I want to thank Yuna McHill on this occasion for helping me with the corrections of the translation. Without the help of people like her I could not expand my limits so that my writing reaches you.
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Jeremy Heere felt great admiration and interest for Christine Canigula.

She was literally the only girl in the whole school that made his eyes light up when she walked in front of him, —in a non-heterosexual way, clearly—and that the idea of talking to her caused him nerves but not out of fear of her, but ruining the conversation with some slobber worthy of him.

He saw her for the first time at age thirteen in one of the school plays to which he had to go hide among the multiple teenagers and parents, all so that none of his classmates would find out. Because if at the present time they called him gay and fag for his taste in theater, you couldn't imagine years ago. Had he been discovered by them, he would have preferred to escape to Seattle before showing up at school again just to be mortified. But luckily, with his height moderately superior to the others of his age, the hood of the coat covering his features and the disinterest of the teacher who let him pass, no one even recognized him.

He had to escape from home to attend, which until today he remembered with sadness due to the facts behind his escape and with a touch of joy, because if he had not done so he wouldn't have discovered something that would fascinate him most and he wouldn't have met Christine.

That night his father had promised him that he would take him to the play, not because Jeremy was as interested as he was now, but because he wanted to spend time with his dad anyway. He longed to be like other children and have a father who would take his hand to go for a walk, take him to baseball games, tell him funny stories, minimally scold him when he got a bad grade, and so on. What was he supposed to do?

Going out to see a play simply gave him a lot of emotion. Unfortunately, Paul arrived so tired from work that he, as soon as he set foot in his room, he fell asleep and even Jeremy's shoves and sobs didn't wake him up when the hour of the show approached.

He didn't know if he ran away from home to attend anyhow out of resentment, a rebellion that he wanted his father to notice or whatever. But it didn't matter, in those moments when he entered the school theater with red eyes from crying and a trembling pulse from having run there, nothing mattered more than the fact that he would see that stupid play with or without his father.

There was a lot of noise. The parents of the actors recorded and took pictures, the teenagers with any luck were paying attention and those of his age —probably dragged to the play by their parents—preferred to talk to each other instead of watching. The young Heere was uncomfortable being surrounded by so many people, to the point of believing that it had been a big mistake to go without adult supervision or at least with Michael, but he didn't have time to get out of there, since they had turned off the lights and a teacher began the act with the presentations of the characters.

That year, in particular, they let a kid act as the main one, and I specifically say a kid because normally the theater workshop belonged to the eighth graders. And as he heard from the older woman, her name was Christine Canigula.

That day they would interpret "Little Red Riding Hood", something very strange because usually they opted for the typical play of "Romeo and Juliet" that had a much more extensive story and with more storytelling. He didn't expect anything credible from the main actress, but to his surprise, everything was so genuine that she couldn't take the sight off the red riding hood girl.

From her wardrobe, so according to the era where the story belonged, to the naturalness with which she said her dialogues, even if there were "complicated" words for someone of her age. Jeremy felt as involved in the story as he had never been since he got the picture book at age ten, so the moment when the Wolf—who by the way was a fifteen-year-old boy—made the main character scream in horror, he backed away from the scare until he hit in the back of the seat.

Everything had been so wonderful that as soon as the play finished and the actors took their bows, he should have been the first to get up from the seat to applaud them, especially said black-haired girl who, with all the security and confidence in the world, exaggerated her greetings and threw kisses in the air for the public.

Jeremy came out of that school play with a smile painted on his face, reciting some of Christine's dialogues and gestures for fun and when he finally got home by entering through the window, he could sleep without a lump in his throat or resentment keeping him awake like the buzzing of a mosquito.

That day he discovered how beautiful the theater could be, provoking thousands of emotions in just two or more acts. He was amazed and excited, thinking about how something he thought was foolish showed him that he could change the most depressing feeling to fear, anger or joy. And all that was because of the delivery of the actress of Little Red Riding Hood.

It sounded cruel, but not even Michael soon found out what had happened. At that time, the young Heere found it embarrassing that someone knew about his taste for drama, as most of his classmates—Including Michael—preferred wrestling programs and violent video games. Don't misunderstand him, he liked those things, but the love that woke up in his chest for theater was something new and amazing that he wanted to explode in some way.

He waited for the day when he was fourteen years old because then he would be in the school year where the theater inscriptions were allowed. He craved for that day with all his might, watching Broadway musicals on his computer when he wasn't with Michael, singing the lyrics with the best imitations of the characters he could give, with choreography, dialogues and so on. He had even printed the libretto of one of them just to take advantage of the hours when his father wasn't at home talking and talking to himself in the flesh of the protagonist of the play.

All that was always being alone.

Since he had entered high school, he had discovered that children could be twice as cruel. They had more direct ways and scoundrels to intimidate because the teachers of secondary didn't demonstrate to be more attentive and stricter than those of the primary one. No. There everyone should care for themselves before the others and if you are remarkable in the good sense or you are "popular", you are safe. And the truth was that since he and Michael had been marked as pariahs and buffoons, surviving was complicated, he didn't want to give bullies more reasons to bother them and he wanted to keep Michael away from aggression.

He loved him too much to allow something like that.

Even so, it was frustrating not being able to be himself in school. The atmosphere could become so hostile from one second to the next that even walking down the hall was like screaming for someone to trip him up or stick a sign on his back reading "Kick me."

It wasn't fair either. The 'populars' could be as annoying as they pleased and nobody stopped to tell them anything. He showed up for classes and it was more than enough reason for them to throw paper balls at his head with written insults. In a single year, he filled five and a half sheets of check marks, but he never stopped wondering if it would be as bad to sign up for theater as he wanted to do.

Everything went wrong... Will it be the same this time?

It gave him the creeps to imagine it.

"You feel better now, Jer-bear?" Michael continued to pat him on the back, waking him from the trance in his reassuring voice. Jeremy nodded slightly and squeezed the hug a little before letting go slowly and wiping the rest of the moisture from his eyes with the sleeves of the Cardigan.

"Y-Yes... I'm sorry about that." He murmured sadly. He hated to suffer those attacks and that Michael would carry him to comfort him. God! And so he wanted to impress him? How ridiculous you are, Jeremy Heere. "I think maybe I should not go to the rehearsal." He sighed with regret, giving a start when his partner suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders and screamed in his face.

Holy Hamilton, he almost had a heart attack.

"Oh no! Fucking hell, no!" The young Mell wasn't willing to see his best friend leave one of his favourite things again only because of the school idiots. Even if he had to take him bound and gagged to the rehearsal, he would go, I would enjoy it, I would be happy surrounded by novice actors and end. He needed to see Jeremy happy.

It was very sad that he gave in to the jokes as easily as if the others had him with a rope around his neck.

"Michael, they can mortify both of us for this, and you're not even going to join. Are you aware of that?" It wouldn't surprise him if Michael was attacked just for being his friend, surely his classmates had so much free time that they wanted to spend time with two victims instead of one and every little excuse served to add more.

"Don't be so dramatic, Jeremy. I'm pretty sure Jake and Rich will join too! Guys like them can commit the same idiocies that you do but nobody bothers you just because they will look for an excuse that makes them look great. Maybe they'll go to the rehearsal to flirt with the girls who signed up and others will see them well. Who knows? If so, I don't think they will bother you."

Heere barely frowned without being very convinced. He didn't want something like the one that was repeated that time, he couldn't stand it. The fourteen years were the worst age of his damn life and everything was due to the tempting and stupid idea of joining theater class. That cost him a year full of humiliation and they only forgot him the next year because everyone had been more focused more on debating interesting topics such as equal sex marriage becoming legal on the vastness of the globe. He never found anything more hypocritical than seeing those who humiliated him defending that.

What happened sounded so foolish, but had marked him.

When the inscriptions were allowed for those of his age, he ended up doing it anyway without listening to the side of the reason full of doubts and wrote his name on the list without noticing that some children of his classroom had seen him.

Everything went its course and he attended his first class. It wasn't as dynamic as he had imagined since they had barely started and the teacher was more focused on explaining the history of theatre from ancient Greece, the different types of functions, such as street theater, shadow, drama, comedy, etc, including the use of colours and lights for the environment and emotions. He was a little disappointed that Christine didn't attend because he really wanted to tell her how great she was on stage, but Jeremy enjoyed every second in the classroom, writing down the details in his notebook like he never did in any other class.

The minutes flew and everyone went home, leaving Jeremy alone in the classroom because he had delayed a bit by putting his things in his backpack. He left there hoping to arrive in time to a slumber party he had with Michael, but he found three boys and one girl, that he remembered from his chemistry class. He felt uncomfortable and clung the notebook to his chest he had decided not to save, but to read and review on the way.

He tried to ignore that they were following him as they muttered things to each other and gave him malicious glances, but it was impossible. It was as if those murmurs became a loud noise and as if the distance was cut to suffocate him. What did they want? Did they know he was in those classes? The more he thought about it, the more he sweated and tried to regulate his breathing by looking at the floor.

He stifled a scream feeling that one of them was pulling his backpack to push him against the lockers. The time he took to get up was enough to be cornered in a space not so small. One of them laughed without shame, the smallest boy looked on with some discomfort, the girl looked selfless while chewing gum and making balloons, and the tallest of them only came to intimidate him.

"Look at him, guys. This is the homo phenomenon that was registered to rehearsal. Jer... Jer... Jeremy!" The aforementioned boy bowed his head making the effort to stay so still that it looked like a statue. He supposed that if he didn't react, they would get bored and leave soon.

"The lanky being an actor? Hah! So gay!"

"It's ridiculous. This mute plover head couldn't recite anything without killing the audience out of disgust." Jeremy tried to ignore that comment. Even he admitted that his changes in the timbre of his voice made it sound horrible most of the time. "Can you say any line of your plays, Heere? You can start with a smaller audience." He kept silent, that boy had used a hand to hold his face, squeezing his cheeks and causing him slight pain.

But he didn't say anything. All he did was to look away from where none of them was. The silence was so tense... It could have been ten seconds in which they expected him to say anything, but for him, it felt like ten asphyxiating minutes in which he begged to be let go.

"I see you can't. He must be mute." He scoffed before releasing him. Jeremy almost did think it was all over, but when he felt his notebook being snatched from his hands, he knew it wasn't like that. "But he sure knows how to write. Let's see what kind of fag things they teach him!"

Jeremy completely lost the air for a few seconds, feeling his legs shake with helplessness while the other boy approached the others to look at the notebook while they laughed. He could escape at that precise moment and he would be safe, but the sight before him prevented him. That notebook contained everything. His observations of the class, lists of musicals that he had seen, some dialogues that he had copied, sketches of characters that he liked. Leaving something that put so much effort at the hands of anyone wasn't in his plans.

"T-That is of my class. Please return it to me."

"Oh, you can talk after all. So you're going to recite for us, Heere?"

"I don't want problems. Just... P-Please, give me my notebook." He insisted without wanting to sound neither very fearful nor very challenging. He didn't want to be mocked, but neither did he want to be beaten to death if they listened to him very aggressively.

"What do you want it for? If it's garbage, just like you, Heere. The losers like you and that idiot Mell are just that, scum." The boy shrugged without caring and continued to tear off one of the pages of the notebook and then throw it on the floor. Jeremy watched the frozen leaf fall. "You see it? It's rubbish. We will do you a favour pulling this thi- ...?!"

"MICHAEL IS NOT A SCUMBAG!"

Neither Jeremy himself understood how he could do something as suicidal as launching himself against that bully to tear the notebook out of his hands, but he did. He didn't restrain himself as he should have done and his abruptness made them both fall, the words simply pushed him to the limit of the bearable.

He hated that they spoke ill of Michael. As if it wasn't enough to make fun of him because of the brakes he had started using and the lenses he was wearing, others were still mocking him in his face. Michael didn't deserve it, because unlike him he wasn't the coward who locked himself in his room to recite theater.

He had thrown more than one punch at him as soon as he had the chance, but the boy's companions stopped him before giving the second, and Jeremy just kept moving erratically trying to go back against the boy who was getting off the ground.

"What's your problem, Heere?!"

"Don't talk about Michael like you know him! You don't know him! You don't have the right to talk about him like that, stupid!" Then he stopped. The sting of a slap across his right cheek and the intense pain of a punch in the stomach took away the air and mobility.

"I'm gonna punch your teeth out, you fucking fagot!"

"Thomas, wait! D-Don't you think this is enough?" Then spoke the shortest, still holding him but notoriously tense with the situation.

"If you will not say anything useful, don't talk, Rich." He spat with contempt, though letting out a low laugh as he lifted Jeremy's fallen head up by his hair. He let out a painful whimper. "But I guess it's not worth spending energy on a slobbering kid like this one. I prefer to do this, which is much easier."

At the sound of a torn page, it was more than enough to re-energize the young Heere, who unfortunately with all his strength wasn't able to let go of both boys, while he watched his precious notebook get rid of little by little and the pages scattered messily on the floor.

"Don't! No no no! Let it go! Please! Please!"

The impotence was such that the oppression of his chest released endless tears and screams without meaning of which they just laughed. But Jeremy couldn't hear them, but the noise of the pages tearing as much as his throat and himself.

See the pages splitting in two... Hurt. He put so much love in them that it was as if they were breaking himself. For that reason, he tried not to look, but the sound didn't allow peace.

When they finally released him there wasn't a single leaf attached to the notebook, most were broken, others were loose and wrinkled, and the rest were trampled. The boys met the taller one and laughed nonstop while he shuffled to one of the closest pages where there was a sketch of the lovely Eliza Schuyler, which he pressed against his chest trying not to break into more tears.

But again, the boy snatched it, holding him by the neck of the shirt and directing a despicable look of superiority just to say something almost in a whisper.

"You're pathetic, Heere. Do you really think a loser like you can achieve anything? Don't make me laugh. You and that Mell geek are nobody, just a couple of failures." The freckled boy shrieked, his back crashing against the lockers, his eyes soaked with tears ran into the boy shredding the drawing before turning around and away with the rest. "You guys will never be more than just that, get used to it."

Jeremy didn't stop to hear them mocking or to notice how the shortest one of them looked at him with grief and sadness before leaving with the rest. His eyes were on the paper disaster that was his notebook. Was everything real? Was this really happening? It was very painful to be able to be, but that was it, the blade that trembled between his fingers felt real, the blue strokes of his pen faded with the water of his tears and the blows hurt, but not as much as his chest.

A scream of sadness, pain and frustration left his throat followed by sobs that stole his breath. It was horrible, all his work ripped to shreds, all his joy of that forgotten day, that shattered dream... His confidence trampled ... Because he couldn't do anything. He couldn't save something that mattered to him, he couldn't even defend himself or Michael's name.

Maybe he was a failure who would never accomplish anything in life.

He wanted to swallow the weeping, but he couldn't with the tears and he began to pick up the leaves one by one as if he had all the time in the world. It didn't matter if they were stained, torn or wrinkled, he would write it all over again even if he didn't carry the emotion and passion with which he did it the first time.

After a while, he had all pages but one that was behind him. He turned to take it, but he regretted it when he saw a couple of feet in front of him and hurried back, afraid that one of the boys who had bothered him had returned. However, when he looked up, his surprise didn't diminish.

"Excuse me. You need help?"

Christine Canigula...

His throat dried without being able to say a word, while the tender young woman bent down to pick up the missing page, glancing at it before returning it.

"Are you going to theater classes? I also signed up. Today I couldn't go because I was busy with a job." She commented in a friendly tone. Jeremy couldn't believe it Christine was talking to him! Although... Not in the best of situations. "I'm sorry about your class notes. I can give you mine if you want. I've been going to the theater class for so long that I know this by memory."

Jeremy was trying to articulate a word, but he was so shocked by the aggression and this sudden detail of kindness from the very actress of Little Red Riding Hood in the eighth grade that he could only nod shyly as she handed him sheets neatly written in purple ink.

"Now I must go! My parents are waiting for me. See you next class!"

He just watched her go, trying yet to tell her even if it was a "Thank you" that could never leave her mouth until seconds after she disappeared through the door.

He had to admit, he had been grateful and astonished that Christine offered her help and showed a desire to see him soon, but the reality was clear and visible in its tattered pages.

He would never be like Christine, he didn't even deserve to breathe the same air as her.

With that thought, he kept the notes in his backpack and left school. The last thing he did before leaving was to smile bitterly.

Christine didn't see him in the next class.

Jeremy blinked a couple of times looking at the sides as if someone was stalking. He felt uncomfortable when he remembered that experience and Michael knew it, so he tried to treat the wound delicately with words of encouragement. But was it worth it? He had seen it after that. Did he really think it was a good idea to try again? He didn't trust If fourteen-year-old children were that cruel, he didn't want to live it with sixteen-year-old children.

Besides, what if he ended up making a fool of himself in front of Christine? She seemed to see hope in him that time she helped him. What if he let her down? He preferred to sink into the oblivion of school before the sweet girl who opened his eyes to something new and wonderful saw him with pity or disdain. What if he wasn't as good as her?

"Do you think they won't?" He said as if in an almost inaudible whisper, pretending no one was listening to them, even though they were alone in the corridor and there was no one about two meters away.

"I promise you they will not." He said again, putting his hand on his shoulder for support him. Jeremy felt his chest approached by a cozy warmth and he smiled, that was exactly the effect that Michael had on his person when he gave him that sweet and trusting look. "Besides, you should take advantage of this, friend! It's your chance to get closer to Christine Canigula!"

Although the young Heere didn't have romantic intentions with the aforementioned as his friend still thought, it is true that he wanted to be close to Christine. He didn't feel much pressure about it, because in the miraculous case that she accepted to be his friend and Michael wondered why they didn't get more, he could invent an excuse like "In the end we weren't for each other as I thought" or the most credible of all "She does not like me, only that". He saw it a lot on television in real cases, surely someone believed it, even more considering the kind of person he was.

"I guess." He remained very doubtful about it, but for the moment he didn't want to continue thinking or imagining the future humiliations that would come to this. His eyes burned from crying and his head was killing him, he needed to rest from his paranoia for at least five minutes, although that was less possible than the fire under water, being inside the school.

"Come on, Jeremy. What if we go to lunch in the courtyard? You need some fresh air and get away from so many idiots." Jeremy nodded and followed his friend. "I had some sushi left over and I can get you a drink from the machine. What do you think about that?"

The young Mell smiled with complicit airs, to which his companion responded smiling and raising an eyebrow.

"Don't you think you spoil me too much, Michael?"

"Never enough for the best friend in the whole world." He shrugged without losing his expression. "Besides, I know you would do the same thing if I were up to the hell of being bothered. You will offer your house tonight for the slumber party, it is the least I could do.

Jeremy's smile was no longer an attempt to make Michael believe he was okay, and it became as sincere as that peaceful, happy blue gaze. How could the guy in glasses do that to him? Damn! He adored him so much!

"You are great, Michael."

Michael took advantage of every moment in the yard and the leftover recesses to be near Jeremy. With him talking about video games, movies, music and weekend plans-which weren't different from the usual ones-Jeremy felt that the rest of the school day was getting heavier and shorter. The guy with the headphones didn't have to work so hard to get his attention or get an interesting topic, he knew their tastes so well and shared them, it wasn't that difficult.

He is really sweet.

He smiled to himself with his eyes still on Michael, while he was talking about some tricks he had seen on the internet to pass level 4 of an online game that had him crazy— "Cat Mario" or something like that— and the dark secrets in the stories of the most popular video games of the moment. Jeremy was so absorbed in the environment as he listened to every detail with great interest and wondered if the video game industry really had infiltrated in satanic sects, that it wasn't until they stopped that he noticed that he was in front of the door of the theater.

"What are we doing here?" He muttered in confusion, turning to Michael, who shrugged feigning dementia.

"How "what are we doing here"? The theater schedule is now. I thought you had read it on the poster."

Jeremy put a hand to his face to scrub it over it with a snort, or perhaps the longest complaint in the world. He had completely forgotten that after the last recess after the math class the theater workshop started. If he had remembered, maybe he would have left the establishment with Michael, preferring that rather than going in there again and risking having all the kids in his chemistry class there to drop him a bucket of honey and feathers on him and record it for posterity while they pointed to him as fag.

Well, it was a very exaggerated assumption, but it had been just one of the many scenarios he had imagined if he walked through the door.

"I don't think I can do this, Michael." He muttered in the tone he used to when he gave up. "Better we go to my house to play video games."

"Nothing of that." Decided, shaking his head. "You promised you will do it."

"Did you get drugged while you were in the bathroom, Michael? I never said that, I just said maybe I would. I considered the option and now I discard it."

"For me, that means yes."

"I guess" means "Yes" for you? Poor you in literature classes if that is your verbal and reading comprehension." He rolled his eyes. Michael stopped acting calm as if he had everything under control and made a "Well, you got me" gesture.

"Jeremy, I didn't bring you here to you throw the towel."

"Excuse me "I didn't bring you here"? Did you cajole me with the conspiracies in the videogame industries so you coul drag me to my doom like a mermaid does to a sailor?"

"If you say it like that, it sounds pretty ugly."

"It is, ouch. I was really interested in following the talk. Did you not?" He snapped sarcastically.

It didn't seem funny or comical, or something that was worth a foolish revenge as reconciliation. He liked Michael a lot and everything, but he knew he didn't want to go back and he still had taken him in his distraction. He may not have been furious with him, but a little annoyed.

Michael sighed with resignation. "Jeremy, I know that right now you want to kill me, probably hang me with my headphones... But if I do this it's because I know how much you like this."

"That they mortify me and see me as a weird?"

"Theater." He specified seriously. "I have seen your printed scripts, drawings and... Don't kill me but I checked your internet history and I was surprised that a quarter of it wasn't porn. A-Although that is not important!" He tried to get away a couple of steps to listen to Jeremy's annoying growl, but he didn't shut up. "What I was... I know this is something that makes you happy, Jeremy. And look, I can not assure you that others will not annoy you for doing what you like, however, I don't want you to leave this so easily. You deserve this, and without anyone judging you."

What at first was irritation and annoyance turned to surprise. Jeremy didn't really know what to answer to that and he was feeling partly like at the point of being a bastard for having reacted so badly a while ago. He understood Michael's point and he was touched that he wanted to give him the basic push he needed, because alone... He couldn't start thinking about his decision again.

"I don't want you to be the best actor or have the main role. Right? Just promise me you'll go to the classes. And I'll listen to you when you talk about what you did, what they talked about, you can even tell me in great detail how the lights move and what props they use. I will attend the plays, I will let you practice with me if you want."

"I... I don't understand why you give this so much importance." He wanted to look down, but Michael stopped him by taking a step with that warm smile.

"I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't want to see you happy, Jeremy."

Jeremy's heart almost bounced up to his mouth, feeling that suddenly he was pumping more blood just to dye his cheeks to red and ruin the seriousness of the moment. He hated blushing in the worst moments just because he got nervous, he felt he was misinterpreting a few words from an unconditional friend for those who come from someone who directly asks for an appointment on Friday night. He didn't deserve a boy as well as a friend if he couldn't appreciate him as such, right? Undoubtedly Jeremy Heere was a lousy friend.

Anyway, he wanted to hug Michael and shout at him how much he appreciated his concern, support and patience, but he knew how to hold back when he had to, so he just cleared his throat looking away.

"Jeremy? Are you okay?" He expressed with a choked laugh. It seemed funny, not to say tender when Jeremy couldn't control his blushes over nerves, even though he didn't know what caused him beyond an involuntary reaction when people invaded his personal space.

"Y-Yes, ignore that." He asked, taking a breath and pulling away a bit just to try to get his cheeks back to their natural colour. Sometimes the word "friend" hurt, it was like swallowing bitter medicine to lower your emotion to normal levels. He needed it in spite of everything. "Do you really think I can do it, Michael?"

"I don't think, I know." He patted her on the back and pointed to the door. "Only you must enter there and everything will happen naturally."

"Holy Nintendo, you're so good at arguing that you could convince me to wear a duck costume the rest of the week." He joked, although deep down he was sure that if he wanted to Michael could get that achievement. The very wretched had a gift with words.

"Don't give me ideas." He continued the joke, wondering how funny something would be like that, and Jeremy returned a smile before turning around the door.

He swallowed dry, letting himself be overcome by fear. His will again faltered when he had to make decisions. He didn't even know why Michael bothered to give him motivational talks and encouragement if, in the end, he was still the same elusive and fearful rabbit.

"And if better start the next class? I guess evolution's not for everyone, Michael."

"Oh, Jeremy." Michael approached pretending to be sorry, and the worst thing is that Jeremy believed him. "You don't have to do this. Of course, I'll mock you forever if you don't."

The young Heere gave one last annoyed look to his friend before sighing resignedly, and that the latter was moving away making gestures to encourage him and saying things without sound. According to what he read on his lips, before disappearing down the hall, he had said: "You can, Jer-Bear." To which the freckled one couldn't contain a slightly amused smile.

Michael could sometimes be so peculiar... Maybe that's why he was so attracted to him.

Ok... Don't be a sissy now, Jeremy. Come on, come on, go on, go!

He inhaled exaggeratedly as the nervous moron he was and opened the door. Upon entering, he was helpless before any verbal attack or bucket of water that fell on his head, but he didn't meet the popular mocking him or a trick, only the empty theater if not for his own presence and someone else who didn't he expected to see so soon.

"Yo..." He made a very awkward attempt to say hello.

Then she lifted her gaze from his script perched on his crossed legs and saw him, while she smiling amicably and tucking a dark lock behind her ear. Christine Canigula, as radiant as he remembered her.

"Yo!" She waved back momentarily, returning to her script.

Jeremy played with his hands without looking away, felt that he was sweating from nerves. He wanted to say something, but his mind didn't cooperate at all. What could he say to start a conversation? Something that was interesting, something that didn't make him look like an idiot.

"Is this where you meet for the play?"

Birdseed brain would tell him. How could he not notice it? Because of the stage in front of them? Because the many seats intended for the public? The fact that the girl in front of him read a script or that his best friend has made it clear that this was the place? The same place he met at fourteen? Oh, Jeremy Heere, you're really stupid! Newton and Einstein writhe in their grave before your existence!

"Nope. This is where you meet for the swim team." He would admit, had he had to answer such a stupid question, he would have answered sarcastically, too.

And being honest, he didn't know if he was more stupid for the question, or because he backed toward the door as if he had taken it seriously. He didn't, but he felt that it was the perfect opportunity to escape so cowardly as only he knew how to do and save himself the shame, but nevertheless, Christine noticed that and stopped him as soon as he turned around.

"I'm joking!" She hurried to tell him, smiling back at him confidently.

Jeremy just managed to laugh nervously, not to mention that he almost exaggerated it to make it look real. He was sure that Christine sensed that he was about to have a heart attack but tried to hide it anyway. "Well...! I'm Jeremy! Jeremy Heere." He emphasized his name, hoping she would remember him. "Uh... You know who I am, right?"

Christine nodded doubtfully. "Yes, you just introduced yourself." That disappointed Jeremy, and in the process, it made him feel like an idiot. How did he expect Christine to remember after two years? They had not even introduced up at that time. He was really an imbecile to believe that such an extroverted girl would remember him among so many other faces. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah..." He brazenly said, trying to overcome that disappointment as if it had never happened. "Why?"

"You seem nervous." She observed, with a slightly worried gesture. That worry you have when you see a stranger who needs help on the street.

"A-Ah? N-no I always... sweat this much." If he couldn't think of something better to say and chose to let Christine know about your glandular problems, it's because he was really panicking. But she didn't make a gesture of disgust, instead, she smiled like a naughty girl.

"Oh, I get it." The young Canigula laughed mischievously, while Jeremy didn't understand the reason for that sudden malice. "You are a virgin!"

What Jeremy swore at that precise moment is that he would need to call 911 to attend to him if he fainted right away in the face of such a shameful and obvious truth.

"First play rehearsal!"

But then he changed his mind and kept breathing. He would remember not to malpractice incomplete sentences whenever he had the opportunity to even allow his neurons to make the synapse.

"Oh! You think I'm nervous about play rehearsal!" "Nervous" wasn't the right word to describe him, rather he was scared to death and was only acting like a moron because he was talking to one of the people he admired. So who wouldn't be nervous? He tried to manipulate every action of his own so as not to make a bad impression, but he was getting the idea that he was already doing it. With that in mind, he couldn't act normal.

The young girl laughed next to him. "Yeah! Why else would you be shaking... a lot?" She paused her speech at a certain moment as if worrying about Jeremy's condition, but he reacted erratically when he noticed that she wasn't wrong and stopped one of his hands with the other. Shit, he was shaking, anyone would say he looked like a walking seaquake.

Seaquake and not earthquake because he was sweating a lot to only take into account the second option.

"Uh... Yeah, I'm totally freaked." He sighed, being totally honest, as he took a seat next to Christine. She smiled sympathetically.

"It's okay. I'm a little jealous actually. You never forget your first play rehearsal." She turned a little toward Jeremy. "Coming here is the highlight..."

"Of your day?" He asked with genuine curiosity.

"Yeah right... Of my life! I love play rehearsal! Because it's the best! Because it is fun"

Jeremy nodded in amazement in his gaze. He didn't remember that Christine was so energetic, but he didn't dislike or bother her attitude, in fact, her naturalness to express herself without shame as if they were close and didn't fear to seem so euphoric made him feel comfortable and enter more confidence.

He smiled to himself checking in his backpack to look for the notes, but as soon as he finished taking them out, Christine surprised him by exclaiming again.

"Oh! I love play rehearsal and I get depressed as soon as it's done!"

"O-Oh, that is..."

"But not depressed as in, like, "kill yourself" depressed. No, I'm not into self-harm! Dude, I swear, here, check my arm!" She hurried to explain pointing to her right forearm. And without giving young Heere time to make it clear that he had not believed such a thing, she spoke again. "See, I just used the word to emphasize a point to show the passion that I've got. I am passionate a lot!"

Jeremy didn't know if he should speak yet, receiving a few friendly strokes of Christine's arm while he was asking himself "Is this really the girl I admire?" He processed it slowly only to come to a conclusion... That Christine was amazing!

"And I have mad gigantic feelings! Rad and frantic feelings about most everything! Like gun control, like spring. Like if I'm living up to all I'm meant to be. I also have a touch of ADD!"

"Do you have ADD?" He blinked, confused and impressed. That little curiosity wasn't waiting for him, although it wasn't worrisome, just something unexpected. He didn't think Christine was going to say something like that out of nothing. "You must be a demigod then." A part of him felt stupid for having made such a comment referencing a book that she probably didn't know, but her laughter made it clear that it wasn't like that.

"Cut my hair and call me Percy Jackson. I was diagnosed at age six, but I'm getting along pretty well with the classes and... Wait." She broke off, losing her gaze in the emptiness. "Where was I? Oh, right! I love play rehearsal!"

"Y-Yes, you were telling me that." He held back a wider smile. He couldn't help but feel very touched seeing her cross her legs and move like a little girl while talking passionately about the theater. He liked it, he felt understood, even though he would never express himself as enthusiastically as she did.

"It's just... I love play rehearsal cuz you are equipped with directions and text. Life is easy in rehearsal you follow a script so you know what comes next." She explained, at the time Jeremy was still nodding and listening intently. "Anyhoo, the point that I'm getting to is sometimes life can't work out in the way it works out in the play! Like the only time I get to be the center of attention." She continued, getting up in her seat to do a couple of laps and make the flights of her skirt move. Jeremy might have worried that he would fall, but he was more interested in what she told him. "Is when I'm Juliet or Blanche Dubois and can I mention that was really one of my best roles, did you see that? I was incredibly commanding, I think. It made me feel like there just aren't strong roles for women in theater these days, particularly high school theater, do you find that? Because I totally find that."

"Yes, I... I think so too! You were great in Romeo and Juliet. T-The others were good and that but... I don't know, even though Romeo was the one who was more on stage I felt that something was missing, feeling. And you really seemed to be involved in the character, Christine. Much more than the rest. And when they made the balcony scene...!" He stopped. He didn't know how to control himself, he felt that he was suffocating the young Canigula, although she had an enlighted look when she heard him. "I-I mean... It was... Really amazing."

"Woah." She only murmured that, smiling broadly. "I didn't expect that. Did you really like it?"

"Yes." He answered in a low voice. "I really liked it."

"How good it is to find someone who thinks like me, Jeremy! Because... No matter how hard I try! It's impossible to narrow down the many reasons why-y-y-y...!" She ran from chair to chair with such agility but so fast that poor Heere almost had a heart attack when he saw her fall from one of them, only to land intact. "I love play rehearsal! I happiness cry whenever it starts!"

I almost cried from fright a few moments ago, uh...

"It's just so universal getting to try playing so many parts! Most humans do one thing for all of their lives and... The thought of that gives me hives."

This time, Jeremy couldn't agree at all. Although it may sound discouraging, he felt that doing the same thing was all easier. Why start from scratch with fear of making mistakes when you are already used to something? That is, who wants things to be hard? At least, the routine didn't frighten.

"I've got so many interests I want to pursue" She sighed dreamily, leaving his companion with the doubt of what she was fantasizing about. " And why my telling this to you?" Had she not used a tone that suggested curiosity and that she herself would answer, he would be more than convinced that he would want to disappear right there and not leave a trace. "Guess there's a part of me that wants to!"

"Really?" He questioned between hope at the idea that Christine was telling him something she had never talked to anyone before and sorry because he was a loser like him who probably didn't deserve to know so much about someone so incredible so fast.

"And there's also a part of me that wants to do this!"

Well... It could be that seeing her move as if possessed by the devil and screaming madly, followed by a very crazy and strange dance, wasn't as inspiring as his vision could offer, but somehow Jeremy wasn't scared by that. He just laughed, let out a low, tender laugh covering his mouth to not make it stronger. Was it strange that Christine reminded him of Michael a little in a way? He should tell him later to give him his opinion.

"So I did it!" She declared triumphantly, as if she had walked a mile in a marathon and arrived first, or as if she had knocked down the best fighters in a league in three rounds. "Back to play rehearsal... My brain is like "bzzzz", my heart is like "wow"." There was something in the way she rested his hands on her chest and the smile she outlined. Love, appreciation, maybe even a real love for what one did, that satisfaction for your unparalleled work. Something that, perhaps many wouldn't have noticed, made Jeremy see her impressed, feeling a little envious. "Because we're here at play rehearsal and it's starting... We're starting... It's starting... Soon!"

And without further ado, the euphoric girl with dark hair dropped into her seat, returning to see her script and highlighting some sentences as if she had never moved from her place or spoken.

Jeremy's mind was a wild sea of thoughts, all trying to stand out more than the other. He was so astonished by Christine's expressive and courageous actions that he had neither the words nor the guts to tell her how much admiration he was feeling at that moment, and the thousands of questions he wanted to ask her.

It was even more than he could have imagined, it was much better than his more distant fantasies of him making conversation with the star of each school show that left him speechless. And that not only pleased him greatly because of how friendly and sweet she was, but also came to cause certain jealousy and sadness.

He wanted to be like that. Feeling free to say what he thought, to speak so fluently and without pause for fear of what they would think of him or to expect ridicule for it, to stop feeling drowned when people surrounded him in the corridors and to feel that they watched him like foxes see a rabbit. Christine was what he would never be; brave and sure of herself.

However... He was happy just to be exchanging words with her. He thought right there to give himself hope, passing his hand over the cover of his script, that maybe, and just maybe, he would have the opportunity to be a friend of his or to impress her in some way with his performance.

Dreaming costs nothing, huh? Although, lowering the head of the clouds at once, Jeremy realized something very strange, and that is that the theater was still empty and there was no one apart from the two of them.

"So where's everyone else?"

"We've been slipping in membership lately. I guess it's just the two of us." She sighed exhaustedly.

That didn't sound logical, at least not for him. He remembered seeing the names of Jenna, Chloe and Brooke in the inscriptions, even a couple of girls and boys. It wasn't possible that only the two of them presented themselves unless the rest were abducted by the aliens. What kind of school play can be done with only two people? Anyone who had common sense would agree that they could only interpret "The lying shepherd" if that were the case, which was... Disappointing for his first day.

Maybe they'll cancel the play because of this.

"WOO-HOO! LET'S START THIS PARTY!"

Or maybe the others are unpunctual.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he recognized the voice of Rich Goranski, Jake Dillinger and the rest of the crowd bustling at the entrance to the seats. Of course, how could he not have imagined it? Michael had warned him that the boys would be able to sign up in the theater classes for the pretty girls who would go, and he wasn't wrong. Between Christine, Jenna, Brooke, Chloe, and a couple he didn't know, there were six pretty girls with almost the same number or more of men, discounting him of course.

It angered him that they only came for that and no real interest in the play, but he didn't want to judge everyone so harshly, and he let his negative thoughts pass, trying to focus on what was important; the class, the teacher, and his new partner. He would fulfill what he promised Michael and enjoy this. Nothing would stop him.

"Oh thank God, the popular students have arrived."

Well, nothing would stop him apart from that comment that dislodged him a lot from the theater teacher, who now noticed that he coincidentally looked like his father because of the baldness and body texture.

"Hellooooo, everyone! My name is Mr Reyes. You may recognize me from Drama Class, or my full-time job, at the Hobby Lobby." A couple of students applauded him, but Jeremy wasn't able to do it and just squeezed his hands together between his knees paying attention. "Thank you. I've been dreaming of the day I get to stage William Shakespeare's classic "A Midsummer Night's Dream"."

"Yes!" Christine shouted, radiating emotion.

And how not to do it? It was the famous theatrical comedy about the adventures of Theseus and his wife Athens, accompanied by four lovers and six amateur actors controlled by fairies. As a lover of theater for three years, it would be inconceivable and unprecedented not to know such a piece of art and not have searched desperately for the script on the internet to recite dialogues of the male characters every time he was alone at home.

A smile was unconsciously drawn on his face. He couldn't believe that such an opportunity presented itself to him so quickly. It was too good to be true!

"And today, that dream dies."

In short, too good to be true.

"What?!" Both Christine and Jeremy questioned at the same time, although the latter jumped from his seat as a reflection, returning to sit instantly to avoid making a show. Luckily nobody laughed or made a comment about it, maybe because the teacher was present.

"And is reborn! Just... slightly mutated." The professor said, which didn't convince or calm both teenagers. "The school has informed me that, unless I increase our popularity, our funds will be diverted... To the Frisbee Golf Team." Jeremy huffed under his breath. It was so typical that money moved the world that he was no longer surprised. "Which is why our production will be set, not in a pastoral forest, but a postapocalyptic future. Instead of frolicking with fairies, there will be fleeing from zombies."

He didn't believe what he was hearing, but still, he remained silent and bit his tongue to not insult. Is this serious? Zombies? Post-apocalyptic future? It sounded like a shameless modification to attract the young audience, something that he saw very often in remakes of old series or those of today even. This was practically desecrating an excellent work! Was that man really going to change everything just like that?! He understood the economic situation but... It wasn't that bad! He was grateful that Christine had risen to say something because he didn't dare to make a scandal of huge proportions with popular people present.

"Wait! Don't you care about Shakespeare?" She screamed desperately, which Mr Reyes didn't seem to take very seriously.

"The man is dead. Let it go." He answered without further ado, giving her a short hug of vague comfort to the young woman, and Jeremy could only frown. "We will now take a five-minute break so I can eat a Hot Pocket."

The whole class dissolved without making a comment about it, some went to look for something at the vending machines, others to talk further away from the seats, and as for him... Well, he was outraged and frustrated in his site, wanting to throw his script to hell. There wasn't much more to do than accept the changes of the play and maybe swallow the pride that still had left to participate in it, but that didn't take away the anger that ventured as he tore at the front page.

He thought to talk to Christine about how unnecessary this was, but she had gone to try to convince Mr Reyes, who soon lost interest and retreated to find the holy Hot Pocket, leaving her mumbling some things he didn't understand. Poor Christine... Surely she was disappointed too.

He was going to approach her to pat her back and give her some understanding, but before he could get up for that, Jake Dillinger went ahead and approached Christine with intentions he didn't know.

"Hey. You were in that play last year." He began the conversation with a moderately nervous tone, something that wasn't very normal to the freckles one, but he captured perfectly like the ashamed gesture of Christine when she threw a lock of hair back and went in search of her script.

"You mean Romeo & Juliet?"

"Yeah, you were that girl who died!"

"You mean Juliet?" She commented with the same patient voice, to which Jake made a euphoric gesture.

"Yeah! That was depressing."

"Thanks..." She just responded to him, placing her backpack on her back. Probably to take advantage of the five minutes of rest outside.

"But... You were good. I'm Jake."

Oh, could the others present feel that tension in the air? Because Jeremy felt it within inches of the pair, and he was already having slight suspicions about what was happening in front of him. Could it be? He didn't know, but he wanted to find out and listen to the talk until the end as a gossiper of Jenna Rolan's levels.

"I know." She said after a somewhat uncomfortable silence.

"Cool." Christine was about to leave, but then Jake stopped her talking again. "Can I say something stupid? When I saw you die in the play last year... That was like the saddest I'd felt in a long time. It was like everything in my life, all the pressure I feel to be the best, at everything, all the time... Suddenly felt so small. And then, when you got up at the end for your victory dance..."

Victory dance? Is this guy serious?

He had to restrain his laughter so as not to ruin the conversation and not be discovered listening.

"Bow, it's called a bow."

"Right! I remember thinking, "I'm glad that girl's not dead...before I ever got the chance to know her"."

And there was the young Heere holding the air to not let go right there to laugh like a misplaced. And no, it had nothing to do with the stupid and misleading phrase that Jake released at first, but rather because he couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Jake Dillinger was trying to woo Christine Canigula, and he was also making it look cute? It was almost unreal to see the guy who bothered him almost always with that almost submissive and tender expression on his face for a girl, though... It was lovely... Too bad the guy looked like an idiot most of the time.

"Stupid, right?"

To hell with everything, for Jeremy this was adorable, so much so that he had forgotten how outraged he was that Jake and Rich were only in the theater for the girls. And not only that, he felt he was watching a soap opera, because when Jake made a gesture to leave, Christine stopped him.

"That's... Not stupid at all."

"Cool. Hey, a bunch of us are going out after practice today. You should join." Christine was going to respond, but before that Jake took her hand and tried to imitate the dramatic tone of the work, sweetly... But extremely badly acted. "Parting is such sweet..."

Christine was frozen for a few seconds waiting for Jake to end the dialogue until finally, she spoke knowing that he didn't remember how the script was going. "Sorrow?"

"Whatever." And finally Jake left, leaving Christine Canigula watching the road where he retired, sighing.

Did he really see how Jake and Christine made eyes each other? In his life, he never believed that something like this would happen. That is, the two of them together? He didn't discriminate and he didn't judge either. Jake might seem stupid for him, but that was because he was a loser who always fell for his tricks and teasing. Christine could surely see his sweetest side, though he found it hard to believe that existed.

He couldn't say that he was jealous because he didn't like the young Canigula, although it did bother him that Jake took almost half of the rest time Jeremy planned to use to talk to her. Anyway, that was normal, but the point is that she was already free and if he wasn't wrong and Christine liked him after their talk a while ago, they could talk for a while longer. With that in mind, he approached her.

He was dying to ask for advice to act before people for the first time.

"Christine? You know? I know that Mr Reyes will change the play, but I would like to know if you can teach me how to express the dialogues of Theseus and..."

"Uh? I'm sorry, Jeremy. Did you say something?"

Jeremy remained static in place, holding the script against his chest. Seriously Christine had not heard anything from the prayer? Was he so insignificant? No, not Jeremy. Don't fall into insecurity now If everything was going great! However, he didn't know the reason, but that innocent question hurt him.

"A-Ah... I-I just wanted to know if you..."

But he didn't finish speaking, and it wasn't he who interrupted himself this time, but Jake peering out the door. "Christine! Are you coming? Rich hit the vending machine so hard that many things are coming out."

Christine didn't answer quickly, she stared at Jeremy as if she was apologizing for something. He noticed, and didn't wait for her to apologize for leaving or rejecting Jake's offer, he didn't want pity.

"No, I... Don't worry, go with him." He hurried to say before she opened her mouth, receiving in return a grateful smile and a short farewell before he saw her leave and leave the theater with an excited slam of the door. He heard her laughter moving away.

He sighed dropping into his seat and continued to continue reading the script alone. He wasn't upset, okay? Not at all, he was just a teenager trying to socialize as he was supposed to be because he was Jeremy Heere. It didn't matter, he should not do it, nobody cared. He wished he didn't care.

It would have been nice to say that it was just a bad time and after the break ended Christine and he continued talking while Mr Reyes started the class, but it wasn't like that. As soon as she returned before the rest and prepared to sit next to him, Jake and the others called her to join them, she didn't hesitate a second and went to sit where they were, leaving Jeremy alone in the front seats.

He pursed his lips trying to concentrate on Mr Reyes and his explanation of what he had planned for the changes in the play, but the laughter and whispering voices of the other students just a row of seats behind him made him lose himself. They were looking at him? Would anyone have seen how embarrassing it was to be humiliated by the successful Jake Dillinger? Why suddenly their voices seemed to grow louder and boisterous? He had not forgotten to breathe, right? Was he even breathing? Why was everyone looking at him? Why did they care so much about what happened? He wasn't upset! He was fine! He was listening to the class! He was enjoying it as promised to Michael!

He closed his eyes tightly pressing his marker against the script.

They didn't stop saying his name.

Jeremy, Jeremy, Jeremy.

"Mr. Heere... Mr. Heere... Jeremy Heere!"

"I'm very happy with this class, I swear!"

Then he woke up. There were no looks on him, no one was laughing, nobody had said his name beyond Professor Reyes, who was watching him with a strict look.

"Mr Heere, can you tell me what I've been saying about the zombie serum and who created it? I imagine you're paying attention."

He sweated cold feeling his face burn red, and then he heard the hidden laughter, but this time real and concrete. He even thought he heard them say "The freak is freaking out."

"Y-Yes, excuse me, I just wanted to underline something in the script."

He didn't stop to check if his excuse was credible for Mr Reyes, in any way or other he would let him pass to continue explaining the modified story while the popular guys had this time a reason to laugh at him. Christine had seen him. He didn't need a confirmation. What was she thinking of him right now? What would Michael believe if he saw him make a fool of himself like that? Surely he would think that he was an idiot for having drowned in a drop of water believing that they were talking about him behind his back for something as seen and passable as Christine leaving him to go with Jake.

It wasn't important, he was used to being excluded.

And if it wasn't important... Why were there drops fading the ink from the script?

Some things never change.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Why Christine IS SO CUTE AND WONDERFUL?

Michael is a protective friend, yeah <3

WOW, Hum... Translate is not as easy as I thought.

However I hope you liked it, thank you very much for reading!