Frenemies
Mouche walked towards me.
My
best friend had brought the Julliard people backstage to meet us. Was it her
fault that they seemed more interested in talking to her about the possibility of a scholarship? They did say how great
I was in the first two acts and Mouche looked at me with a wan smile, “I hope
you can forgive me,” she whispered. Then I realised, it was my place to say,
“what for?”
I
had to get over myself.
This
was not the end of the world. After all, we still hadn’t organized dates for the prom, but I wasn’t
letting her get away with taking my role and kissing my man and thinking it
hadn’t hurt me to the very core of my
being.
The
Julliard representatives gave me a polite smile then walked off as Mouche and I
scowled at each other.
“How
could you, Mouche? You were my best friend in the whole world!”
Mouche looked stunned. She turned around without giving me another
glance, and walked away.
For
the first time in years, Mouche and I went home without saying a word,
separately and silent.
Well, Mouche walked, I hobbled.
My
ankle was bound tightly but well on the way to healing.
Of
course, the play didn’t go off without a hitch, but it did end up being a huge
hit. Rocco and Julie only ran for six
nights but there was a packed house every night. Mark learnt his lines pretty
quickly after his first performance (after all he had been listening to the
rehearsals for months!) and really rose to the occasion. Mouche got the best
reviews of her career. Thom begged her to come back to the agency as he phoned
with updates on Wednesday’s audition. “It’s between her and one other girl but
I will keep you posted...”
Teegan glanced at me knowingly and said, “It’s amazing what some girls
will do to get their baby sister famous...”
“What do you mean?”
Teegan had never really warmed to Mouche even though Mouche had made all
her costumes beautifully and had really tried to be helpful once all the girls
had realized their rules were somewhat skewed and they would need access to the
proper advice.
“Mouche would never kiss a boy just to get Wednesday famous.”
“Not what I hear,” said Teegan. “It sounds like she’s been doing more
than kissing. My sister told me Jet’s father owns the company making the
advertisement. Seems like I didn’t have to put in a good word for her after
all.”
It’s interesting to note that often people accuse others of something
they have imagined or have done themselves. Mouche was giving me the silent
treatment and I was seriously beginning to miss her. My only outside “friend”
contact came via the Princesses who were reverting, true to form, to type. Most
of us were busy working on the final edit of the soon to be Boy Rating Blog now that our group
effort, the team work of the second Boy
Rating Diary, was practically in the bag.
Mouche hadn’t returned my calls.
The end of the school year was nigh, the dates had been dated, none of
us had boyfriends (except maybe Mouche) but she
hadn’t spoken to me for almost a
week now, not since I’d yelled at her after the kissing scene with Mark. In
truth, I’d only meant to ignore her for a day but it just seemed more and more
difficult to talk. But let’s face it; the fault really lay entirely with me. I
needed to own my jealous streak.
Teegan wouldn’t talk to Mouche either. The leading Princess had always
been envious of Mouche’s perfect hair, cornflower blue eyes and talent. Teegan
had long wished for a reason to exclude such a pretty high-achiever. The other
girls sided with Teegan, because deep down, they’d felt the same way. The only
person who seemed to be talking to Mouche was Mark. Oh, and Jet. They all sat
together to have lunch. It got even worse when I asked Jet to help me with my
history homework (though I didn’t really need any help). That was when Mouche
discovered me canoodling in a corner of the lunchroom with Jet. It was the same
corner we’d invented the original Boy Rating Plan in, all those months ago.
I
grabbed Jet by the shirt collar, flicked his hair out of his eyes and planted a
kiss on his cheek when he least expected it just as Mouche was walking over to
say “hi,” and collect her lunch.
She
turned around again and before I knew it, even if I’d wanted to talk to her,
she didn’t seem receptive to talking anymore. In fact, she frowned at me.
I
was way upset but pretending not to be when she began to appear in tandem with
my nemesis, Freya. Mouche really knew how to go for the jugular. They were
discussing fashion and pre-men as if I didn’t exist. Apparently, Freya was
secretly jealous that I had stolen Teegan which wasn’t entirely true because
Teegan was no replacement for Mouche. We didn’t have that much in common.
Teegan was acting more superior than ever. She was way too self-obsessed
to be interested in my life plans (recently shelved). Teegan wasn’t interested
in helping me become a better performer, either. She just wanted to discuss
boys and talk about how easy it would be to prise Jet from Mouche (“if she’s
even got him...”). This got a tad boring after a while. We polished a lot of
fingernails and chewed a lot of gum.
Life was lonely without Mouche. I went to my closet one afternoon and
pulled out the hundreds of childish letters we’d written to each other over the
years and a little tear dropped off my cheek and into the shoe box before I
mopped it up with a tissue.
My mom
noticed me flicking through old photograph albums. She was getting ready to go
on a group date with Martin, Mrs Mouche and Mrs Mouche’s new boyfriend, Jake.
“I’m
going to talk to Mouche’s mom about this. I’m sure there is a way for both of
you to be friends again.”
“No,
mom, don’t. I’m going to work this out.”
“Well, just remember darling, there are always boys, and it’s wonderful
to make the right match and perhaps even have a husband one day, but real
friendships can’t be replaced. The best ones last a lifetime...”
It
was true.
I
waved to Trey when he was washing the car that weekend and he waved back but it
just wasn’t the same. I’d have to start mentally preparing a proper apology.
Perhaps I’d even write it down. I could list it in the Sunrise News if Mouche could even be bothered reading it. Maybe it
would be better to put it in her letterbox, personalize it like in the good old
days. Hopefully, Mouche would listen.
Let’s face it, my friendship with Mouche seemed just as important as
winning the game, maybe even more so.
Then something happened which changed everything and forced us all to
talk again on the day Miss Love and Mr Frames tied the knot.
