Misfit Theater Company (Wattys Winner 2018)

8. The Struggle Is Real

My first period class is math, and now that I'm in the theater class second period, I've taken notice of a certain someone who shares my first two classes with me and walks the long trek down to the fine arts wing a few yards ahead of me every day: Layla Monroe.

What makes it a little more obvious that we are in the same math class is that today Mr. Buford assigned new seats today, and guess who I'm right next to?

"You're the new girl in theater, right? Janie, right?" she asks after she sits her things on the desk beside mine and Mr. Buford continues down the line of desk pairs.

"Yeah," I reply. It's been a week, she has to know it's me, I mean, she sees me every day. I wonder if she really isn't sure of who I am or if she is pretending so as not to seem too intense.

She smiles a closed mouth grin and unzips her pencil pouch. She pulls out a stick of silver-wrapped gum. "Gum?"

I shrug. "Sure. Thanks."

"No problem. Anything for a fellow theater geek," she says with a chuckle.

She's not a geek in any sense of the term, I think. "So, you're really serious about theater then?"

"Well, maybe not as much as Patti. I'm sure you've picked up how crazed she can be about the class by now, right?" She laughs again. "She's a strange one. Don't you think?"

I shrug. The truth is that Patti is strange, there's no denying it. But she is good strange. Passionate strange. Knows-what-she-wants strange. I can get behind that kind of strange. I should have more of that energy in my life.

"We have a space open in our little troupe," Layla says. "We are super nice in my troupe, and we have, like, little hang outs after school. Both Taylor Valentina, you probably recognize her from the cheerleading squad with me, and Greg Sussek are super nice."

"I'll think about it," I say.

She must hear the insincerity in my voice, because she continues her sales pitch. "Taylor was a lot like you when I met her in 8th grade. She was shy, pretty but not really trying, and making poor social choices. I pretty much saved her, and now look at her. She's a cheerleader, she's popular, and she's had, like, a bunch of boyfriends. We could do the same thing for you, Janie. Definitely think hard about it," Layla continues. "We'd love a fourth person in our little group."

"Will do," I say, barely audible.

Mr. Buford sits the last pair of students in their seats and calls class to order. "Today we will be reviewing the quadratic equation, because according to your tests from Friday, we are still struggling with this concept. I know it's math, people, but we need to study for this class too. Now, take out your packets, and we'll review our notes before moving on."

His phone rings.

"Of course," he mutters to himself as he makes his way to the phone on the wall beside his desk. "Mr. Buford's room," he answers. "Uh huh. Yeah, ok. Does she need to leave now? Ok, I'll send her. Ok, thanks."

He hangs up and locks eyes with me.

"Janie Myers, they need you in guidance," he says before getting back to his instruction.

"See you second period," Layla says. "Let me know then if you need more gum or anything at all."

"Ok," I say as I finish packing up my things. Thank God I'm getting out of this situation, I think, hurrying out of the room.

Patti was right: Layla is trying to steal me. It was tempting, not going to lie. But even if I wasn't already in a troupe I like, I don't think I'd ever take her up on her offer. While it would be nice to be popular and to be known, it would mean I'd have to talk to people. I think I'd rather stick to my relative anonymity.