In My Head

Drama Freaks ~ Kaden

"This is it." Logan nods at the next door on the left. He seems relieved that we didn't get lost. Sure, this school is huge, but it's not confusing. The layout makes perfect sense.

I follow Logan in. It looks like two classrooms merged into one huge room. The left half of the room is mostly an open space with a random assortment of couches and recliners lining two walls, with another row of couches down the center of the room.

The right half of the room has long tables with chairs, the teacher's desk, and a full size refrigerator. There's even a microwave on the counter next to the fridge. Hand-painted posters cover the walls-old play promotions. This room is more like a hangout place than a classroom.

First period in a class that I don't want to take, in a room with couches . . . This teacher isn't going to like me.

"This room is awesome," Logan says.

I shrug. "I'm gonna fall asleep."

The racket dies down finally. I manage to hear the last ping of the bell. The teacher blows a piece of hair out of her face and comes over. She has an evil-looking excited smile on her face. "Oh, thank god you aren't identical!" she says, giving me a huge grin. "Which one are you?" she asks me.

Which one am I? The dumb jock, the retard, the spaz?

". . . This is Kaden," Logan says once he realizes I'm not answering her.

"Then you're Logan," she says, looking at him. He nods. The clamor in the room builds back up.

"I said be quiet!" she yells, making me jump. A couple students over in the corner keep laughing. "If you don't knock it off, I'm going to share that story with your mother, Tyler!" The laughter escalates, and then dies down. Everyone is smiling except for a white kid, who sits back on his couch and holds his hands up, as if to say that he doesn't care what she tells his mother. "I'm Mrs. Bickersteth. Call me B," she says quietly to us, then she raises her voice and says, "Here are the new guys. Why don't you tell us a little about yourselves?"

"Um, I'm Logan Hastings." He raises his eyebrows at me.

"I'm Kaden."

"We're from Oregon," Logan says.

"They're twins!" Mrs. B. says. Then she turns back to us and says, "What's your favorite part about Drama?"

"Performances," Logan says. "I wanna do shows."

"Awesome," Mrs. B. says. She switches her gaze to me.

"Uh . . ." I shrug, because I hate drama.

"Performing? Reading plays? Improv?" Mrs. B. prompts.

"He helped with the sets at our old school," Logan says.

What? No I didn't.

"Oh, are you the artsy type?" Mrs. B. grins from ear to ear. "We always need people on the set crew."

Wow, that sounds like something I'd actually like to do.

"Why'd you move?" Mrs. B. asks. Logan looks at me.

"Dad's job," I say. My heart thuds inside my chest.

"Oh, what's your dad do?" she asks. I sigh, feeling shaky from blatantly lying to her. I hope she can't tell.

"He's a lawyer," Logan explains so that I don't have to.

"Yo, B!" someone calls out. "Let's play a game with the new guys."

"Yeah, let's do Villains Anonymous!" someone shouts.

"No, Suprize Party!"

"Story Story Die!"

"Shut up!" Mrs. B. shouts. "Learn some manners, people, jeez!" Logan laughs. "Drama freaks, I tell you," she says.

I can barely hear her over the chanting students. Half the class wants to play Story Story Die, and the other half wants to play Suprize Party. She throws her hands up in the air. "Let the new guys choose the game," she shouts over the noise. "Hey, simmer down! Don't make me beat you with my sign!"

I can't help but frown. My stomach swims, and my face burns hot. It was bad enough introducing myself when no one was even listening. But a drama game? Just thinking about it makes me want to puke. I fight the urge to grab my medic alert pendant, which is hidden away under my shirt.

"Hey, can we do World's Worst?" Logan says.

"Excellent game," Mrs. B. says. "Okay, we need two more players." An Asian girl and that white kid stand up. "Alright, Nora, Tyler! Okay, let's do the World's Worst part-time job or the World's Worst thing to say to your boss. Remember you're in school, okay? Keep it appropriate."

The Asian girl named Nora steps forward. "So, like, I know you only hired me for my smokin hot body and cute face, so I think I should get paid to stand around and look pretty." She tilts her head like a ditz.

The other guy, Tyler, steps forward, turns toward Logan, and says, "Here, take this toothbrush and go clean the toilets." He pantomimes like he's handing something to Logan.

"Eeeww!" Mrs. B. says, and a few others clap and laugh.

Tyler backs up, and Logan steps forward. My heart pounds. I have to go next, and I have no idea what to say.

Logan turns toward Tyler and pretends to shake something in his face. "So I cleaned your toilets with this toothbrush, and all I have to say is you can shove it up your-" Logan cuts himself off and glances over at Mrs. B., and the whole room bursts into laughter. "Uh, I mean, shove it in your mouth. Minty fresh."

That almost makes me crack up, not just because he almost swore in front of the whole class, but because of the exaggerated look on his face. Minty fresh, hah!

That Asian girl steps forward and says, "So, that last customer totally hit on me. He called me cute and complimented my lame waitress uniform, so I gave him his food for free. Hope you don't mind, Mr. Boss Guy!" She laughs all ditzy-like. She is incredibly good at acting clueless.

"Here." Tyler holds out something invisible to Logan again. "Go sweep the gravel parking lot. Make it snappy."

Logan pretends to take the broom. "Clean up on isle seven," he says like a sports commentator who is way too excited about a play. I freeze, realizing I'm supposed to go.

Nora steps forward again. Maybe we don't take turns. We just go whenever we have an idea. I start to feel better, since I won't have to participate. Nora opens her mouth in a big O and pantomimes eating a Popsicle.

"Nora!" Mrs. B. interjects. "Go sit down!"

"What?" Nora holds her arms out and stomps off to her couch, and the whole room roars with laughter. This makes Logan and Tyler laugh so hard that neither one of them can talk. Tyler steps forward, but he's doubled over laughing and can't get the words out.

Then out of nowhere, I blurt, "Now that's the suckiest job ever."

"Okay," Mrs. B. shouts over the laughter. "We're done."