Drama Queers! (28 page)

“What can’t you believe?”

Pulling myself away from the all-male peep show and getting back to the matter at hand, I implore my friend.

“Forget it,” Audrey dismissively replies, rifling thru a mess of papers on the top shelf.

“Fine.”

I’m
not
about to beg.

“No skin off my ass.”

She slams the locker door shut and continues on past the office of
The Hazel Parker
, leaving me in her dust. Knowing Jack’s got class in there this coming period, I can’t resist sneaking a peek inside. Sure enough, there he sits hunched over his desk, red correction pencil in hand. Before he has the chance to spot me, I scurry on my way.

“Tell me!”

I catch up to Audrey, dying to know what’s got her so concerned.

Brow furrowed, she gives me a look. “Something must be up.”

“Nothing’s up,” I adamantly insist. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“Think about it…Mr. Star Thespian gives up a shot at making a
movie
. There’s gotta be a good reason.”

Now I’m wondering if Aud suspects something’s going on between me and The Sophomore, even though there isn’t, and yet there totally used to be.

To throw her off the scent, I say, “I already told you…I gotta work.”

“The entire break?”

“Pretty much.”

I can tell she’s not buying my excuse, even though it’s totally not one.

“Big Boy’s or the Gap?”

“Both.”

Six nights at EB’s on top of weekend mornings at the mall, and I’m still barely getting by. There’s no way I can afford to take
any
time off, that’s the God’s honest truth. My plan is to double my hours at the Gap over Winter Break, and if that doesn’t work, I been thinking about either selling my body on 8 Mile or getting a job as a go-go boy at Gold Coast.

“I thought you were quitting the Gap,” Audrey continues with her interrogation.

“So did I.”

“Let me guess…They shriveled up and fell off.”

I realize she’s quoting
Pretty in Pink
, but I don’t get the connection. “What shriveled up and fell off?”

“Your balls.”

I make a you’re-so-funny-I-forgot-to-laugh sound, and head to 3rd hour Government with Mr. McCain—my
least
favorite class of the new semester.

Talk about old school! The man is the epitome of White Southern Baptist, except he looks like a 60-year-old Oompa-Loompa. Only taller and with white hair instead of green. Lemme tell ya, something about his skin is sooo Fake ’n Bake, I’m wondering if he’s hitting the tanning booth in preparation for Spring Break, like most of the girls I’m friends with. I’m sure the guy knows I’m a Total Fag and prays every night I’ll burn in hell.

Whatever…

Four hours later, me and Stacy Gillespie are walking up Hughes, past the Blue Building, on our way back to HPHS. On this early February afternoon, it’s a balmy thirty-three degrees and sunny outside, so we hit House of Beer on 9 Mile and grabbed a pop and some Funyuns. We got Mrs. Carey’s French III Independent Study during 6
^th
hour, ’member?

“What are you doing after class?”

Stacy asks me this, casually waving away the cigarette smoke I’m unintentionally blowing in her face.

“Working on my
Grease
audition with Mr. Fish.”

I decided to sing “Sandy,” even though the stupid play version doesn’t include it. Instead, Danny sings this other song called “Alone at a Drive-In Movie,” which isn’t nearly half as good. I don’t know why the play script is sooo different from the movie. The T-Birds aren’t the T-Birds, they’re the
Burger Palace Boys
. Putzie isn’t Putzie, he’s
Roger
, Miss McGee is called
Miss Lynch
, and there’s no “Hopelessly Devoted to You” or “You’re the One that I Want.”

Lame, huh?

“What part are you trying out for?” Stacy asks, like there’s even a doubt.

I tell her, “Danny…What do you think?”

She stares down at her feet, flats crunching away in the snow as we cross the street. “Oh…”

“Why?” I ask, even though I can totally tell what she’s thinking,

“Nothing…I just never thought of you as much of a John Travolta-type.”

Because I’m gay?

“Why not?”

“I don’t know…Your hair’s red.”

I explain to Stacy how Danny Zuko is a
character
, and just because Vinny Barbarino played him in the movie doesn’t mean that’s the only way he can be portrayed, you know what I mean?

“Well, I heard Joey Palladino is also trying out.”

Great!

It’s bad enough Joey already took over for me in
Faded Flowers
, and gets to make out with my boyfriend-who’s-not-
really-
my-boyfriend, even though I totally want him to be, but now he never will.

Speaking of…

When we sneak back into the building, just as the 3:00 PM bell begins to blare, who do I see waiting for me at my locker?

“What’s up, Ryan?”

I’ll give you a hint…

He’s holding a saxophone case at his side.

“I’m not Ryan anymore, ’member?”

The correct answer would have to be…

“And I wanna know why.”

Richie Tyler
.

“There are no small parts, only small actors.”

‘member that old adage?

Well, here we go again!

The morning after auditions, Mr. Dell’Olio posts the following list on the door outside the auditorium.

GREASE

—CAST—

Perhaps you noticed where
my
name falls?

Fourth one down, after the lead role of Danny Zuko, being played by Joey-fucking-Palladino, who’s never been in a play during his entire three years at HPHS! Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t help think I’m playing Doody because of my Howdy
Doody
hair, you know what I mean?

I guess what pisses me off is…All the Drama Queers know it was
my
idea to do
Grease
in the first place. I been pushing for it since the beginning of the school year, you know what I mean? Well, me and Audrey, who at least got the part she wanted.

Ever since I can remember, I wanted to be Danny. Okay, maybe when I was little I wanted to be Sandy, but
Grease
has always been my favorite musical. Me and Janelle weren’t allowed to see the movie when it was at the show, but our babysitter, Sheryl “Bionic Woman” Killian, had the record album. Sometimes she’d bring it over when she watched us and we’d listen to it with her.

I remember the cover opened up and it had all them pictures from the movie inside, like they were snapshots laid out on a table at The Frosty Palace, along with a pair of salt and pepper shakers, a malt cup with straw, and a napkin holder. I used to look at it for hours, trying to imagine how each scene played out, based on the different photographs.

Me and Janelle would dance around our family room pretending we were Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta performing “Summer Nights.” Most of the time, I played Danny. But every once in a while Janelle would let me be Sandy, since I was shorter, and my voice was higher. And I could dance “You’re the One that I Want” in high heels without falling on my face—unlike her.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine Joey Palladino would audition for
Grease
, let alone steal the role of Danny Zuko out from under me. How could I possibly beat him? He’s Italian, for chris’sakes!

Notice who else’s name is on the cast list, second from the bottom? As far as I knew, Richie wasn’t even auditioning for the show on account of he can’t carry a tune, even with a handle. This explains why Dell cast him as Vince Fontaine, host of
National Bandstand
. ’member, he’s the old guy who judges the dance contest when he’s not roaming around the gymnasium hitting on Marty?

Speaking of…

I just realized Mr. Dell’Olio forgot to include my favorite Pink Lady on the cast list. I don’t know who’s playing the part of Miss Maraschino. (“You know, like in cherry.”) Remind me to find out at our first read-thru this afternoon. I’m also not sure why Dell listed The Sophomore as “Richie” this time around, and not
Rich
. I’d ask Mr. Tyler himself, but he’s currently not speaking to me…I can’t say I blame him.

I suppose I should elaborate on what exactly went down between us last Wednesday after school, huh?

On the last episode of
Life in Hazeltucky
…

Our hero, Bradley Dayton, had just returned to Hillbilly High with his partner-in-crime, Stacy Gillespie, after skipping Mrs. Carey’s French III Independent Study—yet again. Upon arriving at his locker, Mr. Dayton found himself greeted by his soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, Richie “The Sophomore” Tyler.

“So what’s up,
Brad?
”

From the way Richie bit off my name, I could tell he was bound and determined to get an answer outta me as to why I quit
Faded Flowers
. Of all people, he knew how much I been looking forward to filming, so why would I wanna give it up?

“I said I’ll call you later,” I told him, not wanting to have it out in front of Stacy. Or anybody else, for that matter.

“What’s wrong with right now?” Richie wondered, still on the defensive.

In all these months, I never heard his voice sound so harsh. It reminded me of when my mom got mad at me or my sisters over something one of us did. I hated it.

“Now’s not a good time,” I answered calmly.

If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s seeing those poor cheerleader girls screaming at their football player boyfriends (or vice versa) while everybody passes by. This was starting to happen as more and more kids filled the hall, ready to get the hell outta HPHS for the day.

But Richie wouldn’t back off. “It’s good enough as any.”

At that moment, guess who wandered by?

Jack.

Our eyes met for only a second, but he looked totally surprised to see me talking to Richie Tyler, the faggy little 7
^th
grader from Webb Junior High. I couldn’t help but notice Jack’s new Best Friend was nowhere to be found…Wonder what’s up with him and Tom Fulton, anyways?

Richie snapped, “Let’s talk!” drawing me out of my reverie as Jack disappeared.

“I have to meet Mr. Fish,” I explained. “He’s helping me with my
Grease
audition.”

“Fuck your
Grease
audition!”

‘member that scene in
Pretty in Pink
where Molly Ringwald corners Andrew McCarthy in the hall by his locker, demanding to know why all of a sudden he’s been blowing her off? She’s all like, “What about Prom?” and he’s like, “I don’t wanna talk about this right now,” and she’s like, “I said,
What about Prom?
”

Finally, she forces him to say he forgot he already asked somebody else. Thus prompting Molly to let Andrew have it with her famous, “You’re a filthy fucking liar!” line, screaming and jabbing him in the chest while everybody and their brother (and sister) looks on. That’s exactly how I felt right then and there, half expecting The Sophomore to haul off and hit me as a small crowd gathered around us.

Luckily, I still had Stacy to protect me. But not for long.

“Good luck with your voice lesson.”

She bid me farewell and went on her way thru the crowd in search of her own boyfriend, Luis Sánchez. I can’t believe they’re still happily going together after all these months. Why do some people have such lucky love lives?

“Tell me why you dropped out of the movie,” demanded Richie, forging ahead.

Before I could think up an excuse, we were interrupted.

“Boys…Is everything all right?

I turned to see Miss Horchik’s beady brown eyes beaming at me from beneath her Pilgrim’s bonnet. I wasn’t sure how much of our conversation she overheard.

“Everything’s fine,” I insisted, hoping Velma would vamoose.

“Is it?”

The Sophomore stared down at me, hands on hips. The last thing I needed at that moment was the Holy Virgin reminding me to be true to mine ownself. I could totally tell she could tell something was up. But for whatever reason, she chose not to pry.

“Please tell your mother I miss having you in my class…I always enjoyed sending her my Happy Notes.”

From outta the pocket of her long wool coat, Miss Horchik pulled what can only be called a
muff
. She buried her hands deep within its faux-fur and headed out into the cold, the world of Hillbilly High fading to black.

Quickly, I came up with a plan. “What are you doing right now?”

“What’s it look like?” Richie scowled. “Having a tea party…One lump or two?” He raised a fist and shook it in my face.

“I’m gonna cancel my lesson with Fish…We can go somewhere and talk.”

“What’s wrong with right here?” he demanded, causing more heads to turn our direction wondering what the hell was up.

A month or two ago, I would’ve killed to have a conversation like this. A lover’s spat with my
boyfriend
. Now that it was taking place, it totally sucked.

“Don’t do this, okay?” I pleaded. “Please.”

Richie softened. “Fine…I’ll let you drive me home.”

Ten minutes later we pulled out of the parking lot…

“How about some heat?”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I still haven’t got it fixed.”

Another reason I couldn’t take time off work to make a silly movie. I needed money and I needed it
yesterday
.

The entire ride over to Richie’s, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I tried making small talk: “How was your weekend?”

He replied, “It sucked,” not even bothering to ask how my Juilliard audition went. What he did say was: “How come you didn’t call me?”

“When?”

“Friday night.”

“We went to dinner and saw a show.”

I explained all about
Les Miz
, conveniently omitting the part about
Les Miz
Guy.

“What about
after
the show? I was home all evening.”

On the corner of Woodward Heights and John R, I noticed a newly built brick wall, the words ST MARY MAGDALEN printed across in silver, a bed of fresh flowers planted in front.

“When did they put that up?”

I couldn’t recall it being there before I left for New York.

Richie turned his head slightly to take it in, but said nothing.

“It looks nice,” I added, even though I didn’t understand what purpose it served.

“Turn right.”

Richie gave me this order once the light changed from ruby to emerald.

“I know…”

Hand over hand I turned the wheel, allowing it to slide back thru my palms the way I was taught in Driver’s Ed. We drove by Doug’s Delight, Truba Carpet, and Daisy Petal. Past Annie O’s, Hazel Park Food Center, arriving at Burger’s & Kreme on the corner of Brickley.

“Left,” Richie commanded, as if I never been over his house.

“I know…”

Blocking traffic always makes me nervous, you know what I mean? It didn’t help that in my rearview mirror, I noticed a line of irate drivers backed up behind me.

When the moment of opportunity presented itself, Richie wailed, “Go!”

This only made me more nervous, freezing my foot to the brake like that kid in
A Christmas Story’s
tongue to the flagpole.

“Please don’t tell me how to drive,” I requested quietly.

Somebody honked as they pulled around us to the right. If I wasn’t so frazzled, I would’ve totally flipped them off! Taking my time, I completed the left turn on my own terms, waiting till I was good and ready.

“Halfway down the block,” said The Sophomore, again as if I didn’t know where I was heading. “The blue house on the right.”

“I
know
…”

This time I added the subtext of
Do you think I’m stupid?
to my tone.

I wanted to talk things over with him, but I wasn’t gonna sit back and let Richie Tyler treat me like I’m a moron. In fact, thinking about his catty comments the entire way over his house made me wanna drop him off and forget the whole thing.

“Aren’t you coming in?” he asked once we came to a stop, sounding totally snotty.