The Unfortunate Occurence at Shenandoah High 2020 - 2. Chapter 2

So, turns out, my first day back at school isn’t a complete disaster. It was actually quite the opposite. Not only did I manage to keep my breakfast down, I actually had fun. Keisha and I have four out of seven of our classes together and we also have the same lunch period which means we get to hangout on the bleachers and ogle the Varsity football team.

But that’s not even the best part. My last period of the day is theater. I’m not an actor. Neither is Keisha. But everyone is required to have a Fine Arts credit in order to graduate. I guess I could’ve joined show choir but I’m not that coordinated, or I could’ve take art but I can’t even draw a stick figure. So theater it is.

I walk up to Keisha standing at her locker after sixth period and we take our time walking to the auditorium which is in a separate building which sits behind the main building. I’ve only been in the auditorium twice. It smells old and moldy and the lighting is terrible. There’s already a few people gathered on stage, so Keisha and I climb the stairs and take one of the seats in the formed circle.

When the bell rings, a pretty, dark-haired girl in a lavender romper hops up from her seat. I look around for Coach McHurk who is listed as the theater teacher on my schedule but he’s nowhere to be found. Rumor has it, he’s only filling in until we find a proper theater teacher. Apparently the last one got a wee bit too close to one of the students and got himself fired. I wish I knew who the student was but apparently, they graduated last year.

“Hi, I’m Leah Platt and I just wanted to welcome each and every one of you to the Shenandoah High Theater Club.”

Keisha and I exchange a look that says, “Girl, you need to calm down.”

Leah doesn’t bother to take a breath. “Or as we like to call it, the Shenan-Clan.”

“Um, excuse me.” Keisha’s hand shoots up. The silver bangles on her left arm catch the overhead stage light. “Did you say Klan?”

Before Leah can answer, a tall guy steps forward. He looks over at Keisha and gives her a knowing look. “Clan with a C.” He shakes his head and sighs. “Trust me. It’s better than the alternative.”

“Which is?” Keisha asks twirling a lock of her hair.

“The Doah-Mites.”

“Have mercy, Jesus,” she says.

“I know, I know.”

Leah looks confused as she watches the banter. Once Keisha and mystery hot guy’s exchange is over she becomes Rachel Berry 2.0 all over again.

“This is Sheldon Lockhart.” She gestures to the guy Keisha was just speaking with. “He’s like our own Rogers and Hammerstein. So, let’s introduce ourselves. We’ll start with you.”

Leah gestures to Nick Ramirez.

“My name is Nick. I joined because it’s my last year and I need a Fine Arts credit to graduate.”

Leah frowns a bit and then points to the guy beside him.

“I’m Jonathan Yang but everyone calls me Jon-Jon. I’m here because I love theater.”

I look over at Keisha and smirk. The real reason Jon-Jon’s here is because he called Coach McHurk a fuckwad under his breath last year in PE. Coach heard him and threatened bodily harm. In all fairness, Jon-Jon did apologize but Coach wasn’t having it. As punishment, he made Jon-Jon take theater this semester.

“Welcome, Jon-Jon,” Leah gushes. She points at Finn Montgomery. Okay, cut. Let’s talk about Finn Montgomery. Finn is the dreamiest guy at school, and I have a whole chapter devoted to him so hang tight. Okay, action. Look at me directing!

Finn clears his throat and speaks in his deep southern drawl. “I joined because Coach says this club needs at least one cool person in it.”

Five pairs of eyes turn in Finn’s direction. He turns beet red which only makes him sexier. The others, including Keisha, aren’t quite as amused as I am.

Before a riot can ensue, Leah points at Andy.

“I’m Andy Fennocchio. Rhymes with Pinocchio. I’m here because I love theater. My dad showed me Grease when I was like eight. John Travolta is like his favorite actor and it doesn’t hurt that he’s Italian. I enjoyed all the singing and dancing and I remember thinking, that’s what I wanna do.”

Andy sounds both happy and sad at the same time. He and Nick split last year and truth be told, I don’t think either is over it yet.

“My name is Keisha Alston and I joined because I need a Fine Arts credit.”

She looks over at me.

“I’m Tristan Goolsby and same.”

“Well,” Leah yells, voice echoing throughout the theater, “Welcome to theater! You’re in for a treat this semester. Sheldon and I have had many conversations over the summer.”

I look over at Sheldon and I’m pretty sure I saw him roll his eyes. I look over at Keisha and she intimates via our telepathic bond that she saw it, too.

“Well, we both decided this year we would do a musical.”

“Um,” Finn raises his hand in this really dopey but cute manner, “I don’t know how to sing. I mean I sing in the shower along to the radio but my brothers say I sound like a two goats fuh – I mean screwing in a barn.”

My brow cocks. Finn Montgomery sings in the shower. I must add this detail to my fantasy.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sheldon pipes up. “We’ll make sure each and every one of you, whether you’re a Beyoncé or a Taylor Swift, sounds good on that stage. I have a bit of an idea for a play but I’ll wait to later on before I share.”

“Wait – Taylor Swift can blow,” Nick scoffs.

“Um, sure she can,” Sheldon says avoiding eye contact with Nick.

We gather in small groups and we chill out for the rest of the period. Andy sits with Keisha and I in the back of the theater and he tells us that things between he and Nick didn’t end badly – exactly. Apparently, Andy’s parents were worried about Nick distracting him from schoolwork and stuff and they pressured him to break things off. Andy, of course didn’t want to part ways with Nick and I can’t say that I blame them. Nick Ramirez and Andy Fennocchio are couple goals and I wish to God I could find someone that perfect for me.

After class, I follow Keisha to her car. I’m exhausted. The first day of school usually wears me out. As I buckle myself up I look over at Keisha who is applying yet another later of lip gloss. Side note, if you’re ever kissed on the cheek by Keisha Alston, you better bring something to pry it off with because she leaves like an inch thick of gloss on my face every time she kisses me goodbye.

“So,” I ask as she backs out of her parking space. “Am I Bey or Swifty?”

Keisha looks over at me and smiles. “Is there anything below Taylor?”

I roll my eyes exaggeratedly and I reach for the radio. I’m the only one allowed to touch Keisha’s radio.

“So, do you think you can handle being in the same class as, how did you put it, the dreamiest guy at school?”

“I admit it’s going to be hard,” I say. “And please note my double entendre.”

“You’re disgusting but I think he’s so fine,” Keisha says turning onto my street. “However, this is the part where I remind you he is dating Emily Branson.”

“The snake,” I hiss. “She’s so undeserving of him.”

“Whoa – someone’s jealous,” Keisha says pulling into my driveway.

“Not jealous. I just know that a man like Finn Montgomery doesn’t need a bitch like Emily – and I so mean that in a non-misogynistic way.”

“Well – they’ve been together since Freshman year and they show no signs of breaking up. They’re like the Harry and Megan of Shenandoah High.”

“Puh-leeze,” I blurt. “Do not insult our queen Megan like that. I just have to work my masculine wiles.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, my sex appeal. My mojo. Look, it’s to my experience that every man is gay. It may be a teaspoon of gay or it may be a venti latte of gay. Either way, based on what I’ve read, you can tap into any man’s gay, you just got to know where his entry point is. Again – double–entendre I’m on a roll. Truth be told, I want Finn to find my entry point.”

“Get out my car,” Keisha says. “Now before I throw you out.”

“Awe you know you love me,” I say.

“Regretfully so,” she says. “Call me later, Babe.”

I lean over and kiss her on the cheek. “I always do. P.S., Beverly Hills is on tonight and it looks like Kyle is being a complete bitch again.”

“When is Kyle ever not being a bitch?”

“Touché,” I say. I push open the passenger’s side. “Text me when you get in.”

“I always do,” Keisha says.

I watch her back out of my driveway and I sigh. First day of senior year over – a gazillion more days to go.