Between You & Me (7 page)

Today is Mia's first scene-study class—and your detention, which we haven't spent a lot of time discussing. The best I could do was a grateful hug as we went our separate ways, but my mind was already here. I push through the theater doors. There's Mia, alone, sitting in the front row. She has her hand on her forehead, hiding her face. She straightens up when she hears me, and smiles. It may be my imagination but she seems sad, her eyes glassy. Here's my chance, to be a cheering presence, a reason for her happiness. I head down the aisle toward her. Behind me, the doors swing open again and Kate appears, followed closely by Elle and Cara, then more people, everyone talking. Mia is up and cheerful, too enthusiastic, overcompensating, and the moment is lost.

We sit on stage in a circle as Mia talks about the play. She's doing her best, holding together, but when she's not talking, her animation falters, and she's lost in thought. She only comes back when she speaks again. Streamlined and studious, dressed in black today, she turns an apple over in her hands, apologizing that she didn't have lunch yet. She bites into it thoughtfully as she asks us what the objectives are for the characters in the play. Seeing her eat feels intimate, personal, and I forget to listen for a minute, watching the ripple of her jaw, the way her chewing pauses when she listens.

When the bell rings for the end of lunch, the rest of the class starts arriving, cutting short this newfound time with Mia. We're stacking the chairs away as I catch sight of you coming through the door. Mia has asked us to make a circle on stage and I signal for you to stand beside me.

ME

How was it?

YOU

Best fun ever.

ME

I knew it! I missed out.

You nod with a consolatory grin.

YOU

Next time!

Mia has stepped down from the stage to consult her planner so I whisk my head around to face you again.

ME

Have you noticed Mia seems down today? She isn't herself. Can you tell?

She's already on the steps, barely giving you time to shrug, and she dives in as soon as she joins the circle.

MIA

Emotion memory.

Hands go up.

BELLA

Evoking personal memories of similar situations to the one your character is in.

MIA

Exactly! Even if we haven't gone through the same thing, we can use something we've experienced to relate to the character. That way you can really explore
what's true for you. Imagine how
you
would react.

She adjusts her collar. In some lights her black top is almost indigo.

Can someone give me an emotion?

EVA

Excitement!

MIA

Good. Excitement. Think about the most excited you've ever been. How did it feel?

Eyes to the floor, I focus on her voice.

MIA

Feel the butterflies in the pit of your stomach, the way they well up and make your throat feel like it will burst. You want to jump up and down, hug someone, pleasure pressing from your chest to the tips of your fingers.

I look across the circle to see if her own thoughts are playing across her face.

You'll each step forward, remembering that specific time, and react with the greatest intensity of excitement that you've ever felt. We'll go around the circle and every ten seconds the next person will also step in. The excitement should build until you've all stepped forward together. Then one by one you'll step out.

I try to conjure up the feeling I get when the lights go down at a movie or when the curtains open at the theater, when I want so much to be up there with the actors. And then there's the excitement I feel when I think about Mia.

MIA

Anyone like to be the first?

Sure! Ideally, but the idea of being that vulnerable is cementing my knees locked. Harmony puts up her hand. Presumably named even as a baby for her tiny aura, she makes no effort to challenge her reputation for being away with the fairies. She's not in touch with reality, everyone says. Perhaps her reality is just really pleasant.

She takes a step forward, freeing an easygoing burst of excitement. Ten seconds later, Elle steps in with energy flying in all directions. It's amazing how the vibe builds. I catch Ryan's eye, a few people to my right, and he's actually
taking it seriously. Then, with my turn approaching, I let the heat of excitement well up in my chest, picture the bright lights, the vibration of music, the thunderous chorus of voices in my head. It all catches in my throat for a second and then I let it go.

We continue around the circle, getting louder and louder, until everyone's in, and the energy is electric. I steal a glance at you. Your excitement is more subdued than most but no less real. I'm surprisingly mesmerized by your face, lightened by this euphoric but silent intensity that flickers as we make eye contact. I want to know what you're remembering—I'll try to remember to ask. The sweep of people stepping out reaches me, the stage getting quieter, and as I step back I have a chance to look at Mia. She's more cheerful than she's been all day, the contagious excitement putting a genuine smile on her face. She waits for complete quiet before she laughs, gives us a pleased nod, and asks for another emotion.

ME

Sad.

She meets my eye. There are other suggestions ringing around the circle.

MIA

Relief! Good.

She rubs her hands together bracingly.

Same thing. Remember a time when you've felt truly relieved—experience exactly how that felt.

Elle starts this time. I've felt relief, too many times to choose from. The time you fell out of the tree on your head and I thought I'd killed you: my heart pounding, panic in my throat, and then how I cried and laughed and squeezed and hit you when you sat up. I never wanted to care that much again and at the same time I wanted to hold on to the feeling forever. I relax abruptly as I realize it's already my turn to step out of the circle. Mia's gaze is concentrated on me when I look over. I smile with a mixture of emotions. She smiles back.

That keeps my spirits lifted for the remainder of class but as we're leaving, I hear Mia compliment Kate on being emotionally present. I try to tune out her words but they find their way in like a frequency that you can't stop yourself from hearing. I'm as present as I can be. How am I supposed to be more present than that? You've started talking now but I don't really hear, leaving my ability to concentrate behind in the room with Mia. I look deafly at your kind expression as we walk away, wishing that I could regain the contentment I used to feel when it was just you and me.

It's the start of study hall. The day is catching up with me. I rest my chin on my forearms on the desk as the room moves around me. I squint to make patterns out of colors and light. Grace is perched in the middle of a circle of gossip girls like the needle of a compass. I catch Mia's name and lift my head.

ME

What's that about Mia?

The circle widens as we become an entire class of iron filings drawn into the magnetic field.

GRACE

I was just saying how Mia and her boyfriend broke up.

A rush of jealousy that someone else knows more about her than I do hurtles through my blood; then I think of her in class today and it makes sense.

ME

How do you know?

Grace relishes her moment of glory.

GRACE

Well, Jen told me that she sat at the table next to them at Sixpence last night. She said they were talking, and then Mia got upset and left during dinner. He stayed a few minutes and then he left too.

The
ooh
s and
aah
s ring out, and then the magnetic field starts to lose strength. Grace continues.

She moved here especially for him. She'll probably leave now. I know I would. Can you imagine …

She keeps going. She has an active imagination but this sounds plausible. Even so, I want to throw something at her head to make her
stop speaking
. Mia's only been here a few weeks but already I can't imagine rooms and hallways without her. She's single?—

There's a flash. I blink and look left to see Ginny taking a photo. I put my hand in front of my face.

ME

Stop it!

GINNY

Relax! It's for the yearbook. Natural pictures are the best and how often are we all together?

ME

Every day.

I'm not excited to see how that one comes out. She does this all year. Find an awkward moment and trust Ginny to be there, snapping pictures to make it worse. Some people love getting in the yearbook. They dive into shots, wrapping their arms around people they barely know just to smirk at the camera.

Voices become murmurs, my thoughts spiraling. The study hall supervisor's chair is still empty. Maybe I could run for it before it's too late. The door opens and …
Mia
, of all people, comes in hugging a stack of files. She's everywhere! Grace sees her and starts whispering to Elle, prompting me for the second time to imagine throwing something at her head. I carefully examine the page of my book instead but the symbols have lost all meaning. I stare at my fingers flicking my pen lid open and closed. Despite my best efforts, she glows in my peripheral vision, like when you look directly at a lightbulb and then everywhere you look you see a spot.

I'm standing at the gate, hands in my pockets, coat buttoned up. You're already inside but I'm hoping to catch a moment with Mia to console her about her breakup. I think I've missed her. How is that possible? I wait a few more seconds, kicking at the sea of red fallen leaves from the maples on either side of the gate. There's no satisfying crunch underfoot, they're damp and soggy. It's stupid to stay and wait but I can't leave just yet … My mind keeps changing the shapes and colors of approaching figures into Mia so that my heart jumps with expectation but when they get closer they're not even similar. I check the time. Great, now I'm late again! This is pointless. I turn, trying not to slip on the leaves—that would be the kicker—and glance over my shoulder one last time as I start toward the front steps.

It's quiet and still. Class has started. School is so different without faces and voices at every turn: deserted, like you're in a dream and you know it's supposed to be school but it doesn't look the same. I think I see you at the English room window. The face disappears and I slip through the door into the hallway. I catch sight of the clock and pick up my
pace, still imagining what I might have said: that she'll be okay, that she should stay? There are footsteps around the corner and somehow I know before I see her that it's Mia. In seconds, she stands before me—here in my head and then in these sudden unexpected places. I smile. She takes a second to register me and then glances up at the hall clock.

MIA

You're running late. Again? Better get to class.

I stand there, my mouth suspended between words and a strange sensation of wanting to cry.
Pull yourself together, Phyre
. She's a teacher, not your friend. Squashing the conspiratorial feeling from when she covered for me last week, I swallow, my cheek twitching with the effort of not crying, and start walking briskly toward class. I hear her footsteps walk the empty hall in the other direction, the silence embarrassing. My face burning, I flinch at letting myself imagine that waiting for her this morning could have been so different. The reminder of her authority follows me into class, late. Everyone stares.