(Josie Sayz: This is the dream that I had on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. I find it so amusing that I dream of my characters and not about real life. This is not my worked on/trying-to-write writing style. This is just a little piece that I threw together rather quickly, unedited, unworked on. It is my dream, not an actual story. Oh, and this takes place between Arcturus High stories #16 and #17, I am assuming.)
Caitlyn’s Rehearsal Dream
Chatter echoed through Arcturus High’s main hall, as rehearsals for Mr Flourfield’s history play began. A group of thirty year ten and eleven students congregated on two rows of chairs that had been placed at the front of the hall, facing the empty audience seats. Stood at the front of the group, Mr Flourfield held a script in his right hand, with his left hand behind his back, as he faced his students. “Right,” he projected. Taking a pause, their history teacher waited for the chatter to cease, before continuing. “Let’s take it from the top, but without the script today.” There were a few gasps and muttered murmurs filtered into the air. “You can stay seated for now,” Mr Flourfield told them. “I just want to see that you have learnt your lines. There will be no scripts allowed on performance night, so the sooner you memorise this, the better. Bentley, you’ll start us off,” announced Mr Flourfield, as he strode towards the students’ left, where Bentley was sat on the second row.
Sat on the front row between Emily, on her left, and Darcia, on her right, Caitlyn stared ahead at the two hundred and sixty chairs facing her and the thirteen rows of padded benches that towered towards the ceiling, at the back of the room, like bleachers at a football stadium. ‘In a few weeks’ time, all of those seats will be filled with people staring at us,’ Caitlyn realised. Her eyes darted to a crease in her skirt, as she forced a swallow. Gazing down at her lap, Caitlyn shuddered, as something prodded her left shoulder. Her cheeks flushed a rosy hue, as she turned to see Fabian, sat on the other side of Emily, leaning behind her friend to smile at her.
“Are you okay?” mouthed Fabian, leaning behind Emily. Pinching her lips in, Caitlyn nodded. A smile stretched across Fabian’s face, and he reached out a hand towards her, behind the back of Emily’s chair. Feeling her cheeks blush even brighter, Caitlyn stretched her hand out towards Fabian’s and slipped her fingers into his palm. Fred, who was sat behind Emily, smirked at Fabian.
“Is there something amusing, Mister Fernsby?” asked Mr Flourfield, as he turned on his heels and swept towards Fred, with the tail of his suit jacket billowing out behind him.
“No Sir,” muttered Fred, sinking in his seat.
“Well then, what is your line?” asked Mr Flourfield.
“My line?” Fred repeated, with a frown.
“I know you’re forgetful Mister Fernsby, but at least pay attention,” sighed Mr Flourfield. “Xanthe, your line again, please. Fred, try to pay attention, this time.”
Having shuffled in her seat, Darcia twisted her head over her right shoulder, to keep her back to Mr Flourfield. Her lips parted, as she stared at Fred, entranced. Samantha, who was sat on Darcia’s right, nudged her elbow into the brunette’s side. Twisting her head back to face her friend, Darcia gave Samantha a daggered glare. “Ouch,” she hissed, rubbing her ribs. “What’id you do that for?”
“You’ll get in trouble,” Samantha whispered.
“Humph!” sulked Darcia, folding her arms. As Darcia slouched in her seat, Samantha’s eyes widened, as she spotted Caitlyn and Fabian holding hands behind Emily’s chair. A gasp escaped Samantha, as the blonde tapped a vigorous hand to Darcia’s knee. “What?” hissed Darcia. Curling a hand to her mouth, Samantha pointed towards Caitlyn.
The main entrance door, to the hall, creeped open and Mr Llywelyn stepped inside. “My apologies for the interruption. Mr Flourfield, a word, if you don’t mind,” he said, with a nod.
“Of course,” replied Mr Flourfield, to the deputy head teacher. “I won’t be a moment,” he told his students, as he hurried towards Mr Llywelyn and the two stepped out of the hall.
The second Mr Flourfield disappeared from sight, chatter built among the students. “Fabian, do you two wanna join me and Ariel at the village café quiz night, tonight, after this?” asked Pete, who was sat on Fabian’s left.
“Sure,” he said to Pete, with a shrug. “What d’you say?” Fabian asked Caitlyn, as he spun his head around to face her. “Sound like fun?” Beaming back, Caitlyn nodded.
“Count us in too,” said Fred, hooking his arm around Calli’s shoulder, who was sat on Fred’s left.
“Ooow,” growled Darcia, folding her arms. “Would you look at her?” she huffed to Emily, as she jerked her head towards Caitlyn, sat between them. “Who does she think she it?” Lines wrinkled Emily’s forehead, as she arched her head over her right shoulder, then her left. Seeing Caitlyn and Fabian holding hands behind her and giggling at each other, Emily’s blood boiled. Her hands balled into fists and her jaw clenched.
Leaning forward, around Caitlyn, Emily hissed to Darcia and Samantha, “When the hell did this happen?”
“Everyone knows Fabian’s had a crush on Caitlyn for forever,” Samantha told them.
“No he hasn’t,” Emily snapped. “Who told you that?”
“It’s obvious,” muttered Samantha, with a shrug. “He’ll drop anything to rush to her side and help her.”
“So?” grumbled Emily. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“Have you seen the way he looks at her?” Samantha said, with a dreamy sigh.
“She knows I like him,” Emily grumbled.
“You like a lot of boys,” Samantha reminded her, with a chuckle.
“And now she’s gonna be closer to Fred,” Darcia cried. “It’s not fair,” she sulked, stomping her foot. “I hate her,” Darcia huffed.
“You hate her?” exclaimed Emily. “She’s with the boy I like. I could kill her.”
“One of the boys you like,” Samantha corrected her. “You can’t have Fabian and Tobi and Jay and Tim and Jake. Does that mean no one, but you, can ever like them?”
“Caitlyn doesn’t like boys,” hissed Emily. “She doesn’t get crushes on anyone.”
“And how did they know before us?” huffed Darcia, looking over at Pete, Ariel, Calli and Fred. “I thought we were supposed to be her friends.”
“Exactly – supposed to be, but not anymore,” Emily snarled.
“Oh, sorry Emily,” sang Caitlyn, with a bright smile, as she jumped up from her seat, seeing her friend leaning over to speak to Samantha. “We can swap seats if you like. You sit closer to Samantha then.”
“No,” growled Emily.
“Okay,” muttered Caitlyn. Her smile drained, as her shoulders sank. “I’m sorry.”
“Caitlyn!” Pete called, waving her over. Skipping around her friend, Caitlyn stood between Pete and Ariel.
“Hey Emily, move down one, will ya?” called Ariel, as she leant down the row.
“Come on,” Pete sighed. “Don’t be a spoil sport.” As all of the group’s eyes began to stare at her, Emily grumbled, before shuffling along a seat, as she watched Ariel hand Caitlyn a sticky note.
“Right,” boomed Mr Flourfield’s voice, as the door to the main hall swung open and he strode inside. His eyes widened, as he spotted Emily and Caitlyn had traded places. “I see you are eager to rehearse,” Mr Flourfield beamed at Caitlyn and Fabian. “Let us begin with Prince Edward and Princess Florence’s meet,” decided Mr Flourfield, with a beaming grin. A soft, gentle smile poked into the corner of Fabian’s cheek, as he took the fingers of Caitlyn’s left hand in his right, as he gazed at her. “Yes,” exclaimed Mr Flourfield. “Act it out. Speak with your eyes.”
*
It was the next day. Caitlyn found herself, once again, sat in the main school hall, however this was not an after-school rehearsal, with year eleven. She was sat seven rows back, in the audience section of the hall, at the end of the row, nearest the charcoal-coloured bench seats, adjacent to the courtyard fire escape. Up on the stage were Xanthe and Bentley, acting out their scene, with Mr Flourfield stood in front of them and various members of Caitlyn’s history class dotted around the main hall. Mr Flourfield was using their history lesson as an excuse for the class to rehearse his play. “Louder,” Mr Flourfield told Xanthe. “Caitlyn needs to be able to hear you,” he told her. Caitlyn smiled at Xanthe and waved. Letting out a nervous giggle, Xanthe waved back. Xanthe gave Mr Flourfield a nod, took a deep breath and gave her lines another try.
As Xanthe and Bentley ran over their scene on the centre of the stage, Danny, Derrick W and Tim lingered in the background, acting as villagers one, two and three. While the rehearsal commenced, Darcia noticed Faaria and Annika walking towards Caitlyn. “Urgh, don’t speak to her,” Darcia snarled, who was sat with a group on the charcoal bench seats, at the side of the hall. She scrunched her face up, as she looked towards Caitlyn. “She’s a traitor. She’s pretending to like Fabian, to hurt Emily. Caitlyn doesn’t feel things towards people. She’s only doing it to be popular,” Darcia warned them. Sat beside Darcia, Emily pretended to snivel, as she rubbed her eyes. “If you speak to Caitlyn, you’re standing against Emily. Need I remind you, her father is the Dean of Discipline?” A pleading pout puckered Caitlyn’s brow, as Faaria and Annika looked from Caitlyn to Darcia and back again. Caitlyn’s shoulders sank with defeat, as the girls wandered back to their seats.
‘That’s the third time Darcia’s done this today,’ Caitlyn thought, with a defeated sigh. ‘But I haven’t done anything. I didn’t steal Fabian from Emily. He was never hers to begin with. She doesn’t even speak to him. I’ve been his friend since year seven, and so what if I might like him. I’m allowed to like someone. And Fabian doesn’t like her that way, he told me so before we started hanging out – I made sure to find out; I didn’t want to ruin Emily’s chance, if he did like her. And Emily likes so many other boys. Between her and Darcia, I wouldn’t be allowed to speak to more than three quarters of the male population in years ten and eleven, if I can’t speak to someone they like,’ she told herself, with a sniff. ‘I tried telling them about Fabian yesterday before rehearsal, and during lunch, and in the morning before school, and the day before and the day before that. It’s not my fault they never listen to me. They’re both too interested in their own fantasy lives to pay any attention to mine, and mine’s real.’
As time passed, Caitlyn’s history lesson was over, and it was time for her year group to attend assembly. Sat alone in her seat, Caitlyn lifted her heels to the rim of the seat, pressed her knees into her chest and rested her chin on her knees, as the rest of Mr Flourfield’s students found themselves seats, near the front of the hall. Chatter filtered into the hall, echoing off the high ceiling, as more of Caitlyn’s year group appeared, filling up the chairs, from the front of the hall. Caitlyn sniffed, as she flickered a glance towards the front entrance. Her heart panged, as she spotted Oscar and Derrick M, walking into the hall and heading towards the bench seats, behind her. ‘We have assembly with year eleven,’ Caitlyn realised. ‘I hope I can spot Fabian or Pete. Pete ordered us pizza, when it was Fabian’s birthday a few weeks ago. I wonder if I can order us all pizza later and leave out them three, being as today is my birthday,’ Caitlyn wondered, as she flickered Darcia, Emily and Samantha a sad glance.
A small set of footsteps headed towards Caitlyn. She flickered a glance up to see Phoebe walking towards her, hugging a collection of notebooks to her chest. “You okay?” asked Phoebe, as she stopped before the red head. Caitlyn shrugged.
“I’m okay,” she muttered, sliding her feet to the floor.
“You seem upset,” Phoebe worried, as she stepped past Caitlyn, to sit beside her.
“Careful,” Caitlyn sniffed. “They’ll start rumours about you too, if you sit next to me,” Caitlyn warned Phoebe, as she prodded her head in the direction of Darcia, Emily and Samantha.
“Ignore them,” Phoebe growled. “If they want to be childish, let them.
“Thanks,” Caitlyn sniffed, as she rubbed her eye.
Cuh-clonk, cuh-clonk silenced the hall, as Mr Llywelyn clambered onto the stage, with his walking stick. After he prodded buttons on the music system, his favourite song, ‘Magic Moments’ sang out around the room, as years ten and eleven filled into the hall.
Caitlyn jumped, as a hand pressed into her left shoulder. A gasp escaped her, as she spun her head around. “You okay?” whispered Fabian, appearing behind her, with Pete at his side. Nodding, Caitlyn sniffed.
“Gentlemen,” boomed the ominous voice of Mr Llywelyn, from the front of the stage, through his microphone. Caitlyn, Phoebe and the boys gasped, as they shot their heads in the deputy head teacher’s direction. “No talking. Detention awaits you, if you do not take to your seats.”
“I’ll look after her,” Phoebe told him.
“Thanks,” Fabian whispered back, with a nod, before the boys scarpered, taking their seats on the towering benches at the back of the hall.
*
Following a long and lonely day, Caitlyn found herself in the main hall, for rehearsals for Mr Flourfield’s play, after school. Sat on the corner of the stage, Caitlyn fumbled around in her backpack. ‘Found it,’ she told herself, as her fingers clasped around a smooth, round object. Her eyes flickered towards Darcia, Emily and Samantha’s bags on the opposite end of the stage, to the three girls standing by the charcoal benches, sniggering, back to the shark eye shell in the palm of her hand. ‘I promised Darcia I would find her pet slug a new house,’ Caitlyn told herself, as she rubbed her thumb across the shell’s smooth surface. ‘She may not be my friend right now, but I still want Bertie to have the shell I found for him.’ Sliding herself off the edge of the stage, Caitlyn stiffened her shoulder blades and lowered her head, as she shuffled towards her former friends’ collection of belongings.
As Caitlyn stood in front of the girls’ bags, a smile prodded into the right corner of her cheek, as she spotted Bertie the slug’s miniature house, which stood no more than two of Caitlyn’s hands high, made from ice lolly sticks, with several fake flowers decorating the outside. “Here you are, Bertie,” Caitlyn sang, as she placed the shell beside the slug. “I found you a little travel house. It will keep you warm in the winter and dry when it rains. You can become a snail now,” she told the slug. “I hope you like it,” she whispered, before waving goodbye to the slug and turning back towards her backpack.
“There she is,” sang Fabian, as Caitlyn spotted him, Pete and Ariel stood beside her bag, at the side of the stage. “Here’s the birthday girl,” Fabian cheered, as he swept towards Caitlyn, wrapped his arms around her in an embrace and lifted her from the ground. Caitlyn gave an excited squeal. “Happy birthday Caitlyn,” he beamed, as he placed her back on the ground and kissed the top of her head.
Looking up from his seat a few rows into the audience section of the hall, on the side of the room closest to the main entrance, a smile spread across Mr Flourfield’s face, as he witnessed Fabian’s affectionate action towards his favourite student. A chuckle escaped him, as he averted his eyes and went back to writing notes in the margins of his script.
“Thank you,” Caitlyn giggled, as she pressed her cheek into Fabian’s chest, hugging him back.
“Are you feeling okay now? Has Pheebs been looking after you?” Fabian asked her, as he leant out of their embrace.
“I’m okay now you guys are here,” Caitlyn replied with a smile, as she leapt to Ariel’s side and gave her a hug.
“We’ve been worried about you,” Pete said to Caitlyn, as he tapped a hand to her shoulder.
“Yeah,” added Ariel. “And you shouldn’t be giving the Wicked Witch of The West a present on your birthday, not after the lies she’s been spinning with her cronies,” Ariel warned her. Gripping her right elbow, with her left hand, Caitlyn shrugged, as the right corner of her mouth prodded into her cheek.
“Caitlyn’s just too nice,” Fabian said, as he rested a hand at the hollow of Caitlyn’s back. A smile prodded into the corners of Caitlyn’s cheeks, as she looked up at Fabian and leant against his side.
“We wanted to invite you out to pizza, with us, to celebrate your birthday,” Pete told Caitlyn.
“Hey, I wanted to tell her,” Fabian sulked, as he hooked his hand around Caitlyn’s waist.
“Don’t worry Romeo,” Pete chucked. “You can sweep her off her feet with the gift you bought her,” he told Fabian. “We were going to invite your friends too,” Pete said to Caitlyn.
“But after what we’ve heard, I feel I should be reporting them to Mister Durrant,” Ariel added, with disgust, as she folded her arms. “I’d love to know what Emily’s father would say, if he knew the lies those three have been spreading. As if people actually believe that you’ve joined a cult, have made voodoo dolls out of them and plan to burn them to summon the devil,” Ariel gave a brief laugh, before sending Caitlyn’s former friends a daggered glare. A deflated sigh escaped Caitlyn, as she turned around to see Darcia, Samantha and Emily cackling on the other side of the hall. “People will believe all sorts of rubbish,” Ariel muttered, shaking her head.
From the other side of the room, Darcia, Samantha and Emily watched on, with furrowed brows, as Fabian handed Caitlyn a present. “Ugh,” gagged Emily. “Why is she getting special treatment?”
“If Fabian gave you a present, you’d be happy,” Samantha told her. Caitlyn let out an excited squeal, as she hugged a palm-sized cuddly panda to her chest.
“At least she doesn’t have Fred’s attention,” Darcia said, as she straightened her posture.
“Another present?” Emily hissed, snarling her nose, as they watched Fabian fasten a bracelet around Caitlyn’s wrist. “Why doesn’t anyone buy me presents?” she huffed.
“We did on your birthday, last month,” Samantha reminded her. “Most of NE did too.”
“Not the same,” Emily grumbled.
“You had more of NE at your birthday party than I did at mine,” retorted Darcia.
“And Fabian bought you a present,” Samantha reminded her.
“Fred didn’t come to my party,” sulked Darcia.
“Now Pete and Ariel are giving her presents,” Emily gasped, as Pete and Ariel handed Caitlyn a small gift bag, between them. “I don’t understand. What makes her so special?”
“I’m going to make those Undecimiams know that Caitlyn can’t be trusted,” Darcia growled, as she clenched her fists. “I’ll use Frandadis fruits, if I have to,” she added, as she stormed towards her backpack.
Caitlyn jumped, as a female voice, cleared their throat in a cantankerous manner, behind her. Throwing her head over her shoulder, Caitlyn’s eyes widened and her throat closed up, as she saw Darcia standing before her. Lowering her new notebook, from Ariel and Pete, to rest it on top of her backpack, Caitlyn turned around to face the brunette. Ariel took a step towards Darcia, as Fabian slipped his hand around Caitlyn’s back and Pete gave the red head’s shoulder a squeeze.
“What do you want?” grumbled Ariel, looking Darcia up and down, with folded arms and a suspicious glare.
“Erm, thanks for the shell, Caitlyn,” Darcia muttered, poking at a patch of the carpet, with the toe of her shoe. Her chest trembled under Ariel’s daggered glare.
“That’s okay,” replied Caitlyn, her voice no more than a whisper, as her shoulder blades stiffened, and an icy shudder crept down her spine. She threw Fabian a worried glance and forced a swallow.
“We saw you received some gifts. What’s the special occasion?” Darcia asked Caitlyn.
“We’re celebrating our friend’s birthday,” Pete announced, projecting his voice loud enough to draw Mr Flourfield’s attention. “We care about Caitlyn and want her to feel safe at school.” Rising from his chair, Mr Flourfield paced towards them.
(And then I woke up.)
- Josie -
