Just for This Year

Chapter Twenty-Two

Thursday
October 24

7 Days Before

"Sam, that's the fifth time you've messed up that line."

Sam groaned, tilting his head back in annoyance. It wasn't Mrs. Hastings' fault that he kept messing up, but he just wanted to blame her. He couldn't focus, if he was being honest. It was impossible to focus on anything besides Charlie talking to Elle in the corner.

"Can't I just improvise? I mean, really. It's a monologue. We might as well call it a mine-o-logue cause I'm solo up here," Sam insisted, his arms moving wildly.

Mrs. Hastings squeezed her eyes shut as if it pained her. "Sam, mono means—"

"And no one has to know if I mess it up!" he exclaimed, catching Charlie's attention finally.

"You can't improvise the entire thing, Sam," his director sighed out, taking her glasses off and placing down the script. "You've done well on the other scenes, is something about this one throwing you off?"

Yes, something was throwing him off with this scene. It was his character reflecting on his and Charlie's character's friendship over the years. The whole concept is for the monologue to act as a way to tell the story of how they met and became close. And if he was being honest, it was a bit too close to their actual story.

He was convinced that his character Henry was in love with Dean, Charlie's character. Maybe he was just deflecting his own life onto this play, but he didn't care. Henry was way too passionate about his friend's love life. Everything he said felt as if he was basically holding a giant light up sign above his head that said 'I'm in love with you, please be with me'. It was difficult for Sam to separate the story. With everything going on, this scene was difficult, to say the least.

It almost seemed as if Mrs. Hastings could hear every one of his thoughts. She let out a soft sigh and stood up from her desk in the audience. She tilted her head to the side, gesturing for Sam to head to the side stage. He fiddled anxiously with his fingers, nodding and moving to the side. He waited and watched as she walked up the side stairs towards him.

Mrs. Hastings gave him a reassuring smile, but looked like she was struggling to find the right words. "Look, Sam. Sometimes acting is difficult. It can be hard to connect with a scene, but sometimes it's even harder to separate yourself from a scene."

Sam's eyes widened. "I- I don't, that's not—"

"Take that as you will. It's frankly none of my business what my students are up to outside of rehearsal. But that's not to say I don't care about your well-being," she continued softly. Sam could feel his heart beat a bit faster as she went on, but was feeling a whole new level of respect for his director. "What do you think of this scene, Sam?"

He huffed out shortly, eyes darting down to his feet. "It's a cool monologue."

Mrs. Hastings gave him a dry look, seeming to want to roll her eyes. "Isn't that lovely? Really, what do you think of it?"

"I think..." Sam trailed off as he tried to gather his thoughts. "I think that Henry sees their story differently than Dean. I think it might mean more to him, which is why it's his monologue. I'm not sure if Dean would tell the story with as much... feeling."