Rising Shards

Oka paced back and forth behind me while I tried to do homework at the desk in our room. She kept making a little sound before turning around.

“Are you doing alright there?” I asked.

“Yeah, you’re kinda making a little ‘myerugh’ sound every few seconds.” Kalei said from the other side of the room in the little lounge area, where she’d set up her new game console with a little TV her parents had brought over.

“Well, I’ve definitely…got to...er...” Oka said.

She paused, made another little ‘myerugh’ sound, and started pacing again.

“Alright, well that’s a satisfactory answer for me,” Kalei said and continued playing her game.

I was looking for an excuse to procrastinate this assignment, where I had to write a page and a half about how my new tail was going. It was going annoyingly; every day brought a new reason to be annoyed by having a sudden Cani tail. Just that morning, I had somehow got it stuck in a stairwell. So I gave up on the paper and whirled in my chair.

Oka had a binder in her hand that she kept checking.

“It’s tryouts today for the play,” Oka explained. “And if I don’t get a part in the play, I’ll have to be in the crew, which isn’t really what I signed up for.”

“Do you have a tough part you have to perform or something?” I asked.

“The part’s alright, Reit picked a scene that’s a bit too slam poetry but I can manage there, I just…” Oka said. “Lillia’s shaken my faith in the idea that I can actually act. Because I’ve never acted before, and the only time I’ve really been on a stage was in your memory trial. So I’m nervous. Like, really really nervous.”

“Like making that little ‘myerugh’ sound nervous.”

“Yes!” Oka said. “I have a few hours before tryouts and I’m just standing here. Or pacing here, you’ve heard me.”

“Maybe this room isn’t the best place to practice,” I said. “Want to go over your scene with me somewhere else?”

I was hoping Oka’s eyes would light up by my gracious offer, but she still looked nervous. I understood getting caught up in that anxiousness all too well.

“That might be good,” Oka said.

We navigated past Kalei’s tangle of game console and TV cords at the front of the room and wandered around the girls’ dorms a bit. It was the weekend, so the dorms were pretty packed.

“Where do you think would be a good spot?” I asked.

“Maybe somewhere kinda performance-y?” Oka said right before we both nearly got trampled by a group of girls. “But also private.”

My heart did a little bathump at the idea of being somewhere private alone with Oka, but that’s just how my heart was with anything Oka related.

After a lap of the dorms, we finally found a spot near one of the stairwells, a little quiet area with nobody around, just a few extra chairs that I quickly realized were not spares but broken ones. I considered it character growth that I didn’t sit on them and break them even more, sitting down against the wall instead. There was a big window nearby that reminded me how dreary the weather was, it was raining outside. Oka took a stance in front of me, holding her binder with shaky hands.

“You’ll tell me if I suck, right?” Oka asked.

I feel like even if she did suck at acting, if I told her that it’d break her confidence down even more. So naturally I said, “Yep, I’ll be brutally honest.”

“Great,” Oka said. “So I’m playing a hot air balloon pilot who has thirty seconds to live before her head explodes, but she’s actually an imaginary void being of a painter stuck in the void, so really I’m playing the painter.”

“And this is for a high school play?” I asked.

“It’s just for tryouts,” Oka said. “Reit wants the maximum range of emotions we can show for a first acting impression.”

Oka took a deep breath. I had to stop her from pacing again.

“Oh, alright, so—” Oka said. “So it starts, and…”

“Maybe just start the scene with the scene?” I said.

“Right, right. Yeah! That’s good.” Oka said. “I mean, that’s a good…idea. I’m scared, Zeta.”

“You’re gonna do awesome, Oka.” I said. “Maybe try just reading the lines out loud. Even if it’s just that, it’d be good to have them out there.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Oka said. She cleared her throat. “Ioncewasahotairballoonpilot! Andnowmyhead’sgonnaexplode! andIcan’tbelievethis! Whatmylifehasbecomethisissounbelievablebutperhapsmyheadisnotexploding! BecauseIamjustadreamofapainterandperhapstrulyitisIwhoisthepainter!”

Oka heaved after blurting all that out in like five seconds.

“Well, that’s a start.” I said. “Now try it, slower maybe?”

“Alright…” Oka said. “I…once…was…a…hot…air…balloon…pilot…and…now…my…head’s…gonna…explode…and…and…this script is really awful.”

Oka sighed and flopped into a cross legged position right across from me. “How am I gonna even read this stupid thing, let alone act it out?”

I struggled to think of a good solution for her as Oka read through the lines a few more times.

“Oh! I know!” I said. “Stella’s been in tons of plays, I bet she has good tips!”

“Yes!” Oka said. “Call her, please!”

I called Stella, hoping she wasn’t out or something.

“Hey, what’s up?” Stella asked.

“Stella, I need your help,” I said. “Oka’s trying out for the play, do you have any good tips for this?”

“Do I have tips? I wrote the book on tryout tips.” Stella said. “Not really, but give her the phone.”

I handed Oka the phone.

“Oh, h-hello…Stella,” Oka said. “Yes, I am doing well.”

Oka suddenly had really good manners on the phone, which was kinda weird to hear, especially when she was talking to my sister.

“The scene I was asked to perform is from ‘Balloons of a Painter’…yes, I agree it’s very strange…alright…” Oka said. “Breathing, I can do that…" She giggled. “That’s a good one! OK, thank you so much, Stella! I owe you one!”

Oka handed the phone back to me.

“What, did she just hang up before saying bye to me?” I whined.

“She had good tips though!” Oka said. “She said if I do the scene more like funny than serious, it’ll stand out for all the people who will be doing it way too seriously. And to not try the underwear trick.”

“Because ‘picturing everyone in their underwear has too many risks of backfiring and distracting than aiding your performance,’“ I recited. “She told me that one a lot, I can’t believe I didn’t say it first.”

Oka did a few more run throughs of the scene, trying to make it as goofy and bombastic as possible. She really seemed to loosen up playing it that way, I laughed way too hard at her delivering “And now my head’s gonna EXPLODE,” with the sarcasm and tension of someone stuck in line at the post office.

“Thanks, Zeta, I really appreciate all this.” Oka said.

“Stella did most of the important stuff,” I said.

“But you still helped a lot,” Oka said. “I’m gonna head down to the auditorium, I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Yeah, good luck!”

Oka started to walk away but stopped and turned around.

“Wait,” Oka said. “Gimme a hug.”

“A-alright.” I got up and she gave me a quick, strong hug.

“For luck.” Oka said. “Alright, see ya!”