Free Drama Queers! by Frank Anthony Polito

she retorted, giving up the ship. “I’ll look desperate.”
    “Well, aren’t you?” I only half joked. “Pretend it’s Sadie Hawkins.”
    Speaking of…
    If we don’t end up doing Grease in the spring, I hope Dell honors our second request, Li’l Abner . My role of choice would be Abner, of course, but I’m sure Rob Berger (and his bod) would look much better in a pair of overalls. I’ll settle for Marry in’ Sam.
    “I’ll think about it,” Audrey concluded.
    “No…You’ll do it.”
    She trailed after me as I headed into her kitchen. “Get back here, Dayton!”
    I picked up the black rotary dial phone from where it hung on the wall since 1960-something. Handing it to Audrey, I dialed Rob Berger’s number, which I totally had memorized: 544-3616.
    She bobbed and weaved, trying to dodge me like a Detroit Piston. “Get the fuck outta here!” Aud howled, having a giggle fit.
    I could tell she totally wanted to ask Rob to be her Homecoming date. She just needed a little encouragement.
    Thru the end of the phone, I could hear the hollow ring…Once, twice, thrice.
    Who the hell ever says thrice?
    “Hello?”
    From across town in Ferndale, Rob picked up. His family lives on Edgeworth, over by Edison Elementary where he went with Shellee “What’s up, Fox?” Findlay.
    “Talk to him,” I hissed, hoping Rob wouldn’t hear me. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was in on anything, even though I totally was.
    “Hello?” Rob said a second time, sounding mildly annoyed. “Anybody there?”
    Audrey thrust the phone in my direction.
    I ducked.
    It hit the papered wall.
    “Now look what you’ve done!” I scolded. By the time I retrieved the receiver from where it plopped in Patches’s litter box, Rob already hung up. “Call him back…Now!”
    “ You call him back!”
    I hesitated for maybe a second, then redialed: 544–3616.
    Rob picked up after half a ring. “Who is this?” he demanded, skipping the customary salutation.
    “Hey, Rob…It’s Brad Dayton.”
    I tried my best to sound nonchalant.
    “Hey, Bradley…What’s up?”
    I love it when he calls me Bradley!
    “Nothing much,” I lied, feeling totally deceitful. “I’m over Audrey’s helping her and Tuesday with their scene for Drama…”
    I started babbling about how Tuesday had a fit and went home, so me and Aud were just hanging out, wondering what he was up to.
    “Just got home from football practice.”
    And are you all hot and sweaty and in need of a sponge bath?
    Then Rob surprised me by saying, “Did you just call here a minute ago and hang up?”
    “Wasn’t me,” I lied again, shooting Miss Wojczek my best look of spite.
    I didn’t know what to say next.
    Hey, Rob…You should totally go to Homecoming with Audrey. Unless you’re a Big Fag. Then you could just skip the dance altogether and fool around with me instead .
    At that moment, Rob said, “I’m glad you called.”
    “Oh, yeah?” I asked, feeling a little light-headed knowing he was happy hearing from me.
    “Is Audrey there with you?”
    I looked over at my accomplice. “She’s standing right here.”
    “Can I talk to her for a sec?” Rob asked, catching me off guard.
    I relinquished the phone.
    Audrey said, “Hello?” She paused a moment, nodded and smiled. “Um…Okay.” Finally, she hung up, reporting, “He’s definitely not a fag.”
    I had a feeling I wasn’t gonna like her response, but I needed an answer. “How do you know?”
    Audrey’s face lit up like the Fisher building. “Rob Berger just asked me to Homecoming.”
    What the fuck?
    To quote Crystal Bernard from High School USA with Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon talking about her boyfriend, Beau Middleton: “I would eat maggots for him.”
    That’s how totally in love with Rob Berger I am.
    Just because Audrey’s a girl , she gets to go to the dance with him, and do God-only-knows-what-else in the backseat of his Pinto afterwards?
    No fucking fair!
    All I can say is…I