Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2009 17:42:26 -0700 (PDT)
From: Louis Wilkenson <louis_alaska@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Playing it Hand to Mouth" in Gay/High School section

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
incidents are either the product of my, the author's, imagination or are
used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

The Winter holidays came and went, and with it the two precious weeks
outlined on the district calender for the students of Lakes City High. Now
they find themselves back in familiar halls, hugging friends they haven't
seen in what seems like forever and prattling on about the Christmas gifts
they received. All the while I, Nolan Ferdinand, resident nerd of said
school, am falling back into my normal routine of going to class, avoiding
getting stuffed into lockers, and fading quietly into the background where
I pray to spend the rest of my awkward teenage years. But avoiding unwanted
attention isn't exactly my forte.

Being the only child of a first generation German father and a second
generation Irish mother, I don't really have the most "American"
features. I've acquired my fathers fair blond hair and high cheek bones
along with his sleek build that I've always thought seemed more appropriate
for an Olympic swimmer than a hardened German military officer. From my
mothers side I have her stormy blue Irish eyes, a pale white complexion,
and cheeks that inflame if I get even slightly flustered. I really wouldn't
mind any of it if it wasn't for the fact the other kids find it funny to
call me a Nazi or make fun of my Irish heritage using inane and overused
phrases like, "Top o' tha mornin' to ya, lad!" and "Where are me lucky
charms, boyo!?" And worse yet they call me things like "fag" and "homo"
because I look a little (alright, a lot) effeminate.

Thankfully the insults have lessened since a few of the kids have made some
unpleasant trips to the vice principal's office and then to detention. Now
there's just the occasional "nerd" and "four eyes" when they try to shove
me into lockers or pass by me in the hallway. And yeah, it bothers me and
hurts some, but I'm always quick to bounce back with my best friend and
confidant, Anne Maroni.

She's what kids refer to as, well, a bitch, and honestly, I don't think
it's her fault. Having a good amount of Italian blood flowing in her veins,
she was born with a volatile personality that gets her into a whole mess of
trouble. When the counselors suggested she try sports, I encouraged her to
try it out and get involved. She quickly decided that it was a healthier,
if not more fun, way to release her anger. She now plays in Lacrosse,
Soccer, Fast Pitch, any sport really. If they have a girls' season for it,
she plays it.

Although she isn't the easiest person to get along with, she is still
pretty popular when it comes to the male populace in school. With green
eyes, olive skin, and a well toned body she is a force to be reckoned with,
and she knows her way around well enough. Relationships don't last for her,
but she is more interested in sexual trysts, like most of the school. If
the guy is willing, she is happy to oblige.

While I don't like to focus too much on this aspect, the fact of the matter
remains that if I was given the opportunity I'd probably jump into bed with
whatever guy offered to warm it. And after almost two weeks in Germany away
from my friends (or Anne, in this case) and people who didn't talk about my
lack of a love life, I'm more than ready to see my best friend again.

Spotting Anne by her locker, I can feel my face break into a smile and,
pushing past mass teenage cliques, I make my way towards her. It's like a
war zone in these hallways, and I have to duck, cover, avoid tripping over
outstretched legs, and steer clear of the section that the jocks
occupy. Arriving safely at her bank of lockers, I fall back heavily against
them and slam my head back, a relieved sigh making its way past my lips.

Anne grins and closes her locker, leaning her shoulder against it as she
looks me over, "Looks like some one's wishing they were back in their
beloved Doofenshmertz."

My head lolls over in her direction and I roll my eyes, "Oh please. And
it's not called 'Doofenshmertz' Anne, that's the name of an evil
incorporation in a kids show. The place where I spent eleven agonizing days
was called Dorfprozelten."

"Close enough, broskie," she replies with a shrug. "What was so bad about
being abroad for the holidays? I love visiting my Gran in Italy during the
summer."

All I can manage is an aggravated sigh and a shake of my head.

"That bad, huh?"

Pushing myself off the lockers, I sigh, "You don't even know the half of
it. My grandmother's even more of a psycho since the last Christmas I saw
her, the one where my aunt Nadia was getting married to a Jew."

"Oh?"

To demonstrate my point I grab her by the shoulders and shake her playfully
as I cry out, "Warum heiratest nicht du noch, Nolan? Warum heiratest nicht
du noch?"

Pushing me away, she giggles, "Heheh, wait, wait. Let me figure it
out. Let's put those German lessons to good use!" She looks thoughtful for
a moment and I just roll my eyes, knowing she never retained anything I
told her except the cuss words (which she put to good use).

"Okay, so the first thing you said was..."

"Warum heiratest nicht..."

She nods, "Warum heiratest nicht, and that means... Uhm, it means..."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"No... Not really."

I smirk and cross my arms before mimicking an old German woman's accent,
"Vy youz not married yet Nolan, vy youz not married?!" I sigh and shake my
head, "I'm seventeen and in high school and my seventy year old grandmother
asked me that every single day! I mean, what the hell, right?"

Anne laughs loudly and manages to ask in between fits of laughter,
"So... Heheh, so what'd you say?"

I grin and shrug, taking off the beanie I'm wearing to run a hand through
my hair, "I did what any self respecting German half-breed would do. I just
said, 'Look Gran, I can't have grandchildren. I plan to become priest and
serve God and his son, Jesus, our savior.' I don't know what she was more
pleased by, the fact that I spoke up to her or how well I lied."

Another set of giggles erupt from her and she slaps a hand on my shoulder
and leads me down the hallway,"You might as well be a priest, cause you
sure as hell ain't ever gonna get any female tail my friend." Leaning in
she whispers so that only I can hear, "Not that you'd want to anyway, ya
little crack fairy."

I roll my eyes dramatically and shove her away playfully, "Be quiet, you
closet dike."

She wiggles her tongue at me in between her index and middle finger before
replying, "You wish you had a dike friend to share your fairy conquests
with."

"If ever there were any. The closest I've ever come to getting anywhere was
that stupid game of truth and dare back in middle school where you dared me
to kiss Nicholas Dolan. I'm not putting my ass in that kind of predicament
again b-t-dub."

"Lanie..." She looks at me affectionately, using my nickname. "You do know
that losing that V-card you have tucked safely away in your wallet isn't a
bad thing, right? I've told you this before and I'm gonna tell you again,
you need to take a chance! It isn't bad to lose it in high school!" She
looks at me excitedly, as if she has just made a huge discovery. "In fact,
it is important to do so. There is a reason kids date and have sex in high
school. It's to prepare them for the big scary world beyond those double
doors." Her hand makes a big sweeping half circle in front of us as she
talks, "And I know you personally don't see the point but maybe, maybe if
you found someone interested in you and gave them a chance then you could
see what all the hubub is about."

I've heard this speech before and will no doubt be hearing it again, but
after almost two weeks with my fathers family constantly harping on about
kids and nice German girls I could settle down and have a family with, I
really don't need to hear it from Anne of all people, even if she is just
talking about getting laid.

I turn to her with and sigh, and give her a pointed look. "Alright,
Ms. Psychologist Extraordinaire, I hear you, but how about we delve into
more shallow waters and talk about something else, hmm?"

She makes a face at me but shrugs, "What ever you say slick."

~*~

There aren't a great many things I enjoy about school. In fact, I can't
wait until my four years in hell are up, but there is one thing I look
forward to that comes every year, without fail: the Spring play.

The director, Mrs. Hagen, is not only the drama teacher, but she is also
one of the craziest, most eccentric teachers at LC High. There are a
significant number of students that dislike her teaching methods and her
in-your-face attitude, but she does her job well and is, by far, my
favorite teacher.

The plays she chooses every year for the Spring production either are, or
have something to do with Shakespeare. Last year they performed "WORDS
WORDS WORDS," where three monkeys attempted to write Hamlet. The year
before that they did A Midsummer Night's Dream, one of my personal
favorites. I can only guess what it'll be this year.

Walking quickly into the class, I slip off my backpack and sling it over
the back of the chair before sitting, my legs twitching in
anticipation. When the bell rings, Mrs. Hagen strolls into the classroom,
her scarf and dark auburn hair billowing behind her as if there's a gust of
wind only she can feel.  She leaves in her wake the scent of theatre and
dust and home, and I smile brightly at her as she spins around to face us.

Her bright green eyes look affectionately down her nose at us and with a
flourish, she speaks loudly, "Welcome back, my bright eyed, wet nosed
pupils! I hope your Spring breaks were agreeable?"

I glance over at one of the girls in the front of the room, Melissa
Richards, as she snickers. Raising her hand, she has the audacity to try
and correct Mrs. Hagen's mistake. I feel like punching her.

"Wow, Mrs. H, ya do know it was Winter break, not Spring, right?"

When Mrs. Hagen looks pointedly at Melissa, I smirk and lean back in my
seat, watching. She dismisses the girl with a wave of the hand and tosses
her hair back. "For you perhaps, Ms. Richards, but it is always my personal
belief to consider each break a Spring break for you see..." She plants
both hands on Melissa's desk, leaning forward just far enough to make the
teen shy away, yet still respect student-teacher boundaries.

Mrs. Hagen's lips pull back into a snarl, but her tone remains deceitfully
calm. "When I am given a blessed break from you little heathens, because
Lord knows a Summer just does not suffice, it puts the warmth of Spring
back in my body, as you can see from my rosy cheeks, and reawakens the
sense of love and passion for life in my heart!" Her face goes blank for a
moment, and suddenly, as if remembering something, she flies back from
Melissa's desk, her scarf whirling like a second shadow behind her, as she
thrusts her finger into the air.

"Speaking of which!" she exclaims, ignoring the dirty look the girl gives
her.  She grabs a book from her desk, clutching it to her chest. "The
production this year will be one of my William's best known works, which we
all affectionately know as 'Romeo and Juliet!' It is a tale of passion,
forbidden love, heartache, and oh so much more!" She spins around quickly,
falling into a pose with her head tilted back, the back of her hand resting
across her forehead dramatically. There are a few subdued groans throughout
the class, but she ignores them in favor of retrieving a box hidden
underneath the podium.

I look on excitedly as she passes the scripts out to each student and I
have to keep from bouncing excitedly in my seat. She is well aware that
Romeo and Juliet is my favorite! When she hands me my copy with a wink I
have to fight the urge to tackle and hug her.

"You each will receive a book, and no, I am not going to hold your hand and
walk you through it." She looks at a section of slackers in the back for a
moment before continuing. "I want a five page essay comparing our fair
Romeo and young Juliet's love with that of a more modern romance. Be it
Ms. Spears and K-Fed or your own tryst with love, I care not! But what I do
want is for you all to use evidence, your brains, and most importantly,
creativity my good people."

Her eyes sweep across the classroom, narrowed as if she's trying to instill
fear into our souls before they still briefly on me.

"This will be due the final day of the production, and before one of you
monsters ask, I realize that it will be a Sunday, which means -- and listen
people! -- which means that if you are not going to the last performance, I
expect you give it to me sometime before. I will not be taking them on
Monday." She turns and throws up her hand, her bracelets clinking along her
arm and bellows out, "No excuses!"

I hold the book reverently in my hands and flip it open to the balcony
scene, the images of countless plays passing through my mind, the words
playing out like a film in my head, the inner turmoil clear in their eyes,
the way they look at one another with utter adoration. For them, their love
is simple and they won't let anything come between them. Feeling a small
pang of desire in my heart, I close the book and sigh heavily. I place the
book at the edge of the desk and rest my head on my arms, closing my eyes
and moving my lips in tandem with that of the Romeo in my dreams.

Feeling a sudden presence above me I crack open an eye and see Mrs. Hagen
looming over me in all her state. Sitting up, I give the drama teacher a
lopsided smile.

"Good-morrow Mrs. Hagen."

She leans against the counter next to my desk and tilts her head towards
me, smiling warmly, "Is the day so young?"

I nod, grinning happily at her for playing along. "But new struck nine."

"Ay me! Sad hours seem long..." The corners of her eyes crinkle, a tell
tale sign of old age, but I think she just looks all the prettier.

Smoothing out the front of her multicolored robe, she inquires
good-naturedly, "I trust you had a pleasant time in Germany with your
father's family?"

I make a non-committal shrug. "It was interesting enough. I trust you had a
nice break as well, doing whatever it is you teachers do."

She waves as if she is shooing the notion away from her. "Oh the school
gets so droll during breaks, Mr. Ferdinand, they really should let us out
more often. This one teacher in the seven hundred hall, it seems, started
running through the halls wearing nothing but construction paper and body
paint! Imagine that."

I laugh, scrunching my face at her. "You're a teacher in the seven hundred
hall, Mrs. Hagen."

She grins slyly. "I'm well aware of that." Flipping her hair behind her
shoulder, she lets out an exasperated sigh.

"I must admit though, it was quite difficult picking a play for this
season. So many to choose from and yet so little that our student body can
perform, let alone understand!"

She lifts the play book off his table and shakes it slightly, her head
bobbing in a sort of affirmation. She taps it, saying "When my hand came
across this, I knew it to be the one. Not to mention you've been giving me
those damnable puppy dog eyes ever since you discovered the damn thing your
freshman year."

"I knew I'd wear you down." I prop my head on my hand and look up at
her. "When are you holding auditions anyhow?"

She makes a clucking sound with her tongue as she pushes herself off the
counter and walks around to the front of my table. "There will be no
auditions. I have each role picked for it already!"

I give her a skeptical look, "Mrs. Hagen, if no one auditioned than how--"

She silences me with a raised hand and taps her temple with an index
finger. "It's all up in here, my dear boy, all up in here. I know my
regulars. They will do an excellent job. And as for the lead of
Romeo... Oh, one moment." She snaps her fingers at the group of students,
getting a little too rowdy and gives them her patented glare.

Once they have quieted down, I prompted her to continue, "And what about
the lead roles, Mrs. Hagen...?"

"Mmm? Oh yes, the roles. Well you just let me worry about that,
Mr. Ferdinand. Of course, my Romeo will need as much help as possible and
everyone will have to pitch in. He's the perfect image for my ideal male
lead but he's just a little..." -- Her hand waves jaggedly in the air --
"rough around the edges. Nothing we can't handle, my dear."

I'm not quite sure what to make of what she said, but then again it isn't
often that I understand her plans until well after they've been
implemented. She knows what she's doing, so I trust her.

When the door suddenly opens, all eyes turn to focus on whichever poor soul
has decided to venture in late. And looking at the culprit, I feel my heart
skip a beat. In sauntered LC High's varsity linebacker and my own personal
crush, Satchum Kingsley.

I let my eyes sweep across the taller boy reverently, drinking in every
detail. Satchum, or Sean as everyone seems to call him, embodies everything
I think a guy should possess. Strength, that unbeatable southern charm from
thirteen years spent in Arkansas, humor, undeniable sex appeal (that's a
big one in my book), athletic talent... And he is surprisingly intelligent
for a jock. It's not like I'm stalking the football player or
anything. I've just dedicated a lot of my time to paying a little attention
to the other boy. Well, okay, a lot.

I especially love paying special attention to Sean's physique, and I have
to contain a sigh as he moves across the room. He is built, like most
athletes are, with broad shoulders and a wide chest.  He has eyes the color
of melted chocolate, and short brown hair that always looks like he just
got out of bed, yet impossibly sexy on him.

When Mrs. Hagen starts talking again, I nearly fall out of my seat, but
pull myself together in time to see her walking out of the classroom with
Sean in tow. Sighing, I prop my head up on my hand and look out the window,
indulging in fantasies of Shawn and I spending quiet nights out together,
and maybe some not so quiet nights in.

~*~

Sean drops his backpack on the floor and leans against the wall outside the
classroom, arms crossed over his chest and a look of teenage petulance on
his face.

"Oh Mr. Kingsley, a look like that belongs to murderers and rapists in
courtrooms, and since you are neither, I hope, and at school, I would think
it best to wipe it right off your face, do you not agree?" Her tone is
sincere, but her face is patronizing and Sean has to fight hard not to
sneer. He instead schools his expression before giving her a look as if to
say, "Better now?"

"That's much better." Smiling she mimicks his position before speaking
again. "This is the fifth time you've been late this month, and that is
when you even bother to show up. Do you have an explanation or is it just
pure laziness that drives you?"

Pushing himself off the wall, Sean opens his mouth to retort, but thinks
better of it, shaking his head. "No ma'am."

Her mouth forms a thin line before nodding. With a wave of her hand, her
bracelets rattling.  She sighs and shakes her head as if to clear a
thought.

"As I thought. Now because of your behavior and your belief that this class
is a bird course, you are now pitifully behind and failing. As we both
know, you have to retain a C plus or better in each of your classes, and at
this point there is next nothing you can do to make up the credit."

Sean feels his stomach leap into his throat and has to fight back the wave
of panic at the prospect of being kicked off the football team, but before
he can open his mouth to whine, beg, grovel or do anything, Mrs. Hagen
continued.

"I however, will not be the reason our beloved football team loses their
morale, so I have talked to your coach and we have generously come up with
a solution."

"Whatever it is, I'll do it ma'am, I swear!" His southern accent thickens,
his tone desperate. When she looks at him in surprise, he's afraid he said
the wrong thing.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, and this makes it all the easier for me to
offer you the chance to stay on your sports team. There is only one thing
you must do, and that is participate in my up and coming play."

Sean frowns slightly and knows that it can't be as easy as that. "So you
mean all I have to do is help with the sets and lights and whatever and I
can pass? I reckon it can't be that easy."

The older woman laughs and clutches her hand to her chest before shaking
her head vigorously and raising a hand. "You're quite right, Mr. Kingsley,
it's not that easy. What I meant to imply was that you are going to be \i
in\i0 the play. The lead role of Romeo in fact." It's his turn to laugh,
and he shakes his head.

"You've got to be kidding me. I mean, I don't even know how to act, or
memorize lines, or whatever it is the actors do. I can't do that. I
just... I can't!"

"Not for lack of trying I see," she replies wryly. "You have these few
moments to make your choice, Mr. Kingsley. Expulsion from the football team
or a place on stage performing a masterpiece." The smile she gives him this
time reminds him of that one cat in Alice in Wonderland, and he knows she
is well aware of the choice he has make.

Taking a deep breath, he scrubs his hand over his face, and throws his
hands up in the air, defeated. "Alright, I reckon there ain't much choice
fer me in the matter. I'll do it, but I honestly don't know how I'm gonna
with practice an' \f1\endash\f0 "

"Don't worry about that Mr. Kingsley. All the details have been worked out
with your coach and I. He's more than happy to lend me your services every
other day and to make up the days you won't be spending with me in
rehearsal, you'll be using your study period, which fortunately coincides
with one of my drama techs. He will help you through the play, run you
through the motions and such. I have little doubt you two will become very
good friends."

"Every free period?" He asks, looking very much like a puppy that has just
been kicked in the face.

She nods. "Every free period." Placing a hand on his shoulder she maneuvers
him toward the door. "Come, I'll introduce the two of you now."

~*~

My head jerks up at the sound of someone clearing her throat, and suddenly,
I find myself looking up into the faces of none other than Mrs. Hagen and
Satchum Kingsley.

Mrs. Hagen looks to Sean and smiles before stretching her arm out towards
me. "Mr. Kingsley, meet Nolan Ferdinand, your new acting tutor."