For a moment, Lloyd
couldn’t do much more than watch May head off -- but in a moment of insight,
decided against inaction. It would behoove me to not let this chance
slip away, he thought, stroking his chin.
What sort of information could she
have acquired? I may have quite the
reputation, but still…something about this puts me in a fretful mood.
He started after her,
covering his mouth all the while. Hmmm…it’s possible that she heard about me
in regards to the accident at High Tide Park.
Has word of mouth spread that quickly?
Or could it be that she was there as a witness? Or perhaps…perhaps she caught a glimpse of me
connecting with Miss Walters. His
fingers tightened around his mouth. Circumstantially there’s no telling how long
our session lasted. If Miss May saw us
from the shore, then she’d have no reason to forget me. How would any given person react to seeing two
young adults standing in the water while completely still?
This could be problematic if I let things progress too far. Best to start cutting down my problems while
the chance still remains. He raised
a hand. “Miss May! A moment of your
time, if you would!”
Lloyd broke into a
brisk jog -- and stopped three seconds later.
At that moment, someone came out of the doors on his right. A big guy, decked out in construction gear,
with a face like a Neanderthal…
“Rosco! My arch-nemesis!” Lloyd gasped.
Rosco plodded down the
steps and turned to Lloyd. “Oh. The pointin’ kid again. Your finger still work?”
“Yes, I’ll have you
know that a strict regimen of digital calisthenics has helped me make a full
recovery.” Lloyd shook his head. “But enough pleasantries. Why have you come to this school? Looking to line your pockets with the blood
of the new generation, I presume?”
Rosco nodded and shot
him a dry smirk. “Yeah, that’s it,
kid. I just wrung a whole buncha necks,
and now I’m off to cash my pay check.
You mad?”
“D-dastard! Fiend of the highest caliber! If not for your previous antics, I’d have
thrust my finger at you in earnest by now!”
“Cool off. I was just jokin’ around.” Rosco shot a thumb toward the building. “I’m here doin’ work. The suits needed some room to get smashed, so
me and my boys went to town.”
“So you worked in
tandem with your team to demolish a part of the school,” said Lloyd, deciding
to ignore the woe creeping up him like May’s pocketed ants. “Deciding to sever one of this
establishment’s limbs for your next meal.
Fair enough…but what part of the school did you attack?”
Rosco’s smirk stretched
a bit wider. “I think you’re gonna get a
real kick outta this.”
*
ATTENTION ALL STUDENTS:
Effective immediately, L. Bernstein High School’s drama club has been
dissolved. The cause if this is related
to myriad monetary issues, a continued disinterest in the club’s membership and
performances, and the unfortunate charges and arrest placed upon its
coordinator and sponsor, Mr. Edward Hooke.
All returning members of the club are advised to join clubs elsewhere
throughout the school, as are all incoming freshmen.
To that end, the theater club room, all props, all materials, and all
tools have been collected and liquefied by the school board, and shall remain
off-limits indefinitely.
We apologize for the inconvenience and disappointment we may have caused,
and hope you have a pleasant and delightful school year regardless.
Lloyd fell to his
knees. “The drama club is…is no more?”
he asked, struggling to breathe. He fell
on all fours. “This can’t be. This just cannot
be! Why, of all things, would they
attack the paragon of the arts? What
could they possibly gain from such heartless actions?!”
Rosco stared at the
door, hoping that Lloyd wouldn’t start rubbing his body all over it. The note from the school’s higher-ups had
been pinned to it, and crookedly at that.
Still, they’d managed to cover the door’s window with duct tape, just in
case anyone got the idea to try and peek in.
“Guess the club’s got no love,” he offered, albeit with little sympathy.
“But why? And what could they replace the club with?”
Rosco slid a key into
the door and swung it open. What stood
before Lloyd wasn’t a room anymore. It
was…
“Bricks? You filled the room with BRICKS?!”
“Hey, it ain’t my place
to make a ruckus. I just do what I’m
told.” He shrugged. “Maybe your principal’s got a thing for
bricks.”
“But bricks can’t
act! BRICKS! CAN’T! ACT!”
“Can’t be helped. Kids today...well, I doubt they’re all that
crazy about Romeo and Juliet.”
Lloyd fell back on his
rear and stared at the ceiling, oblivious to the delirious smile inching across
his face. “It was going to be my year,”
he gabbed. “After years of dedicated
service and delightful memories, it was finally my turn to inherit the title of
club president. I would give the club
every bit of my being, and excite audiences near and wide. But to think it would come to this…” He pressed a hand to his forehead and
laughed. “This, more than any other
tale, is a tragedy. A cruel end to a
story that had barely even begun.”
Rosco stared blankly at
Lloyd. For a moment he thought the
prince might let the tears start running -- a thought that lasted only for a
moment. He kept his eyes dry, and locked
on the buzzing light overhead; rather than frown or whimper, he stayed silent
and put on a smile that almost seemed whimsical. Rosco could feel the air sour and grow
weighty around him, but Lloyd hid his anguish well. As expected of a would-be actor.
“Well, I’m outta
here. Gonna go eat a Sloppy Joe.” Rosco headed down the hall, hands in his
pockets. “Later, kid. Try not to get too down; the ladies like a
man who’s all grins.”
“…Duly noted,” said
Lloyd.
“Oh, and don’t get too
attached to the auditorium. Good chance
that that’s gettin’ the brick treatment too.”
“WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?”
Lloyd screamed. But he didn’t get an
answer. Rosco just trudged down the hall
and out the door; only his echo bounced back to him, asking him the exact same
question. “Damned, miserable trick of
the fates…this is nothing less than an injustice. A crime against man and woman alike!” He climbed to his feet. “If I were to stand here in silence and allow
it to progress unimpeded, I’d be no better than the fiends who put this foul
decision in motion! And therefore --!”
He cut his speech
short; someone had chosen to prod him in the shoulder. “Hmmm?
O-oh, it’s you!”
May took a step back
and nodded curtly.
“Ah. I suppose you heard my declaration,
then.” Lloyd folded his arms. “Yes.
In a perfect world, the drama club would have free reign over the
student body. While I cannot claim to be
able to make said world, I can at least do my part. I’ll do all I can to --”
“You’re loud,” May said
flightily. “You’re not good at
‘silence.’”
“E-er…perhaps not. Nevertheless, my claim holds true. I’m a man who does everything in his power to
make his aims a reality; this is but one of many tasks I’ll undertake for my
fellow men.”
“Huh.”
“You’re confused, I
take it?”
May glanced aside. “Wonder if I can find a nice beetle around
here somewhere. They’re good for
fighting. Also, handsome. Better than any human.”
Lloyd opened his mouth
to object, but decided against it; he had plenty of work to do already, and
decoding May’s thought processes would have to wait. “So, Miss May. I take it you know me from somewhere?”
May nodded.
“Something flattering,
I hope.”
She shook her
head. “The beach. I was there.”
“Did you…see anything interesting?”
“Lots of sand,” she
answered, noting a few ants scrambling across her arm. She brushed them into one hand and slid them
into her pocket.
“And that’s it? That’s all you know me from?”
“No.”
“Then --”
May took off her cap
and scratched her hair, sending a few wasps buzzing down the hall (and making
Lloyd leap back a few feet). “Oh,
right. The beach.” She slid her hat back on. “You were using magic. Or something.”
Lloyd swallowed hard;
he’d have to put his inquiry aside and give an explanation. “O-oh, that?
Well, yes, about that…how should I explain it? I’ve only just uncovered it myself, but as I
understand it --”
“Don’t care,” said May,
brushing at her bands (and knocking a worm out of them). “Not important.”
“Not important? You’re certain? Why, just think of the implications!” Lloyd pumped his fists up and down, unable to
restrain his own excitement. “If my theory’s
correct, it’s a means to increase your mood!
Unlocking the mental limits that lie within! Driving you to be all you can be -- and feel
all you can feel! Surely that tickles your fancy!”
“Can it help me find
more bugs?”
“Of course! Well…maybe!
Probably! I certainly hope so!”
“Then do it.” She stared at him with the same callous gaze
-- and then, raised her hands toward him.
“Whatever you did to her, do it to me.”
Lloyd took a step
back. “Now hold on there, Miss May. Much as I would like to use my powers, I
think it’s a little too early to be using them so recklessly. There ARE risks. Until I’ve had enough practice with them, I’d
prefer not to --”
“Then practice on
me.” She stepped forward, hands still
held at the ready. “You don’t practice,
you don’t improve. Don’t improve, don’t
succeed. It’s simple. So do it.”
“My, my. Rather forthright, aren’t we?”
May gave him a blank
look.
The day’s barely begun, yet I already feel exhausted, Lloyd
thought. In spite of that, he stepped
forward and started raising his hands.
“Very well. I suppose I’ll have
to use this power eventually -- and better to master it sooner rather than
later. But when we’re done, I hope to
have a nice, long discussion with you about the matter, and understand the
benefits and repercussions.”
“All you do is
talk. No difference.”
Lloyd winced. “Forthright AND a sharp tongue…” He sighed deeply, and then, with a swell of
courage, seized May’s hands in his own.
And then…
…And then…
…And then…
“Need to warm up?” May
asked.
Lloyd shook his head
rapidly. “It didn’t take nearly this
long last time. Something must be
wrong.” He ran his eyes over her body. “Oh, of course! It must be because of your gloves! If you could take them off for a moment, I’m
sure we’ll be able to proceed.”
May did as asked, and
let them plop to the floor.
“Now then, let’s give
this another try.” Lloyd grabbed her
hands, and then…
…Nothing.
He clutched her hands
tighter. He shook them up and down. He even broke the grip to rub his hands
together and build up heat. But every
time he touched them -- once, twice, three times -- nothing happened. They stood in the same hall, all alone,
without even a hint of the audition room taking root.
After the eighth try,
May broke free and slipped her gloves back on.
“You’re weird. All that work for
this…” She started heading down the
hall. “Serial hand-holder. You’re lamer than I thought.”
“W-wait! Hold on a minute! I can get it to work, I swear! I only need one more chance to…” No use.
By the time he started trotting after her, she’d left the hall. Frustrated, he stared at his hands with
clenched teeth. Impossible…I should be getting better at using these powers, not
worse! How could I have failed to
activate them? Was it only a temporary
ability? Does Miss May have some secret
defense?
His hands started to
tremble. Where did I go wrong?
And then, he
pouted. And I am most certainly not
lame!
"BRICKS! CAN'T! ACT!" That part made me laugh. Oh, Lloyd...
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