PhD Candidate Faustus

17: all places shall be hell that are not heaven

Mephistopheles

"It's not the same," I say, looking down at the metal vape in my hand.
"Nope, it's not the same," Coach says, lighting a pair of cigarettes, and then handing me one. "Can't say we didn't try."
"Oh, I'm still going to use it, nicotine is nicotine," I say, going over to fuss with the sound system. I'm the only person who volunteered to set up for the Winter Formal, something about it being cursed and historically going badly, anyway, I am the only person who volunteered to set up and Coach is the only person who volunteered to watch me which means we can smoke in peace. He's actually helped as well so that's something. Given my time in shelters and youth crisis centers I'm actually moderately good at decorating things and setting up for large groups of people. Churches as well, tend to feed you and not ask questions when you show up and start setting up tables.
"I don't think it looks bad actually," I say, cigarette in my mouth, as I go over to fuss with the sound system. It does honestly look nice. We've got snowflakes and things hanging from the ceiling, and a disco ball that's all blue and white. I picked blue and white because it amused me because our non-secular Winter-Formal actually falls on Hanukkah, and for that reason I also put a bunch of candles out on the table. Not, like, the proper candle thing but it feels vaguely like Hanukkah and I think my grandmother would find it funny, kind of, her rogue criminal sex worker grandchild decorating this catholic school for Hanukkah.
"I'm trying to lock it so the volume doesn't go too high, what do you want me to play?" I ask, going to the computer that controls the music. Like, four of our fencing students got in a fight the other week and Coach is making them DJ as a punishment.
"Anything but Christmas music, we got to listen to it all night," Coach says. It's the day of the Formal, and we're supposed to be doing final touches. I get the period off to do it so clearly I'd rather be here smoking. He would too apparently. He has to chaperone, as does Father Thomas, they do not seem thrilled about this, giving Dover house a pep talk about not freaking out or overreacting no matter what happens.
"Fair," I say, turning on 'My Love is Chemical' while I fuck with the presets to lock it all. I let it be loud, but acceptably so, not blasting. I password protect the settings as well.
"You going tonight?" Coach asks, offering me a broom stick. He works with me on fencing moves usually during this time. I could use the work. I'm nothing like good, Fausty and I don't even get to go to tournaments and such. I do the stretches and run and all at practice, but I'm not at all great at it enough to compete. Fausty curls up in a ball refusing to participate and reading books. Yeah, I know. But, anyway, I honestly kind of like it. I doubt I'll ever get the chance to compete, but the footwork and moves do have some practical value.
"I guess. I invited a girl I know from town, but she's got work," I say. Ember wanted to come, she was sad they wouldn't let her off. On weekends she works at the museum and it's a Friday night and the museum is having Christmas lights. If someone picks up her shift then she'll be able to run over, but we're not holding our breath.
"Too bad," he grunts, tapping my broom stick with his, "Widen your feet, don't be afraid to step quickly, there—better."
"It doesn't matter. We're not a thing it's just someone to hang out with," I say, sighing a little. "I think I like someone else."
"Who likes someone else?" He guesses.
"I don't know," he did ask Helen, but we both already knew he couldn't go with me. "I don't know. It doesn't matter anyway does it? Stupid, high school romances anyway."
"Well, it matters right now, right?"
"Yeah," it really does. I'm as bad as Fausty. I want someone to like me, for me. I want someone to choose to stay.
"But you're still going?"
"Yeah, never know, I mean there's no point in sitting it out is there? Someone might shoot down the disco ball and cut all the lights."
"Father Thomas told you about that huh?" Coach laughs. Past Winter Formals have been fraught with chaos, it would seem.
"Yeah, he, did, in a cautionary sort of way. Anyway, I'm still going to come."
"What are you wearing?"
"I'm still going to come."
Coach starts laughing, "Don't go in until I get there I wanna see Alleyn's face. Seriously, though, what are you gonna wear?"
"Depends on my mood," I say, nearly knocking the broom stick from his hand, "Fausty's got a date."
"I'm sorry."
"What's that mean?" I ask, retreating as he taps my broomstick.
"I'm not blind, kid."
"It's a date with Helen, which is fine she's like my sister, I think, just—I don't know I'm so fucked up," I sigh, stopping to take the cigarette from my mouth and breath.
"Tough."
"Aren't you supposed to have wise words?"
"Sure: you know who you like and you don't. You also know who you're supposed to like and it's that second one tripping you up."
"How dare you be this accurate," I say, blocking a blow using my broom.
"Benefit of life-long tobacco use—hi Declan," he addresses Father Thomas who walks in behind me, looking disappointed, but not overly surprised.
"Why am I not surprised?" Father Thomas sighs.
"Because you know me?" Coach asks, innocently.
"I am using the vape, I am, this is our last decorating cigarette, like a farewell," I say, quickly.
"Oh, I don't care. There's a tux in my office that ought to fit you," Father Thomas informs me.
"I have something to wear."
"If you check the rules students who are enrolled as males must wear tuxes," Father Thomas goes to sit on the steps of the stage.
"Spoil sport," Coach says.
"I have something to wear," I say.
"You're not gonna get the chance to dance with your crush if you get kicked out for showing up in feminine clothing," Father Thomas sighs.
"Thank you," I say, leaning on my broomstick.
Father Thomas nods, looking around, "Why does it look like Haunkkah in here?"
"Do not look at me like that, I'm an atheist. I was supposed to watch the kid, not what the kid was doing," Coach holds up his hands.
"Yep, you were supposed to watch what the kid was doing, but, we're gonna skip it," Father Thomas puts his head in his hands, "It's been a day."
"Did anything happen I don't already know about?" Coach asks.
"Dean Alleyn just discovered evidence of a massive cheating ring in some of the upper level classes," Father Thomas sighs.
"Oh, wow," I say like I didn't do it when we know I did.
"Someone will talk, we'll catch them eventually, just a hassle," Father Thomas sighs, "And now this tonight."
"It's just a stupid dance," I say, wishing I didn't care as much as I do about it.