Chapter 5

 

What the—kill it! The hell was that noise? Must… make it stop…Oh, sweet mercy, what time was it? Aleda squinted at her alarm clock. Six o’clock. She gave it a heavy swat that sent it skittering across the little table next to her bed. She groaned and pulled the covers over her head. No, no going back to sleep. It was Monday. Have to get up on Mondays. Have to go to school. Don’t want to go to school. Have to.

She lost the argument with her conscience and rolled out of bed. She had been getting up at six for two months, so why did it keep getting harder? She had even gotten to bed at a reasonable hour last night. Just not fair. She wasn’t wired to wake up this early, damn it! She lurched into the bathroom on automatic. Hot water. Felt good. Dry the hair. Hair that was a serious pain in the neck to dry. It was getting long. Almost to the middle of her back. Had it always been this long? She couldn’t remember her last haircut. Mom had probably trimmed it a while ago.

She barely even noticed the walk to school—the days were starting to blur together into one long haze. For as much as she hated this place at the start, it had not taken her long to get used to it. She found her seat in homeroom and laid her head on the desk. Time enough for a nap before first period, as long as she woke up enough to grunt when the teacher called attendance.

“Hey! Leda, right?”

Aleda raised her head and peered blurrily at the source of the noise. Nate. Looking as hot as always and entirely too awake. She tried not to groan. She sat back up in her seat.

“Hi Nate, what’s up?” she asked with a smile.

“Not much. Listen, that essay for Poe isn’t due today, is it?”

“No, next week,” she said.

“Thank God!” He leaned back in his chair and stretched. “I’ll probably do it over the weekend, then,” he said. “No rush. Did you do yours?”

“I started,” Aleda said. “Didn’t make it past the intro paragraph. Poe’s a decent writer, but he’s way too morbid for me.”

Nate shrugged. “Whatever. It’s all just a bunch of fancy words to me.”

Unfortunately, the bell soon rang for the end of homeroom. By the time Aleda got to English class, he was always sitting with his friends. Chorus and rehearsals for the musical were the only real time she had to talk to him. She wasn’t even all that certain what he did outside of school.

She couldn’t do anything in English class, she knew that. Even if she had been willing to risk making a fool of herself in the middle of class, there were too many of his friends always surrounding him then. She’d never get near.

And of course, after English and chemistry class she had to suffer through history with that horrible Ms. Tyler.

Aleda had no patience for history. No patience for the endless lists of names and dates of kings and wars, nations rising and falling and what difference did it make? Historians never recorded the truly important events. Historians never knew.

Even worse was the fact that she hadn’t learned American History at all, growing up in Europe. She had only a vague notion that it had somehow started on July 4^th and could recognize the national flag when shown. What did she care about the exact dates of wars and court cases? It just all seemed so very useless. After all, the sort of jobs that she would likely have in her life would hardly require her to know those kinds of facts.

Up front, Ms. Tyler scribbled something almost completely illegible on the chalkboard.

The trees outside were really quite pretty. Sometime in the past month they had turned from green to red and gold. Delicate flakes of flame drifting down from dead branches, dark with autumn rain. She watched them dance in the breeze.

The teacher droned on.

If the class itself hadn’t been so laughably easy Aleda was sure she would have walked out by now. Rather than waste her time paying attention to what Ms. Tyler was saying, her favorite way of passing the time was to make lists in her head of all the reasons why she hated her.

Much longer and she’d have to start writing them down.

First, Ms. Tyler was arrogant. Heaven forbid anyone disagree with her. She was by far the most knowledgeable person in the room. Ask her about any subject, and she would gladly tell you in no uncertain terms exactly what she knew—and that included just about everything. Aleda had a list for that, too.

Second, Ms. Tyler was utterly unimaginative. Aleda told Mara about her breakthrough method of copying the textbook onto the chalkboard, calling her a ‘walking scantron’. Mara had snorted Pepsi through her nose at that comment. Aleda herself hadn’t been laughing—she actually had to put up with the woman.

Third, Ms. Tyler was a stodgy old b***h with a stick up her a*s. Technically, this could have been split into at least four different complaints, but Aleda was fond of that particular designation. Maybe it was the way she marked down for creative answers on the homework. Maybe it was how she seemed to discount all events that took place after 1950. It could very well have been the grainy old tapes of some monotonous old ‘history expert’ from the 1980’s that she made them watch on a weekly basis.

The subject itself didn’t help either. Aleda considered the entire concept of memorizing names and dates to be a complete waste of time. How would knowing a list of people who had drawn up the Articles of Confederacy help her understand history? She’d already heard the crazy stories her father’s friend Mike would tell about the War of 1812. The only concession she would make there was that Mike’s stories might in fact be a little embellished.

The pink eraser on her desk had Aleda’s full, rapt attention. She twirled it idly, hardly noticing Ms. Tyler explaining the finer points of whatever era they had started. Pre-Revolution something, probably. It’s not like the country had a whole lot of history yet. No reason to bother listening.

Ms. Tyler paused, writing something on the board. Check to make sure. Aleda glanced up briefly, then checked her textbook. Same as the very next subheading. Honestly, why bother? Should have asked to be home schooled. Only a year left, anyways. She was sure she could pass the exams. Her next twirl was too hard; the eraser flew from her desk, skidding to a stop several desks over. Too far to reach.

Aleda sighed and dropped her chin into her hand. A few dark curls in front of her eyes, and nobody would be the wiser.

Eternities later, the bell rang. Aleda scooped up the eraser from where it had fallen and headed towards her next class. Between precalculus, drawing, and French class, she got plenty of naps during the day. Chorus, however…

Nate was in her Chorus class. Nate, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed soccer player who barely noticed her long enough to ask about homework. Whatever. It still counted as talking.

That particular day was the day that their Chorus teacher, Mrs. Dodges, officially announced the date for the tryouts for the school musical. Aleda had overheard Nate talk about trying out for it a few times; she grabbed one of the flyers on her way out and stuffed it into her backpack. She wasn’t really interested in acting, but it might be worth a shot. After all, it would be an excuse to spend more time with him. She watched him leave for soccer practice. He always had one thing or another to do after school. She should get at least one of those things. She continued thinking about it while she walked back to her house.

 

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She told her idea to Mara in chemistry the next day.

“Stage crew, huh?”

“Yeah. I might see if they need somebody to help with the sets, too.”

“Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Mara said, prodding the vial of clear liquid.

Aleda raised an eyebrow at her lab partner. “Isn’t that supposed to be turning opaque?”

“Er, yes. It will, give me a minute,” Mara said, glaring at the vial. “Where do you sign up for stage crew, anyways?”

“There’s a sign-up sheet outside the chorus room. First meeting’s on Thursday.”

“Tell you what… I’ll sign up if you do.” Mara stirred the mixture a bit with her pencil, getting impatient.

“I thought you said musicals sucked up your life?”

“Yeah, straight out of your nose. But somebody’s got to keep you out of trouble, right?”

Aleda backed away a bit. Mara’s pencil was now smoking.

“Oh, hell,” the girl muttered. “Acid, base, what’s the difference anyway?”

“Ye-eah. I’m just… going to…” Aleda ran to get Ms. Logan.

 

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Aleda got to the auditorium that Thursday a few minutes early. A few other students were there as well, and Aleda recognized the girl with pink hair from her precalculus class. The girl saw her and waved, smiling.

Well, Aleda wouldn’t object to another friendly face. She got up and walked over to the girl.

“Hi! You’re in my precalc class!” the girl said cheerfully.

Aleda grinned back. “Yeah. I’ve sat next to you a couple times. So you’re doing stage crew, huh?”

“Yup! Might help out with the set, too. I don’t know. I’m Val, by the way, not sure if I introduced myself yet.”

“Aleda.” She stood there awkwardly for a moment, trying to think of something else to say. “I… I like your hair, by the way. The pink works for you.”

“Aw, thanks!” Val fingered a fuchsia lock. “I thought it suited me. Mom complained, but it’s her fault after all.”

Aleda cocked her head quizzically. “Her fault?”

“Val is short for ‘Valentine’. This was pretty much inevitable.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Hey Leda!” Mara called, jogging down the aisle to the two girls.

“Hey, Mara. You doing stage crew, too?” Val asked.

“Yup, yup! Should be fun, what do you think?”

“I love it. I’ve been on stage crew all through high school, it’s great,” Val said.

“How long do you think we’re going to be here?” Aleda asked.

“I don’t know. It’s the first rehearsal, so probably not too long,” Val said. She poked at Aleda playfully. “Besides, it’s not like we really have to do much. Once Dodges gets here we’ll just hang out backstage for a couple hours and make fun of the actors.”

“Oh, I don’t know if Aleda’s going to be ‘making fun’ of the actors,” Mara said. Aleda glared at her, and she pretended not to notice. “So much as making googly-eyes at them.”

“Mara, you suck.”

“O-oh! Do we have a crush?” Val asked. “Who is he? What’s he look like? What part is he?”

Aleda blushed. “It’s not a crush! Geez! I happen to have a friend who’s one of the actors.”

“Yeah huh, whatever you say,” Mara said. She turned to Val. “His name’s Nate. He’s playing the Mayor, and he’s dreamy!”

“You suck so, so much.”

“Aw,” Val said, “That’s too cute! Actors are always fun. The guy playing Harold Hill is especially hot.”

“What’s he look like?” Mara asked.

“Hm… tall, reddish-brown hair. Not sure what color his eyes are. But definitely hot.”

“I may have to investigate this,” Mara said.

“Hey now! I already called dibs on him!” Val protested.

Aleda rolled her eyes. “You guys are nuts.”