Private School Kings

Reviewing the Play

Heather's room, because as it turns out that was where she was taking me, was basically one big infraction. She had candles lined up on both windowsills, which according to regulations was a huge fire hazard. The mass of extension cords sprouting from the outlet was equally unsanctioned but the biggest offender was definitely the fully stocked mini bar on the far wall. It wasn't a small set up that could be disassembled during room searches. It was a floor to ceiling display of bottles and mixers.

Heather had been clinging to my arm the entire time we made our way through the courtyard, but she finally dropped it when the door closed behind us. I looked down at where her fingers had been, noticing her nails had left red little crescent moons engraved in my skin.

"Sit." She told me, breaking the silence with a nod towards a desk. She crossed to the bar and started to prepare something for herself even though I'd seen her downing a flask less than thirty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

"I'm okay." I said, not meeting her eyes as I lowered onto the desk chair.

Heather looked like she was going to argue for a moment, but then she must have decided against it because she shrugged her shoulders and said, "Fine. If you want to be boring that's fine."

I didn't respond, partly because I didn't know what to say, but mostly because I was tired. I was so tired.

When she finished mixing her drink she sat at the other desk, turning the chair out to face me. She crossed her long legs over each other and leaned back, swirling the contents of her drink with the smooth circular motion of her hand. Her eyes scanned the wall, resting on a large print of a painting I didn't recognize. It was a desolate city street, a lone street lamp lighting the way. I wasn't much for art,but it was pretty. "Do you like the color scheme?" Heather asked, staring at the poster. "Talia thinks we should shift towards warmer tones." That meant Talia was her roommate, and the desk I was sitting must have been hers. I stared at it for a long time, the whole thing decked out with pens and heavy study books, with her blasé attitude I wouldn't have expected her to be such a hard worker. It didn't matter. I didn't care about Talia, and I certainly didn't care about Heather and her games.

"What do you want from me Heather?"

She didn't looked surprised at my words. In fact, she smiled. "Now we're talking." Her voice was cold as ice, it felt almost as if it was stabbing into my chest. "I knew you weren't as meek as you come off." That made me bristle. This was not how things were supposed to go. I had customized myself to win over the Lords and Ladies of Pruitt. For Tim that meant keeping him guessing, but for Heather that meant making her think she was in control. Only, clearly I hadn't been doing as well as I thought because she knew there was more to me than I let on.

"I just..." I needed an actual reason for my whole act. I thought of my first few weeks at Pruitt, just how much all the lacrosse girls had hurt me. "I didn't want you to hate me anymore. I just wanted some respect." That much was true. The protection that getting close to the Lords and Ladies had granted me, it felt good.

Heather didn't refute the fact that she had hated me, but she leaned forward so that our faces were close together, "You think that's what I want? Meek friends?" She asked, and I started. That is what I had thought. I knew Heather wanted to lead, and to do that she needed followers.

"I guess." I said honestly.

Heather sighed, and it felt like maybe she was as disappointed in me for my miscalculations as I was. "Like I told you, I appreciate competition." Her eyes, such a frigid blue, were boring into mine. The intensity of it was too much, and I moved to look away, but she gripped my chin with her free hand. The point of her thumbnail pushed into the skin under my jaw. I could feel my heartbeat, bold and frantic, in my temples, but I didn't move. The look in her eyes was telling me not to push her. "It's why I like Talia." I thought about that. I'd always thought of Talia as sort of like Heather's first mate, and maybe she was, but she was also unflinchingly herself, with her apathetic, deadpan, attitude. Heather kept going. "It's why Maddy and I were such good friends," I actually flinched when I heard her say that name because I knew exactly who she was talking about. Madeline Kwan, Fletcher's Madeline, I knew she'd been popular but I'd had no idea she was once friends with Heather. I tried to imagine them together, Madeline's dry sarcasm and Heather's false sweetness, it didn't fit. Nothing about this school --about these kids-- made any sense, "And it's why you, Murphy Monroe, are so damn interesting." With a toss that jerked my whole head she released my chin and took a long sip from her drink, eyes on mine the entire time.