up.
“You ready, Freddy?” She sounded so cheerful and carefree it was sickening.
“Ready for utter and total public humiliation, is that what you’re asking?”
“No, silly, Ready for your debut as a Shakespearean STAR!”
“I seriously doubt there is such a thing as a Shakespearean star. Even if there was, I’m far from one.”
“Now, enough with that negative self-talk. The key is confidence, if you don’t believe in yourself why should anyone else believe in you?” Cami could make a very convincing motivational speech when she needed to. It was enough to at least give me the courage to get dressed.
“Alright, alright – I’m getting ready. You’re coming over here and we’re going together right?”
Cami was pretty good at picking up the subtle emotional nuances in my voice over the phone, and the panic was quite evident.
“Don’t worry. I’m coving over, we’re going together. You’re going to do great, Bryce.”
***
The Miller Memorial Hall had been built in the 1970’s, and it was quite obvious the university did not have the money or the inclination to update it. It looked like a caricature of seventies style. The carpet was a chocolaty brown and the chairs were a putrid, bile green tone. The kicker was the glowing orange lights suspended from the ceilings. If you looked up and squinted, you could imagine that the UFO’s were descending from Saturn, likely on a mission to destroy those awful chairs.
We were overwhelmed by the room at first, but my attention quickly turned to the ‘competition’ which overwhelmed me even more.
“CAMI! Look at them, they are all older than us, for sure.”
Cami grabbed my hand. “You’re a dork, get in here. It doesn’t matter that they’re older. Any Shakespearean company needs older and younger actors. We’ll just represent the ‘younger’ category.”
We found some seats near the front of the auditorium. My hands were clenched on the armrests, but Cami was coolly surveying the competition.
“Oh, look at her dress – it’s so pretty. But her hat makes it look like she’s trying too hard. Now, that girl’s hat would be perfect – too bad they couldn’t just switch hats. Although I suppose I shouldn’t be wishing fashion success on the competition.” Cami had nary a pause in her noisy whisper of inner dialogue. “Oooh. But look over there, aisle 4 about 6 seats in from the end. Now, he looks like my idea of a Shakespearean dream hunk, don’t you think, Bryce?”
I was short on patience. I felt like the small breakfast I had managed to force down was creating a whirlwind in my stomach. “Not now, Cami!” I muttered, through my clenched teeth. She looked over at me.
“Bryce, chill! Relax your shoulders – you’re going to faint or something. Breathe in, breathe out, everything is going to be alright. Repeat after me ‘This will all be over in an hour.’”
But before I could finish repeating, our names were called. Now thank goodness they let people audition together or there was no way I would have gotten up to that stage. If they had announced “Bryce Scott” instead of “Bryce Scott and Camilla Hudsky” I would have run straight up that chocolate brown aisle and out the door.
“That’s us. Let’s go.” Cami stood up and started to confidently make her way towards the front. It was either follow her or make us both look stupid, and I wasn’t that kind of friend. By the time I got to the front, Cami had already announced our scene and finished talking to the casting director. One less thing to worry about. Then we went to the side of the hall, and walked up the 8 tall, black stairs leading to the stage. The hall looked much more imposing from on stage, even if was only full of 50 or so people. I glanced at Cami. She had taken “position #1” that we had rehearsed so many times. She looked like the perfect viola, with her curly blond hair delicately pulled off her face with bobby pins decorated with little roses. She was wearing the dress she bought for the junior high graduation party last spring, and it was floaty, and ethereal, and very pink. That was part of the reason we had decided that she would get to play Viola when we auditioned, she had the outfit.
I, on the other hand, had everything needed to play a Viola’s brother. My own brothers had lots of old clothes that fit me just right. We had decided that our costumes were indeed, “the best ever.”
I realized that Cami was shooting me a death stare. I snapped to attention, and quickly went to position #1. From there, it was easy. We had practiced so many times, there was no way I could possibly forget a line or forget what to do. It was ingrained in my memory. And what seemed like 10 seconds after we had taken position #1, we finished with a flourish, did our carefully rehearsed bows “that’s a big part of looking like a real actor” Cami had told me in her know-it-all voice.
I got off stage in lightening speed, thrilled that it was over. Cami, the natural actress, looked like she belonged on the stage and would have to be dragged down the stairs, but she must have realized how embarrassing that would be, because she took a few seconds then followed me.
We returned to our pea green seats, and I took a deep breathe.
“Heh, I can breathe again!” I looked over excitedly at Bryce, but she was staring at something down a few rows. “Oh, is that the guy you were talking about before?” She nodded slowly. “He is rather cute – but I think he’s too old for you. He’s got to be at least in grade 11.” Cami didn’t hear me or pretending she didn’t hear me. She didn’t even break her stare when the casting director announced that the results of the auditions would be posted tomorrow morning at 11. She just stared and stared, until the boy stood up and walked out of the hall, Cami’s eyes trailing him all the way.
About Us: We're just two friends, off to choose our own adventures!Carole Nickle
Name: Carole
Current Home: Various Locales, You have to choose a country, so..., South Georgia & South Sandwich Islands
Details: I like English, teaching, writing, website design, geeky computer programs and chocolate.
View my complete profile
~Email Me!~
Plucking BlackberriesMy Taipei Traveler Blog
My 2005 Nanowrimo Novel:
