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Our last class with Earl covers agency and marketing. We’re not under any pressure to perform today, so a relaxed vibe greets me upon arrival. Tessa sits alone, as usual, with her head buried in her cell phone, but everyone else stands around in groups, casually chatting. Sabrina approaches me from across the room.
“What happened to you the other night? I turned around and you’d disappeared. No goodbye?” she says with mock anger in her voice.
I really don’t feel like getting into the real reason why I left abruptly, as there is no point rehashing my inadequacies as a fully functioning member of the in crowd. “I was really tired.” I shrug my shoulders. “You guys were having so much fun, I didn’t want to interrupt you. Thanks for inviting me, by the way. Your place is awesome.”
“Yeah, isn’t it? And just think, you could have lived there if you hadn’t run out on me that day we met.”
“I don’t think so, Sabrina. I’m sure it’s kind of out of my price range.”
“Oh who cares. My dad owns it.”
She’s even richer than I thought. Her dad helps her out financially, which might not be a whole lot for some, but when your dad’s a millionaire, it basically means your life is handed to you on a silver platter.
“I thought you said you needed a roommate to afford the place or you would have to move out?”
“Yeah, well, not really. My dad prefers I have a roommate even though we don’t need the rent money...some mumbo jumbo about safety and keeping me humble. I was really hoping you would feel sorry for me and take me up on my offer. I would’ve been fair on the rent. I don’t normally like people right off the bat when I first meet them, but you seemed really nice and you sounded so down about your apartment hunt and so wounded over your break up.”
“So you lied?”
“Yeah,” she says matter-of-factly, nodding her head.
Wow. So if I had just taken her up on her offer, I could have been living in a penthouse right now? Never mind. I wouldn’t have done it anyhow. I would have felt terrible about not paying my fair share.
“Guess who has a new boyfriend?” Sabrina says in a teasing voice, catching Talya’s eye. She smiles, shaking her head, and sits down in the row in front of us.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she says, laughing. “We just exchanged numbers, that’s all.”
“Well, I think he likes you,” Sabrina says, “I had a really good feeling you two would hit it off.”
“Well, he hasn’t called me yet so I guess we’ll see. He’s really nice...” she trails off nonchalantly, but can’t hide the smile spreading across her face.
“Don’t worry, he’ll call,” Sabrina says confidently.
Earl walks in, shutting the door behind him. “Let’s get to work, people. This is our last class and we have a lot to cover. Take out your notebooks.” Everyone takes a seat and Earl launches into a lesson about how to get an agent and market ourselves in the highly cut throat and competitive world of acting. “So you wanna get an agent?” Earl asks, looking around the room as if he really expects us to answer what we already know is another one of his dramatic rhetorical questions. “Well, it’ll take time and dedication but without one, you are nothing, so you better listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you. First of all, you need to learn your craft so you’ll be good enough for an agent to want you. Nobody is going to deal with you in this business just because you’re cute. Then, you need to get yourself a great headshot and put together a resume to go with it.”
From the look on Karen’s face, you’d think she’s being forced to watch a National Geographic special on the mating rituals of sub-Saharan beetles multiple times, but Molly hangs on to every single word. Mindy has the long, lean body of a classical ballet dancer, while Molly has the compact muscular physique of a gymnast I always longed for. Aesthetically, dancing professionally may not be Molly’s best fit because she’s short, so their joint Hollywood dream may depend on her ability to develop her skills as an actress.
Earl’s zest for all things acting is infectious. The more I hear, the more fascinated I become by this world of headshots, castings and being on set.
“No one is going to pay you one-thousand dollars a day to be mediocre or lazy,” he bellows. “Yes. That is how much people on TV make. The minimum per day you can expect to earn as a member of the Screen Actors Guild while you are on set is $900, but the hours are long and the scrutiny is intense. You have to work hard and you have to stand out.”
I lean forward in my seat, absorbing every word and gesticulating hand gesture with interest, while a pressing sense of urgency to do and achieve swells from somewhere between my heart and my stomach. Getting paid to act is a big dream. Not only big, but nearly impossible. Still convinced that every single one of us is going to be beating down the doors of Hollywood after this, Earl closes his final class by wishing us luck as we pursue our acting careers. It’s highly doubtful that Sabrina, Karen, and Janine have been convinced, but I’m sold.
“Well guys, guess I’ll see you next week for modeling,” I say to Talya and Sabrina as I gather up my things. Talya and Callie weren’t impressed or impressive when it came to acting, and are visibly giddy with excitement about modeling where they hope to shine.
I’ve lingered behind because I dropped my pen. It’s a freebie from Ikea but it’s driving me nuts that I can’t find it. I stoop down, searching under a row of chairs, when Earl walks over to me.
“Aren’t you interested in my acting classes?” he asks but it comes out sounding like more of an accusation than a question.
“Uh, well...no. I mean, I loved this class. I love everything we did, it’s just that I’m not so sure it’s something I can do.” I give up on my pen, standing up.
“Well, why not, Alexis? You’ve made excellent progress and it would be a shame not to see you develop that further.”
“Well, thanks. I’m glad to hear you say I don’t suck,” I say with a small laugh. “It’s just that I work full time during the week. I wouldn’t have the time to pursue it anyway, so...” There is a second of silence as Earl flashes a contemplative look, and I wish for the reckless abandon of a seventeen-year old fueled by goals and desire.
“Never give up on your dreams, Alexis. At the end of the day, sometimes that’s all you have,” he says briskly with a raise of his left eyebrow, placing one of his acting studio flyers in my hand before exiting the room.
I carefully fold the flyer neatly into a square and place it gingerly in my purse as if it were a precious document I’ll file away later in a locked box for safekeeping. I stare longingly at the stage with the spot light cutting out a round circle of light in the center. Earl always turns it on, even if we aren’t using the stage. I shut it off and watch as the circle of light disappears, leaving in its wake a dull, scuffed little stage that could probably use another coat of black paint.
I stop in the restroom on my way out. The door opens and closes while I’m in the stall. Pointy black stilettos belonging to Tessa the ice queen peek out from underneath the stall next to me. I take my time, hoping she’ll leave first, but the only sound is silence. She’s not budging, so maybe I can get to the sink quickly and beat her out of there. We open the stall doors at the same exact time and freeze, sharing that awkward moment when you realize someone’s trying to avoid you and you’re trying to do the same, but both of you have failed miserably. She hurries to the sink and washes her hands. I move forward next to her, and decide it’s really stupid that we’ve been in class together for eight weeks and can’t even say a word to one another. I say hello over the sound of running water.
“Hello,” she replies without even a glance in my direction. She shuts off the water and reaches for a paper towel to dry her hands. There are none, so we find ourselves standing with our hands under the blower trying not to look at each other. I’m not sure why I’m compelled to make polite conversation. The blower is loud enough that I probably shouldn’t even bother, but I say, “So, how did you enjoy the acting class?” Midway through my sentence the blower shuts off and she shoots me a funny look in response to my loud yelling in a suddenly silent bathroom.
“I loved it,” she replies in a normal volume, walking towards the exit. She opens the door and I follow behind her, holding my arms out in front of me so the door doesn’t slam into my face. She doesn’t ask me how I liked it, but I supply the information anyway.
“I liked it a whole lot more than I thought I would, and I think I’m a lot better at it than I expected I would be...surprisingly enough.”
“Well, it turns out that in my case, it’s the exact opposite,” she says bitterly. “I’m not nearly as good as I was led to believe.”
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” she mutters and hurries off.
“Wait!” I call out, walking faster to catch up with her as we head out of the Chloe Dillon suite and into the hallway leading down to the elevator bank. “What do you mean? Look, I know we haven’t been friendly in class but now that I think about it, I don’t even know exactly why.”
“I can tell you why,” she says. Her voice turned hard. “It’s the famous Tessa curse. Girls don’t like me. They never have and they never will, so I keep my distance. It’s easier that way.”
Surprised at her aggression, but curious to know more about the mind of this stand-offish girl, I press on. “Well, how do you know they aren’t going to like you if you never give them a chance?”
“Believe me, I know. I’ve been through enough middle schools and high schools to figure out that much by now. I smile and I’m friendly. They pretend they like me, but before I know it, they’re stabbing me in the back and I’m being accused of trying to steal their boyfriend or being a stuck up bitch.”
My eyes widen in surprise, and she takes my silence as agreement.
“You can’t tell me that’s not what everyone in class is saying about me.”
“Well, I don’t necessarily know they think that,” I mumble down at my feet. I’m really a bad liar and I’m not sure what else to say, because we both know that pretty much everyone really does think she’s a bitch, but maybe it’s time someone told her why.
“Yeah, well, see you later,” she says stepping inside the elevator as the doors open in front of us.
I try to avoid confrontation and firmly believe in exercising a verbal filter so as not to make a jerk out of myself. Sabrina isn’t afraid to speak her mind, and it’s one of the many things I think is so cool about her, but it’s not something I’m good at doing myself. In personal growth, Eve taught us that instead of thinking about the person we want to be we, should be that person, be the one who reaches out. Be that person who facilitates growth and pursues their dreams. Maybe if I hadn’t been so scared and reached out more to others in school, I’d have gotten that back in return. Maybe my entire experience could have been different, and maybe I can do right now what I should have done in the past.
I watch Tessa disappear behind the closing elevator doors, but at the last minute, I stick my arm out to stop them and step in. She looks at me curiously, scooting a little further to her side of the elevator. We stare at the display numbers dropping, bringing us closer to the ground floor. I take a deep breath.
“Listen, Tessa, the only reason any of us ever thought you were a bitch is because of the way you act and the things you say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snaps.
“Do you really have no idea what you’re doing?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“Well, when you walk into a room with your nose in the air and a glare on your face, what do you expect people to think? Then when you do speak, it’s always just to mention how good you are at something or to blame someone else for why you haven’t done better. On the very first day of class, you sat down next to Molly and ignored her when she tried to say hello.”
“Well, what was the point of saying hello back? The minute anyone is friendly with me and I return the favor, I end up getting screwed over. I figured I’d save everyone the trouble.”
“Molly is one of the sweetest girls you’ll ever meet. She never has an unkind thing to say about anyone.”
“Except me.”
“No, not even you, though she would have every reason to. She always makes excuses for your rude behavior. When we pointed out how you ignored her that day, she laughed it off and said you just didn’t hear her. She insists that you should be invited to the end session party even though none of us think you’d even want to come.”
She looks surprised to hear that.
The elevator dings our arrival on the first floor. She doesn’t step out. Neither do I. The doors open and close while we stand in silence. She lets out a deep sigh, then her face visibly softens.
“It’s not that I want to be this way,” she says softly.
I have to lean forward a bit so I can hear her.
“My dad works for a global company and we moved around a lot for his career. I didn’t get to go to the same schools with all the same friends. I always had to be the new girl, and kids took one look at me and decided they hated me or befriended me only to decide they hated me later. I’d show up half way through the school year and get the lead part in a play, be a year ahead of them in math or get too much attention from their boys. It was always something. The harder I tried to make everyone like me, the less they did. I stopped trying and focused on myself and doing what I needed to do to prove I was as good as, if not better than, them, whether they liked me or not.”
Her experience was far different than mine. I was always on the outside looking in too, but for different reasons. People didn’t hate me, but they didn’t necessarily want to be my friend either. I wasn’t talked about or envied, just politely excluded; which led me to believe there was something wrong with me. There was nothing wrong with Tessa, unless you count being too perfect. She developed a hard exterior, and I tried to disappear.
Tessa looks down at the floor. “I felt like nothing I ever did was good enough. I couldn’t be pretty enough or smart enough to get people to like me or to get what I wanted out of life. I know what I want and I’ve done everything I can to make it happen, in spite of everyone. I’m close, but I’m never quite where I want to be, and all I can see are those girls who wanted me to fail.”
I definitely know that feeling. Well, the feeling of not being where I want to be. I don’t think I’m close to anything, though. To be close to something, I’d have to know what it is I want. Then I’d need the confidence to go after it. She has that going for her, at least.
“God, how ridiculous is it that we still carry high school baggage around with us even in our twenties. I mean, we all know by the time we graduate what an insignificant blip on the radar of life that a stupid high school social hierarchy is, so why can’t we move on and let it go already?”
Tessa shrugs her shoulders and shakes her head, staring thoughtfully into space.
“I was never popular either, and to this day, I still let it define me. I try to blend into the background because I’m afraid of being judged or rejected.” Maybe the reason I never had too many friends is because I didn’t think I deserved any.
“You are beautiful Tessa. I’ll never be as pretty or as mean as you—I say that in the most constructive way possible. But we really aren’t so different. You aren’t so different. It doesn’t have to be you against everyone else all the time. There’s no reason you can’t start giving people a chance. High school is over.”
“Well, they weren’t so nice to me in college either,” she replies.
“Oh, just like none of us were nice to you after you strutted in here and ignored everyone?” I say sarcastically.
“Yeah,” she says with a small smile, nodding her head.
We stand there for a minute, lost in thought, neither one sure what to say next.
“So, now that we’re friends, do you want to have a slumber party in the elevator or should we get out and go home?” We hit the ground floor at least five minutes ago and were so into our conversation, we never bothered to get out.
“I think sleeping at home would be more comfortable,” she agrees jokingly.
We laugh as I push the open door button and we step into the lobby. “Well, I guess I’ll see you next week.”
“Yeah, see ya,” she says, waving.
There’s still so much I don’t get about this girl, but I’ve actually cracked the surface at least. That’s something I would have never done before, and it feels good to have taken a chance and reached out. It’s just one small gesture. One little step. You never know where those can lead until you try.
