Chapter Text
“Do you think it’s type casting?” Janis asked, between painful stings of laughter. She was holding her side, leaning on the wall and doing her best to catch her breath. Between the peels of laughter, however, it was all but impossible.
“It’s definitely not an accident,” Damian wheezed, in no better state than Janis.
“Maybe that was the part she wanted!” Cady countered, trying to play devil’s advocate but failing almost immediately. It was hard to argue seriously when she could not stop grinning. The laughter that surrounded her was infectious, though, and soon enough she gave in to the giggles bubbling inside her. She covered her mouth, shaking her head.
“Hey, congrats on Audrey, though,” Janis said, with a gulp of air. “You’re going to kill that one, what a great role.”
“Did you audition for it?” Cady tilted her head, but Janis waved her hand and scoffed at the very idea.
“Let’s not forget who got Audrey Two, ladies,” Damian said, gathering himself enough to want some praise as well. He posed, and Janis grinned at him teasingly.
“I didn’t know you wanted to eat Caddy that bad,” she said, and he shoved his hand into her stomach and gave her a playful tickle. He knew exactly how ticklish she was, and that she hated it being used against her in public. As expected, she yelped, laughing, and swatted at him wildly.
“Well what about you? I don’t see your name on here, not even in the crew. How did you get out of auditioning?” Damian’s tone was accusing, and Janis only grinned at him. He had been looking forward to forcing her onto the stage and into the limelight, where she tended to shy away despite how talented she was. He knew better than anyone else, but in many ways that infuriated him. With the school making this project mandatory for all seniors, he had imagined this was his chance to do his favorite thing, theater, with his favorite person.
“You’re looking too low, actually,” Janis said, relenting. She pointed back to the framed cast list, running her finger up along the list of roles and names before passing the leads and instead stopping just under the name of the play. There, just under the director’s name, was Janis. The Stage Manager. “I’m your boss, buddy.”
“That is so not how that works,” Damian huffed, wrinkling his nose. She poked him in the side, and he heaved a profound sigh. “Well, at least you’re going to be there. I thought you’d call in sick for the next month to get out of it.”
“Ms. Norbury picked you for stage manager? That’s pretty cool!”
“Probably because Janis shattered some glass with her audition, and Norbury took pity on her,” a sharp, irritated voice said from behind the group. Janis turned, fists immediately clenched.
“I didn’t audition, Barbie. But I’m excited to see your new job. Dentist Barbie is going to fly off the shelves,” Janis pointed to the cast list and Regina rolled her eyes. The former Queen of the Plastics had not been immune to the school’s plan to unify the graduating class, in an attempt to recover from the year before and force them into a much more peaceful finale at North Shore High. She held an expensive looking bag close to her, almost protectively, as she drew nearer to the group.
“Ladies!” An excited voice cut in. The small group turned to see their math teacher approaching, Cady waving excitedly at her and hurrying over to say hi. Damian shook his head slowly, but there was no taking the math nerd out of Cady. “Are you guys excited about the cast list? I think we’re going to have an amazing show. I couldn’t believe how talented you all were.”
“Except Janis,” Regina sneered.
“Except J- er, well, I mean, she didn’t audition, so I don’t mean to imply that… uh. Well, ladies, I look forward to our first rehearsal after school! You’re going to have so much fun, I promise!” With a wave, the frenetic math teacher wandered off, and the group exchanged a giggle.
“She called me a lady again,” Damian sighed, and at the look Janis gave him, he grinned. “I wish she’d do that more.”
—
The school was buzzing. Though the year had only just begun, it seemed like the new togetherness campaign was generating a lot of attention. True, most of the activities in the program were not optional, but it was still a fun, new thing for the school to get involved in. Every teacher in the graduating year had a different project, and all of the seniors in the school were meant to take part in at least three of them. Most chose the performance based ones, like the full scale play and the musical. There were other artistic outlets, as well, including an art show and, of course, the talent show. Those were later in the year, however, and the schedule to get to them was jam packed with plenty of other things to try.
On top of the projects designed to teach the students and work as extracurricular activities for their college applications, there were in school projects as well as options that took place entirely off campus. A week at a camp as a counselor, cleaning up the local beaches, and working at soup kitchens were just a few of the many offerings the higher ups had organized. The school, spearheaded by Duvall and his wife, were determined not only to avoid another year like the disastrous one before, but to wipe the culture clean and build an entirely new social structure. One of friendship and determination, based on kindness.
None of the students were actively buying into any of that, but at the very least it looked like it was going to be a very fun, busy, and rewarding year.
Once the final class of the day let out, Cady, Damian and Janis met up in the hall before practically sprinting to the school’s theater. It was a beautiful space, though maybe the curtains were a little ragged and stained, and the stage could use a fresh coat of black paint. There was a thin layer of dust just hanging in the air, filtering in front of the spot lights as someone in the catwalks tested each one. A few of the bulbs were burnt out, and one of the lights refused to work. The sound booth was small and smelled like an old sandwich, but the sound system was at least the newest thing in the building. The massive soundboard and various screens made Janis grin ear to ear when she poked her head into the room to make sure everything was booting up.
She put on an orchestral version of the play’s music, just to set the right mood, though she slid the volume low so it was only an afterthought to the conversations that would be taking place. Hurrying back down to the stage, she joined Sharon Norbury in the pit, just in front of the stage. All the students who had made it into the cast and production team were filling the audience seats.
“Thank you, Janis,” Norbury said, hearing the music and brightening. She was already excited, of course, wearing a brightly colored Little Shop of Horrors sweater, but now her nerves were beginning to prickle. This was the first time she was able to really throw back to her theater days, and one of her secret passions. Yes, she loved math and adored being a teacher, especially when kids like Cady, who also loved math, showed up, but there was always a special place in her heart for the theater.
In many ways, it was where she found herself. She discovered not only how to speak, but what her voice truly sounded like, along with the skills to make sure every seat in the house could hear it. With the theater behind her, she went from a mousey, anxiety ridden child to a confident young adult, and still valued many of the lessons she had learned, through her teachers, her plays, and her own hard work. One of the most vital of those being how to laugh at herself, and let anything else slide off her back like water on a duck’s feathers.
She never would have survived becoming a high school math teacher without it.
Alright guys, let’s settle down and get things started!” Norbury called. Picking up a stack of folders that was almost half as tall as Janis herself, she turned to her stage manager and offered it to her. Janis looked dubious, but struggled to take the pile. “Hand these out. They’re all named. I alphabetized them, but I don’t think the kids sat down in any kind of order so that’s not going to help you too much.”
“Thanks,” Janis grunted, arms already shaking. She moved to dutifully hand out all the folders to their proper owners. Some were much thicker and filled with more things than others, and she took it to be scripts, changes, pre-rehearsal thoughts and notes on performances that had not even happened yet. Norbury was exactly the kind of person to have already invested several days into this, while the kids were just sitting down for the first meeting and introductions.
Sighing, having to make a few trips to make sure all the folders were dispersed, Janis returned to the stage. She hopped up onto the edge of it, sitting down and swinging her legs as Norbury spoke to the rest of the team. The start of the speech was nothing all that interesting, just common introductions and going over the basic rules and guidelines of the theater and being in her show. Grades, attendance, and the usual school rules still applied, and she even implied that there would be some sort of grading system, though it was not based on actual talent. Janis spaced out, barely listening, her eyes trailing over the interesting mix of students that had voiced interest in being involved. Some of them she never would have imagined stepping foot into a theater, much less a musical and of their own volition.
Her eyes came to rest on Regina who, though she seemed to be oblivious to anyone looking at her in that exact moment, looked oddly excited. As if sensing the weight of her gaze, Regina’s eyes flickered and shifted their focus. The deep, piercing blue met Janis’ eyes, and the Stage Manager give her a small smirk for her trouble. Regina nodded her head toward the stage, but Janis knew she was indicating the curtains at the back of it, and the space beyond.
—---
As soon as the group was allowed to break up into teams to go over their roles and look over all the paper work they had been given, Regina moved to the stage. She slipped into the backstage area without anyone particularly caring, lots of students opting to claim space on the stage to begin their work and chatter excitedly with their friends. She found dark eyes staring at her from behind another curtain, and she moved toward them. This particular curtain hid the controls to the suspension system, which was not likely to be used any time soon.
Regina caught Janis as the other scooted away, tugging her arm and pushing her back against the wall.
“Got something to say to me, Pyro? I saw the way you were looking at me.”
“I was just thinking how perfectly cast as a torturous psycho you were,” Janis said, looking up at Regina daringly as the other drew closer. She was using her height to her advantage, towering over Janis in an effort to make her feel small. Janis never let her gaze waver, knowing exactly where she stood with the other. She lifted one hand, sliding it under the hem of Regina’s shirt and tracing the edge thoughtfully.
“Oh, shut up. No one’s even watching,” Regina was the first to break, bending to press her lips to Janis’. Janis pushed up on her toes, meeting the kiss eagerly and sliding her other arm around Regina’s shoulders. Regina’s arms were around Janis’ waist, pressing her against her own lower body as she rumbled happily into the kiss. When it broke, she found those beautiful, shimmering dark eyes still on her. “God, you’re annoying.”
“We’re going to have so much fun,” Janis teased. Ever since returning Regina’s bag to her, Janis had been addicted. The two started a secret, playful relationship, though they were striving to keep it hidden from their friends and the rest of the school for now. Both agreed they had enough of the lime light and all the attention, plus theirs would be the kind of complicated that got the school worked up into a gossipy mess. It was better to avoid all the drama and rumors, and stay quiet about it.
Plus, it added to the fun. Sneaking around, as it turned out, was a game neither of them expected to enjoy so much.