Free Stagefright by Carole Wilkinson Page A

them.
    “We could set up the stage like it’s underwater,” Velvet said, “with strips of blue and green material to look like seaweed.”
    Hailie turned to Roula. “Could you do that? You used to be good at textiles when we still had an art program.”
    “Sure.”
    “We’ll need some freaky music,” Drago said.
    Everyone looked over to where Taleb was hanging out with the other members of Toxic Shock. He didn’t like to be seen with the cultural studies students out of class.
    “Then we can get Queen Elizabeth to come on at the end of act one and say the King has died.”
    “What about Richard’s mum?” Roula said. “I’m not in act one at all!”
    “You can come on at the end as well, and bawl that you’ve lost two of your sons,” Drago said. “Act one finito.”
    “That’s not in the play!”
    “Don’t be so picky, Corduroy. No one’s going to know.”
    “What about act two?”
    “Who needs it?”
    Hailie was sitting so close to Peter that their thighs were touching. He ignored her, stretching out his legs and revealing a pair of bright purple socks.
    Uniform rules were strict at Yarrabank. Only Year 12s were allowed to come to school out of uniform. The one thing the school turned a blind eye to were socks. Hardly any of the girls wore white socks and only the daggiest boys wore the regulation grey socks. Hailie and Roula wore socks with flowers, spots, pigs or teddy bears on them. Mei, who had a uniform now, wore socks with random English words on them, like “sexy, hairdo, ankle”. Jesus wore Nike sports socks. Drago liked to wear odd socks. Taleb’s were always plain black. Even Velvet had given up wearing white socks. Her favourites were a pair covered with musical notes.
    The girls’ lacrosse team was doing training laps.
    “Look. It’s the drama queens,” one of them said as they jogged past.
    It wasn’t a flattering name, but none of the cultural studies students minded standing out from the sporting jocks.
    The bell went and everyone got up and dawdled off to their next class. Velvet and Hailie had maths. When they got to the classroom, Mr Axiotis was busily scrawling algebra problems on the blackboard. Hailie sat down and started concentrating. Not on the problems, but on 10F who were straggling past outside the window on their way to French.
    “I’m looking for a new boyfriend.” Hailie studied the passing prospects. “I reckon there are three possibilities.”
    Velvet was also watching 10F or one of them at least. Taleb was in 10F.
    “You’ve got the hots for him, haven’t you?” Hailie said.
    “No, I haven’t. Who?”
    “Taleb. I’ve seen you checking him out when you think no one’s looking. And you go all red when he talks to you.”
    “That’s because he’s always yelling at me for something.”
    “It’s cool.”
    “Not everybody is boy crazy like you, Hailie.”
    “Relax. You don’t have to worry about me going for him. He’s too … intense for me.”
    “I know it’s hard for you to grasp, but I’m not interested in boys. The only relationship I want to have with Taleb is a creative partnership. I want this musical to work.”
    “Yeah, sure.”
    It was easy enough to get Hailie to change the subject. All Velvet had to do was get her to talk about herself.
    “So aren’t you interested in Peter any more?”
    “I can’t wait around forever.”
    “How long has it been?”
    “At least a month.”
    “You still like him though?”
    “I dunno. He’s beautiful, but he doesn’t seem to have any feelings.”
    Velvet nodded. It wasn’t very often that she and Hailie were in agreement.

    “I’ve finished Mei’s song,” Taleb announced at the next cultural studies class.
    “Great,” said Mr MacDonald, who was still trying to get them all to like Mei. “Let’s hear it.”
    “It’s where Lady Margaret curses everyone.”
    Velvet noticed an uncharacteristically nasty glint in Taleb’s eye as he plugged his guitar into a small amp. He