Loveless (Osemanverse #10)(51)

It was our first rehearsal in a real rehearsal room. We were inside one of the many large, old buildings by Durham Cathedral that contained nothing but classrooms, which were available to rent out as society activity spaces. I imagined this building was what most private schools felt like – wooden and unnecessarily large.

The screech in question was one I was coming to know well.

Rooney appeared out of a classroom doorway wearing a burgundy boiler suit, which looked immensely fashionable on her, but if I’d worn it, would have made me look like a car-wash employee.

She grabbed both my arms and started leading me into the room. Inside was mostly empty apart from one table set up at the far end, upon which Pip and Jason were sitting. Jason appeared to be doing some of his course reading, while Pip looked up and stared at Rooney with nothing less than disdain.

‘I’m dying, Georgia,’ said Rooney. ‘Literally. I’m going to explode.’

‘Please calm down.’

‘No, I am. I was up until six a.m. this morning planning the rest of the show.’

‘I know. We live together.’

Since I had informed Rooney that Sunil was on board, she’d gone a little bit overboard on the play preparation – staying up late to plan, scheduling weekly rehearsals for the rest of the year, and bombarding all of us in our new group chat that Pip had named ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dab’. Rooney argued with Pip about the group chat name in the group chat for several hours.

‘We have to get the first couple of scenes ready before the Bailey Ball,’ Rooney continued. ‘That’ll keep us on target.’

‘That’s only a few weeks away.’

‘Exactly.’

The Bailey Ball – the upcoming ball at St John’s in early December – was completely irrelevant to our society, but Rooney had decided to use it as a target anyway. Probably just to scare us into attending the rehearsals.

‘What if Sunil doesn’t want to come after all?’ She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘What if he thinks it’s a shit idea? He’s a third year. He knows things.’

‘He’s really not the sort of person who’s going to criticise a student play, to be honest.’

It was then that Sunil entered the room, wearing dark chinos with a red stripe up each side, a tight polo and a denim jacket. Somehow he appeared not to be freezing to death in November’s brutal northern temperature.

He smiled as he approached, and I felt an uncomfortable wash of guilt that he might just be here because I asked.

Pip and Jason joined us to say hi.

‘You’re the only one I haven’t met already,’ said Sunil to Jason, holding out his hand.

Jason shook it. He looked intimidated. He was probably in awe of the sheer coolness that radiated from Sunil at all times. ‘Hi. I’m Jason.’

‘Hi! I’m Sunil. You’re very tall, Jason.’

‘Uh … I suppose I am?’

‘Congrats.’

‘Thanks?’

Rooney clapped her hands together loudly. ‘OK! Let’s start!’

Jason and Sunil got sent to the other side of the room to go through a scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream while Pip, Rooney and I sat down in a circle on the floor with copies of Much Ado About Nothing laid out in front of us.

Much Ado is probably one of the best Shakespeares because the plot is exactly like an enemies-to-lovers fanfic, with a lot of confusion and miscommunication along the way. The premise is: Beatrice and Benedick hate each other, and their friends find this hilarious, so they decide to trick them into falling in love, and it works much better than anyone expected.

Amazing.

I had again been chosen by Pip and Rooney to play one of the romantic leads – Benedick. Pip was playing Beatrice. We sat down in a circle to read the scene, and I hoped I’d do better this time. Maybe it had just been awkward with Jason. Now I was acting with Pip in a much funnier scene.

‘I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick,’ Pip drawled with an eye-roll. ‘Nobody marks you.’

I put on my best sarcasm and responded, ‘What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?’

‘Less angry, I think,’ said Rooney. ‘Like, Benedick’s teasing her. He thinks it’s hilarious.’

I loved enemies-to-lovers romances. But I was struggling to get into this. I’d much rather just watch someone else perform it.

I let Pip read her next line before I chipped in again, this time trying to sound less annoyed.

‘Then is courtesy a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted,’ I said. ‘And I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.’

‘Hm,’ said Rooney.

‘Look,’ I said. ‘This is the first time we’re reading it through.’

‘It’s OK. Maybe this role just isn’t for you.’

This and Juliet? Was it just the romantic roles I couldn’t do? Surely not – I’d played plenty of romantic roles in the past in school plays and youth theatre shows and I was fine.

Why was I psyching myself out about romantic roles now?

‘Hey!’ Pip barked at Rooney. ‘Stop insulting Georgia!’

‘I’m the director! I’ve got to be honest!’