Colors by Russell J. Sanders

so. i think he wants me. but i did slip up today
    Cara: how so?
    Zane: called him babe. girlfriend heard. he didn’t. or at least he pretended not to. maybe he liked it.
    Cara: just watch out, ’k?
    Zane: yes, mommy
    Cara: gotta run. rehearsal’s in 15
    Zane: ciao, babe

Chapter 10
     
     
    I’ M RUMMAGING through my locker, searching in vain for my calculus book. Aunt Jenny is always ragging me about how disorganized I am. I guess I put all my discipline into my art.
    “Now, don’t forget this afternoon,” I say. Melissa, through the magic of locker lottery, is right beside me, retrieving her own textbook from her locker. “Zane will be a big help with our tryout numbers.”
    “Zane, Zane. Zane is a professional. Zane is a natural. Zane discovered penicillin. Zane, Zane, Zane. All you talk about is him .” She slams her locker door shut, the crash reverbing above the pervasive noise of the hallway.
    “Well, aren’t we touchy today.” I shut my locker door gently and give the dial on the lock a twirl.
    “Well, it’s just I’m not all that crazy about Zane.” As we head toward class. Melissa continues her rant—and I let her. “All he talks about is theater, theater, theater. It’s creepy, is all I’m saying.”
    “It’s his whole life, Melissa. It’s like someone else I know—” I halt. Stare. Eyes bore into Melissa’s. “—someone who is always talking church, church, church.” I started out trying to let her vent, thinking maybe I could turn her feeling about Zane inside out, make her see he’s a good guy. But now I’m pissed at her. I don’t like the feeling, but I’m human. She’s got to get over this. Zane and I are going to be together a lot, and Melissa has to accept it.
    Melissa glares at me. As they say, if looks could kill….
    “Well, I think God’s a lot more important than Liza, Chita, and Bernadette .” Sarcasm cascades off her tongue.
    “Look, I refuse to get into this. Theater is important to Zane—” I pause to make my upcoming point. “— and me. That’s all.” I do a three-point turn and walk away. To where, I’m not sure, since my class is in the direction we were going in. But I know I have to get away from her.
    I’d let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, a long way off, Melissa could make a good wife. She’s a devout, churchgoing person, and isn’t that what a guy would want in a mate? After all, I may not believe all this stuff she and her fellow Christians spout, but it’s supposed to be what you teach your kids, and if we have any, somebody will have to teach them. I don’t know if I’m fooling myself or not, but spending so much time with her at church, performing with her, I’m learning to appreciate Melissa more and more. But this blind spot she has for Zane is sucking all those good feelings dry. I’d yet to admit to her—or to myself really—there might be a future with her; I might be ready to take the leap, declare myself. Not a marriage proposal, but at least a commitment of some kind, other than just high school boyfriend/girlfriend. But this consuming jealousy of hers is killing me. Her total dismissal of Zane screams she will never understand me . Zane and I, with our interest in the theater, are so much alike. If Melissa can’t accept him, she’ll never be completely in touch with me. Not really. Not truly.
    “Wait, Neil.” Melissa suddenly grabs my arm. “I’m sorry. I know theater is important to you. I respect that. But it’s not my thing, so I’m not going to try out.”
    I’m disappointed. I know she has to see it in my face. I wanted her to be Laurey to my Curly and Zane’s Jud Fry. If she were in the show, maybe she’d finally get it , this pull the theater has for me and Zane.
    “I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you this.” Her words are measured, like she’s rehearsed this moment. “It’s just—” She pauses. “—not… me…. Besides, I have a YFC meeting after school today, so I couldn’t