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Venice High School Drama

Venice (California) High School Drama

Monday

"Each of you will have a part in the school play," stated our English teacher, Mrs. Bullshit.

Okay, so it wasn't really that. Still, it should be. She was one of those teachers. Seriously, she really tried to make her student's lives miserable! If she got the chance, she would give you an F because she thinks that's what all humanity deserves. An F in their English class. Mrs. Bullshit's name was Mrs. Black, but we only call her by her married name when she's in earshot.

The reply she could hear was a bunch of groans, but trust me when I say there was much more complaining. Just the kind she couldn't hear. She was one of those teachers who put the genius kids in the front and dumbos in the back. I was in the second to last row.

The ones that filled the back row were the outsiders-those with D's and F's typically. They kids who didn't care about grades or whether or not they failed in life. The ones that would probably end up in jail or living off of those that work hard and the government's dime.

The ones to fill the front row were the awkward, nerdy kids or they were rich and so had come from fancy private schools with better education. A few in the first row were jocks, but mostly the jocks earned the second row grades. Third row was me-the ol' average C's. So use your head and that makes four rows, right? Right.

"Mrs. Bullshit is at it again," grumbled on of the jocks, Chad Young. He sat in front of me and for once, I agreed with the dumbass. "There are like ten characters at the max, isn't there?"

"How the fuck should I know? I didn't read it," replied Chad's jock friend, Jason.

"I read like two chapters on SparkNotes," admitted Chad, "But that's it."

"You will all choose a character and sign up for that one on the white board," Mrs. B announced.

In response, there was a collective sigh of discontent from us-well, except the perfecto nerds in the front that is.

"I don't want to hear it!" she snapped, but we continued to grumble anyways.

It's high school. We're allowed to be butt heads. Plus, it's Venice. Home of the freaks. Man, walking down the boardwalk was my favorite part of the day. You thought us high school students were weird? You've got another thing coming when you walk down that beach.

"Pst, what play are we doing again?" asked Jamie.

"The same play we've been studying for a whole friggin' month now. It's called The Importance Of Being Earnest," I reminded her. Hello, even I knew that!

Jamie would be in the first, maybe second, row...if she could remember stuff. Wondering how she would remember the script, I didn't doubt she would chose to help out backstage or be an extra.

I had my own small, teeny-tiny issue. I didn't read the play. At all. I'd cheated on the tests, having absolutely no freaking idea what they were asking. So, how was I supposed to know what part I wanted? Easy. Works every time.

"Mrs. Bu-Black!" I called, and the other students laughed. They knew I was this close to letting it slip out. That would have ended badly. Then again, I did have a knack for escaping things.

"Yes?" Her tone of voice hinted how annoyed she was. Slowly, the students stopped laughing.

"What if we don't care what role we get? Also, what about the behind the scenes people?" I asked.

"Mr. Wilcons and I have decided to switch it up a little. We will require the play as a part of the English garde. So try not to skip class even as a behind the scenes person, Miss Fletcher," she answered. "However, after this play for the rest of the year, we will be switching off which class does backstage and which does the performance."