Winter-Spring 2009-2010

“Score!” Ezme’s joyous shouts fill up the small form room we have. She jumps and cheers. And it’s not for the points won on the game Emma and her boyfriend, Caleb, are playing. ‘The Almighty Seer’, Jess, sits nearby typing on a laptop.

Gotta finish before Christmas…

Mr. Beech, patrolling past, sticks his head in and raises his eyebrows at Ezme.

“Can you lot be a bit quieter please, girls and boys.”

He looks tired, with bags under his eyes from obviously not sleeping well, and his hair has lost it’s smartness of a ‘just-combed’ look. He has told us several times before that he was ‘under the impression that men nowadays are not smartly dressed’, but today he was definitely going to be called a hypocrite if he kept on with the dirty jeans and random T-shirt look.

Shona is at a Mathematics Meet so the lack of people in the room gives the atmosphere of an echoing hall.

Gotta finish before Christmas…

We barely move, as though affixed to our places with some invisible binding, perhaps the bindings of time, or natural human disrespect. Whatever it is, it is holding us back.

By contrast, Ezme herself is still as bouncy as a bunny rabbit. She manages to slow down her movements, as though she is a robot who is controlled from above and she can barely take control of her own self, but does not manage to peel herself away from the list on the notice-board and, more importantly, what it contains.

“Haha!” Ezme literally says “Two out of two! And, I’ve got the part that I wanted!”

Put two and two together yourself and you’ll realise that the actress-to-be has got into the local play, as well as the school play. It doesn’t help that Mrs. Merrydew was one of the supervisors choosing the 15 boys and girls from the school to act out parts.

Gotta finish before Christmas… I can do this, even if Miss Berry is just assisting me through email. Gosh, our lives are more twisted than a puzzle-ball or a monkey-tree.

Finally, Emma looks up, and actually acknowledges that she has heard of Ezme’s success.

“So… You’ll be given the script soon?” Anything so that Ezme will be a little quieter for the next few weeks.

“We get a paper version to learn during Christmas. The play is put on less than a month after that…”

“Gee, that’s cutting it a bit short.”

“Don’t blame me… Blame a certain Head of Drama and her lack of preparation…”

Indeed, blame Mrs. Merrydew for Ezme’s sudden rise in ego.

The End

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