production â a musical version of Hamlet , set in Denmark, Kansas, in 1928 â was complicated enough to require a lot of rehearsal. Rehearsal I was supposed to be on time for.
And it was extra frustrating, because I just knew that Sarah Donner would use my tardiness as a reason why I didnât deserve to have the lead role of Felia. She had been presenting arguments like this to the director, Mr. Allan, ever since the cast list went up. Sheâd seemed really upset about losing out on this part â much more so than usual.
I fortified myself with a Diet Coke and headed down to the lower-level classroom where detention was held. I gave my slip to the teacher at the desk and scanned the room for semifriendly or familiar faces, making a mental note to sit, this time, as far away as possible from the arson kid. I spotted Glen Turtell slumped over his desk in the back row, and I slid into the seat next to him.
Iâd been kind-of friends with Turtell since fourth grade when he was the short, fat kid who got beat up every day. Since I had a very firm sense of right and wrong back then, and was a foot taller than everyone else, I defended him. I didnât need to do this the next year, when he shot up and became the biggest kid in the class and subsequently started stealing his former tormentorsâ lunch and money.
We didnât really hang out at all, but we always said hi in the halls and sat together whenever I had detention â because Turtell always had detention. Basically, I knew he had my back, which is always a very nice thing to know about someone.
âHey,â I said, nudging him.
He sat up and blinked at me. Turtell was pretty cute, if you looked at him objectively. But heâd always been like a brother to me. That is, a brother I actually liked, not the Demon Spawn I was related to. He had short brown hair and dark brown eyes, and was a nice six feet with broad shoulders. And though I hadnât seen any of his tattoos, Iâd gotten descriptions of all of them. âHey Mad,â he said. âSup?â
âNot much,â I said, glancing at the clock and beginning the countdown. Since I only had twelve minutes, it seemed futile to go into the hacking saga. âWhat are you in for?â
He scowled down at his desk. âNothing,â he said.
âGlen,â I said, leaning forward on my elbows. âSeriously, hit me. Iâve got eleven-and-a-half minutes.â
âNo, really,â he said. âI didnât do anything. But people have been reporting locker thefts, so of course they blame me.â
âThatâs not fair.â
âTell me about it,â he said. âPlus, on top of that, Shauna and I broke up.â
âOh, Iâm sorry,â I said, trying to make it sound convincing. Since Turtell basically dated the same girl over and over, it was really no surprise it never worked out. But I listened attentively to the story of how Shauna had broken his heart and stolen his Metallica CDs. âGlen,âI said, glancing quickly at the clock â one minute to go â âI think you need to date a different type of girl. A nice girl. One whoâs not going to steal from you. One whoâs going to be there for you. You know what I mean?â
Turtell blinked at me again, then held my gaze. âYeah,â he said softly. âI think I do know what you mean, Mad ââ
âMacDonald?â the teacher at the front of the room called.
âYes,â I said, grabbing my stuff.
âYouâre done,â she said, signing my detention slip.
âThanks,â I said. âTake it easy,â I said to Glen, who for some reason was still staring at me. Then I grabbed my slip from the teacher and raced down to the theater for the Dane rehearsal I was now thirteen minutes late for.
As soon as I walked into the green room to drop my stuff, Ginger Davis raced up to me, eyes wide. Ginger always did