Chapter Seventeen

The "Candy Corn" persona is quickly gaining Candice confidence... and enemies.

“Candice, breathe.”

                I love Shannon to death, but have you ever had that one friend that you absolutely adore sometimes and then the next minute you want to knock their teeth in? “You know, contrary to popular belief reminding a nervous person to breathe is not actually helpful. At all.”

                The leather of her jacket makes this ungodly noise as she shrugs her shoulders, the material bunching up near the zipper. “Well if I don’t remind you then you’re gonna’ turn purple.” As if the words weren’t nuisance enough, I’m shocked by the sudden feeling of a palm sliding up underneath my hair and brutalizing the back of my head.

                “Ow!” I’m quick to place my hand where my friend’s was briefly as I spin around to face her. “Et tu, brute!”

                Shannon’s eyes are open as wide as an oasis, their blue tint furthering that notion. “Did you just quote Shakespeare?”

                “Yes… I think?”

                “Confidence.”

                “Yes!”

                Her glossed lips curve into a smile as her formerly abusive hand now tenderly massages my tense shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

                “Thanks, I think?”

                Before Shannon can make a snarky retort, there’s the sound of a door creaking open and bodies rushing towards it. “Oh, here we go!” Shannon shouts as she joins the stampede.

                I’m less enthused, or at least I look that way. The callbacks list is sacred in the theatre world, of course. I’m excited to see it, but I don’t want to appear that way. My whole life has been nothing but disappointment and rejection, and everyone around me has witnessed it. So now I don’t let the world know I’m excited.

                I hear gasps, some swearing from the girls who get up there ahead of me. “No callback for Sandy?!” I hear one girl cry out.

                “Ugh, this is such bullshit!” another shrieks as she turns on her heels and stomps down the hall, her cork wedges making a seemingly impossible amount of noise given their composition. “Congratulations, you undeserving little b***h,” is all I hear as she passes me.

                What the hell is she talking about? I don’t even realize she’s talking to me until I feel the spit from her over-enunciation of the ‘b’ in ‘b***h’ hit my cheek.

                “Holy s**t,” Shannon’s voice adds in much more softly. “Holy f*****g s**t!” Now that sounds more like my best friend.

                “What?” I ask naively and confused as I finally make it to the front of the pack.

                “Candice, you’re Sandy,” she’s not looking at me when she says it, so her voice doesn’t carry well over the roar of the people behind us also trying to get through.

                “Wait, what?” I try to lean over her to read the list for myself, but with the way I’m swaying back and forth just trying to stay balanced with all of the shoving going on, it’s nearly impossible to read a thing.

                “You’re Sandy, d****t!” She spins around and begins shaking me immediately, her eyes all lit up with pride. Despite her enthusiasm, I refuse to believe it. I break away from her embrace and move even closer to the sign, finally able to read it for myself.

                “This is impossible,” I stare at the words on the page before me, not even a fraction of what’s typed there in black ink making any sense to me. “Oh my God.”

                It’s not a conscious decision, but then again nothing that I’ve done lately seems to have much thought behind it. I’m irrational and spontaneous, and that seems to confuse a lot of people.

Myself included.

I tug on the callback list, the tack that was holding it to the bulletin board flying somewhere into the crowd of people that I find myself shoving my way through.

I can hear footsteps coming after me, others calling out words like “bring that back!” I don’t exactly know where I’m running to. That’s because it’s not a where. It’s a to who. Desperately searching for any sign of a leather jacket, I turn every corner.

If one more teacher shouts ‘no running in the halls’ then I’m just going to rent some rollerblades. They never say anything about no rollerblading in the hall, and I’d certainly be able to get to him faster.

Just when hope seems lost and I start to think he’s already in a classroom somewhere, I pass a hallway full of people. Senior hall, respectively. One tall boy catches my eye. “Adam!”

Before I can think better of it, I charge down the hall into the sea of upper classmen, all stepping aside to let the crazed sophomore with big doe eyes through before I can knock them down.

He looks confused, almost a little afraid as I draw closer. With no hesitation, I leap into the air and wrap my legs around him, kissing him in front of his peers. When I pull away, he looks just as confused as before.

“Candice… You feeling okay?”

I pull the paper back from behind his head before holding it in front of his face. “You’re going to Homecoming with Sandy!”

As the information I’m presenting finally registers in his well above-average brain, his jaw drops and he sets me down on the ground just to grab my cheeks and kiss my forehead. Not as bold of a gesture as mine, but it’s cute. At least, I think it is until I hear laughter.

He’s a senior, I’m a sophomore. And he just kissed me as if I’m a child after I leapt into his arms and wrapping my legs like a full grown woman. I can feel Candice creeping back and Candy Corn starting to fade quickly. “Candice, I’m so happy for you. I told you that you could do this.”

I don’t intend to turn cold, but given the rather negative energy around us I can’t really avoid it. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Hey,” Adam begins, obviously sensing my withdrawal. “We will celebrate tonight, okay? I promise.” The bell rings right after he’s done speaking. I get one last kiss �" on the freaking cheek �" before he’s off to his first class.

I stand there alone. In my moment of great triumph, I still find myself feeling disappointed. In my life, when one thing goes right, two things go wrong. It never fails.

Before Adam disappears into the classroom he turns to me. “Hey, did Shannon get a callback?”

F**k. Shannon… I left Shannon.