Between You & Me (8 page)

You've tried to catch up with me a couple of times today. You've asked what happened this morning but I don't want to talk about it. I'll probably never want to talk about it as long as I live. I didn't feel like eating lunch today so I came straight to the reading room, which is always quiet and empty, to curl up and die. It seems you know me too well. I can see you coming toward me through the square of glass in the door. I look back at my book and only hear the door swing open.

YOU

For a minute there I almost couldn't find you.

I look up from pretending to read and make a face at your sarcasm. You sit down beside me, more cheerful than I feel like being.

YOU

I'm glad I found you. There's something I've been meaning to give you for ages now. It's just never seemed like the right moment recently, with you being …

A bird in the tree outside catches my eye, landing on a branch that bounces under its weight. The shifting leaves intermittently expose the sun, blinding me every few seconds. You've stopped talking and are hunting in your bag.
The bough is still swinging, the sun in my eyes again, and again. The branch settles, a shadow across my face. The bird tilts its head, watching something, which reminds me of Mia, of the way she watches us in class. Now I'm really losing it—everything reminds me of her! I look back to see you frowning at me.

YOU

Phy? You're not listening.

ME

Sorry, I'm distracted. There's a lot going on, that's all.

I look at the book in my lap that I haven't really been reading and for some reason I can't shake the feeling that everything is terrible and I can't see how you're going to make it any better. The breeze shifts the leaves again, more fleeting sun.

ME

Anyway, I was kind of in the middle of something.

YOU

Oh. I just figured that if you were hiding you might need cheering up.

ME

Maybe I was hiding because I didn't want to be found.

Even as I say it I don't mean it how it sounds. And you're right. Mostly if I hide, it's to wait for someone to come and find me so I know that they care. I'm
glad
you're here. You stand up, taking me at my word, and shrug as you turn away.

YOU

Okay. See you later.

The door bangs sharply behind you and I sigh into the pages of my book.

We haven't seen each other for a couple of days. We haven't even spoken since Friday and you didn't wait for me at the gate this morning, so I get the impression you've finally lost your patience with me. We agree there. Feeling depressed about Mia is one thing but not seeing you has made for a crappy weekend. Maybe I should just get over myself and tell you how I feel. I've been too embarrassed but I've
always
told you everything so maybe I can count on you, to help me see sense.
Mia's class is up next so I head into the theater hoping to find you. There you are—leaning forward to chat to Kate in the row in front of you. I head straight over, happy to see you, and settle myself down to wait for you to finish talking. When you finally pause, you look at me—as though I'm interrupting—in a way that I've never seen from you. It throws me. Plus, you're wearing yellow. Never in my life have I seen you wear yellow. I don't see you for a weekend and suddenly you're all sunshine. I hesitate, feeling uncomfortably like you're expecting me to earn this valuable moment of your time.

ME

Hi. Haven't seen you for a few days. Thought we could catch up.

Your expression is mixed.

ME

I've been meaning to talk to you, since …

Angry eyes. Still cross about the reading room. I get it but I persevere.

I could use your advice.

YOU

Yeah?

I swallow. You're not giving me the warmest sharing vibe.

ME

Well … it's complicated.

I look at Kate. She can sense she's in the middle of something here and semi-turns away, biting her lower lip. You smile at her, as if sharing some kind of joke.

YOU

Go ahead, Phy. Tell me your deepest secrets.

On a normal day I would smack you but this isn't playful.
I
came to make peace with
you
, so I rise above it and try not to tell you to
forget it
as that's not how I really feel.

ME

Can I talk to you or not?

You're considering it in an animated way, for Kate's benefit maybe, and I'm getting angry. With the
ultimate
worst timing ever, Tony appears beside me:

TONY

Hey Phyre!

He puts his hand on my shoulder. I notice he looks a bit more put together today and he's wearing a new pair of jeans. I try to smile.

ME

Hey!

Awkward pause.

TONY

I wanted to see if you wanted to go to a movie this weekend … maybe.

Shit.

ME

This weekend? I'm sorry, I can't this weekend but some other time for sure. Thanks though.

I give him a semi-thumbs-up, which then seems silly. I've never been very good at this. He nods, pauses as though he may say something else, and then walks away. You look at me, puzzled.

YOU

Some other time?

ME

Oh, you know I didn't really mean that.

YOU

Why did you say it then?

—!! Everyone else has arrived so there's no chance to ask
What the hell is with you?
I turn my attention to Mia, as usual. She is perched against the front of the stage and seems cheerful, not sad or distracted about her breakup like I thought she still might be. There go my hopes of being her shoulder to cry on, deflating with an audible whistle inside my head. She presses her fingertips together as she talks about her plan for the class.

MIA

Today is about listening.

I spare you a look of irony.

Really listening onstage is essential. We never know what's coming next. We're not exchanging lines, we're responding to a thought with a thought. Remember when you were a kid—didn't you think the aim of sword fighting was to clang your swords together? Really, you aim for the person and they deflect the strike. Acting is the same.

Everything you do is a response, not a preconceived pattern of one, two, one, two. Volunteers?

I have zero intention of volunteering today so I purposely look at the floor.

Phyre!

Yes. That
would
happen. She can tell I want to curl in a ball. I feel almost angry. When I catch her eye, I hope she can tell. To make matters worse, she calls
you
out as my scene partner. You slip off your jacket and we clamber equally reluctantly up on stage, standing side by side as if caught in headlights.

MIA

Contain your enthusiasm! Everyone's going to try this.

She smiles at me, igniting that spark in my chest. I try not to respond, setting my jaw, but despite my anger and despite feeling my heart sink every time I think of our last meeting in the hall, I smile back.

MIA

Can either of you fence?

My eyebrow shoots apprehensively skyward. I needn't shake my head, my expression has it covered.

MIA

Physical activity is a great way to stay in the moment. We'll try an exercise that combines fencing and karate.

Your cheek shifts into a smile that from this angle looks smug. Probably because you are—at the thought of my pinkness and sweating.

MIA

Think of this as a physical conversation.

I'll give you a physical conversation. I want to grab your sunshine-yellow shoulders and give you a shake.

MIA

The aim is to tap the shoulder or hip of the other person, their left side with your right hand, and vice versa. To defend yourself, swing your forearm on the same side up in front of your shoulder or down in front of your hip. Simple, right?

She smiles.

Keep it steady. Remember, you're communicating. Recognize that their action causes your reaction. Take it in turns, so the person who just blocked takes the next tap. Gentle. Go!

You reach out almost instantly for my left shoulder and I swing my forearm into your path. Pretty Karate Kid–esque if you ask me. I can't suppress a smile, and go for your left hip. Your forearm meets mine before I'm even close. We go on like this, your taps getting faster, but I'm equally committed. You swing for my right shoulder—there's sting in your effort.
Gentle!
She said
gentle
! You meet my eyes; you know me well enough to see you're pissing me off. It seems only to fuel the fire and, eyes locked, we're getting more determined. I started angry, this isn't helping. It's just getting more intense and I'm considering trying to concede with my eyes when:

MIA

All right! A nice example!

I relax, rubbing my forearm and knitting my brow at you.

The next step—the same idea with words.

She looks at you.

Let's imagine you're in homeroom. Phy, you're going to come in with a purpose. First—

She beckons me over. I take my time. I still want her to know that I'm angry. When I reach her, she cups her hand around my ear and puts her lips so close I can almost feel them. I hear her swallow.

MIA

Come in with something really important to say. Raise the stakes for yourself.

She straightens up and I return her nod somberly. She holds my gaze for a second and I try to make mine say everything that needs to be said. Then you step up and she whispers something to you. There's still a faint smile on your lips as you take your place onstage.

MIA

So, fill in the story for yourselves. Think about your objective, and watch how a second person's objective can act as an obstacle. When you're ready.

As I go behind the curtain I can hear you setting the stage. Then, after a minute of picturing myself in the homeroom hallway, I walk purposefully into the room and meet your eyes. Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, you look
up at me briefly, not long enough to give the impression you're happy to see me, and then turn back to your book!

ME

Hi. Sorry to come at you all out of the blue like this, but can we talk?

You glance up at me, and then settle your eyes back on the page in front of you.

YOU

I'd love to but I'll catch up with you later.

I pause. This is too familiar. Using reality against me! Not fair. I'd walk right back offstage if I could. I grit my teeth.

ME

It'll only take a minute, I promise …

I slide a chair over to the desk and you push away from it. Surprisingly hurtful. Remembering my purpose, I press on.

ME

Can you listen to me for a second?

YOU

We'll talk, I promise, but I can't right now.

ME

Even for a second? Please, just listen.

I see your eyes flare with something all too real.

YOU

You're asking
me
to listen?

I can see your retaliation pressing to escape, and then:

You are so caught up in your own little world that you have no idea what's going on with the rest of us. Suddenly you want to talk to me, and I'm supposed to jump at the chance? Well, sorry, I can't be ready just because you are. I have my own things to deal with but what would you know!

The words ring painfully true; humiliation fills my chest. The line between this exercise and life is way too blurred. I stare at you. Faltering, I find anger much easier to experience, and hear my defensive words cut through the silence.

ME

Well, then I can't imagine why you would want to be friends with me in the first place!

My voice cracks, making me sound less resilient than I'd hoped. I swallow, and look at the floor.

Mia's voice pulls me from the moment. Not far enough.

MIA

Excellent. Very dynamic! Great commitment.

I look at her and for a second see her as puppet master, finding ways to humiliate me. But she has swept on and is cheerfully calling out the next pair. I shake my head free of stupid thoughts as we return to our seats. This is a side of you I've never seen before. You're finding courage onstage to speak your mind. You glance at me once but not again until the end of class.