Winnie, Not Winifred

05 | Your Average John Bender

Heidi wasn't all that surprised when I made the convenient decision to sing "A Spoonful of Sugar" for my audition. Generally speaking, I certainly wasn't the most creative individual and as Heidi had reminded me countless times over the past few schooldays we had spent together, it showed.

"So, here's the deal," she said as we sat in the far corner of the cluttered drama room, shielded by a rack of sequined costumes so that no one would 'steal our ideas,' as she had warned me would happen if we weren't cautious. "While I actually think that's a great song for the role of Maria, at some point you're gonna have to step outside the box a little more."

"Ooh," I cringed. "See, I'm not the best at that."

For me—someone who came from a long line of math-oriented thinkers—thinking creatively and outside the box weren't things I was genetically predisposed to be good at.

"Yes, so I've observed." She paused. "I think what you need is a gentle push in the right direction."

"You may want to aim more for hearty shove," I commented.

"Shush. You have the potential. It's there. I simply need to help you harness that potential."

"Okay," I responded, gently gnawing at the skin around my nail. "How exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"That's where I'm drawing a blank," she said thoughtfully. "I think you're capable of more than just dipping your toe in the pool that is theatre." She did that annoying thing where she pronounced it like Ms. Darbus from High School Musical. "I just don't want you to end up in the deep end."

"Poetic," I remarked. "Continue."

"Let's try this. Why did you pick "A Spoonful of Sugar" for your audition piece?"

"Well, because-"

"And you can't say because of Julie Andrews!"

"Well, shit."

My eyes wandered off as I thought for a moment. As my eyes wandered, my brain did too, shifting its focus right on Scowly Boy, who was visible through a crack in the blockade Heidi had built up. I was somewhat surprised to see that he was even here at all, considering he had already missed two of the three days we had class last week.

He sat, eyes closed, head leaned back against a box, and feet propped up on what appeared to be a fancy, royal-looking pillow, the kind that would be used to display the glass slipper in a production of Cinderella. It was a rare occasion, yet always fascinating to see his face without a scowl.

As surprising as it may be, I don't think a scowl was his actual resting face. From what I had gathered in the brief six days we had known each other, his resting face was actually really depressing to see. It was naturally droopy and worn, like he had been crying for days on end without the indication of any real tears. He looked so vulnerable and small in those short instances, and it made him seem all the more intimidating when he put on his frown and got all defensive.

He also always had a pair of earbuds on him, but he chose to style them differently every day. Today he had opted for traditional Apple earbuds in both earholes, which astonishingly, I hadn't seen yet. I guess he thought it was cool to wear earbuds either wrapped around his neck or one in, one out like that weird 2011 trend where people wore just one feather, either in their hair or as an earring.

Despite the fact that he styled his earbuds like an actual psychopath, whatever he was listening to really did seem to make him more mellow.

I had always been very observant, but I found it sort of funny how I had figured all this in less than a week and I still didn't know the guy's actual name.