ATLANTA GEORGIA
27th February 1981

JAE

Being tardy was a sure and proven way to ruin the rest of your day. Do you not believe so? Just ask Jae. She could tell you how today she had slept through her alarm and had woken up ten minutes to the time that Shadowside Prep closed its gates to students. She’d rushed to get ready, forgetting to brush her hair and spray some deodorant and had literally run to school huffing and puffing, reaching the wrought iron school gate sweating rivers.

It was needless to say that she was a mess: Physically (because of running one and a half miles in ten minutes) and emotionally (because of those damn Polaroids).

Jae had spent the greater part of last night thinking and overthinking those damn polaroids until she’d dosed off at around four in the morning, the exhaustion from her father’s political event coupled with her relationship troubles taking her out. She’d slept like the dead. And now she was late and looked a little like a horny male turkey.

Mrs. Livingstone, a rotund woman who taught Geometry gave her a lecture on proper sleep patterns and the importance of sleeping early and how early to bed means early to rise blah, blah, blah before letting her in. She couldn’t punish Jae with something as serious as detention because of who Jae was —rather because of who Jae’s father was. The last teacher who had tried to punish Jae by getting her indefinitely suspended for picking a fight was unemployed and would remain that way for life.

Jae had just pushed through the sliding glass doors of Shadowside Prep when she came face to face with a scowling Mr. Valencia dressed in a white short-sleeved shirt, navy blue suspenders, and pink shorts. Yes, pink shorts. It was important to note that he was able to get away with dressing so casually because he was the principal’s younger brother. This was also the reason why he was the only teacher in the whole school who had an office.

“I thought we had agreed that drama club members were supposed to be in school by seven today.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Valencia. They just don’t make alarm clocks like they used to.” Jae tried to joke, but it fell flat.

“Hmm,” Mr. Valencia crossed his arms over his chest, looking her up and down. Jae tried to pull a stray strand of hair that was plastered to her face with sweat then gave up. Her appearance could not be helped. Not without some water, soap, deodorant, and makeup. “Well, you are going to try on some of your costumes.”

“Costumes?”

Behind them, the curtain blew open, letting in a few strands of sunlight that reflected off Mr. Valencia’s bald head making it shinier. “Okay, not costumes. Just one costume. It’s the wedding dress you are going to wear at the end of the movie when you marry Tyler.”

“Oh.”

Mr. Valencia looked like he wanted to say more. He had that intense look he got when he was going to say something philosophical and deep. Instead, he said, “Fix yourself up. I can’t have my protagonist looking bedraggled and haggard.”

Jae turned to go. Somehow, she knew that that was not what Mr. Valencia had wanted to say. Mr. Valencia was not one to shy away from saying anything regardless of how offensive or inappropriate it was. So what was so bad that Mr. Valencia was holding back?

Mr. Valencia turned abruptly, holding her hand with the strength of a vise. He had big hands that encircled her whole arm. “Tyler and Sam are in the drama room.”

“So?”

Pursing his lips, Mr. Valencia continued. “They are alone. Together.”

“Again I don’t see why this concerns me.”

“I’m not stupid, Jae. I know something is going on between you two. It’s romantic. Dangerous but romantic.”

The little hairs on the nape of Jae’s neck rose, her heart was in her throat. She was instantly suspicious. Was it him who took the pictures? Was he the one who sent the envelope? If so, what did he have to gain? He didn’t need money. His elder sister —the principal—had enough money for him to live off of for as long as he lived.

Nah, it couldn’t be him. Then who?

Jae finally spoke. “I don’t know what you have heard. But there is nothing going on between me and Tyler. We are just co-stars. Competent co-stars. Nothing more.” Jae turned to leave, but Mr. Valencia didn’t let go of her arm.

“I’m not going to tell anyone if that’s what you are thinking.”

Fear —pure unadulterated fear— seized Jae, making her bold. She prised Mr. Valencia’s fingers one by one and threw back his arm. She didn’t need allies. In fact, she didn’t need anybody else knowing her secret. Not even Mr. Valencia. Someone was already trying to tell her father. And that was a problem in and of its own.

“Where is the costume?” Jae asked, driving the conversation to a safe topic.

“It’s in my office. On one of the chairs. Try it on and go to the Drama room. Do something with your hair. A chignon would look good.” Mr. Valencia turned on his heel, leaving Jae in the hallway with the implications of what he was trying to say.

Tyler and Sam are in the drama room.
They are alone. Together.

Was he implying that Sam and Tyler were getting close, that they were getting romantic?

Impossible, she said to herself. Still, Jae couldn’t shake the inkling of doubt that was slowly creeping up her spine itsy bitsy spider style, making her shudder.

Sam wasn’t the kind of person you would trust to be alone with your boyfriend because she was —to put it plainly— an attention whore. Any man who paid Sam attention —whether he was single or not— became the love of her life. Sam pursued any man that was attentive to her like a cheetah after prey then discarded the man like the scraps of a once tasty meal as soon as she detected that the attention was beginning to fizzle. She used men to satisfy her insecurities.

Jae shook her head to dispel such outrageous thoughts and headed for Mr. Valencia’s office, picked up the wedding dress that had been artfully draped over his chair and went to the girl's bathroom, locked herself in a stall to try on the dress.

The dress was itchy, to say the least. It was like it had been infested with a couple dozen itch mites. It was a little tight in the waist and arms, and could use a long slit on the side (she would cut it herself), but otherwise, it looked beautiful. She put on some lipstick, mascara and piled up her hair in a chignon just as Mr. Valencia had suggested, and smiled at what the mirror was saying. She looked beautiful. More beautiful even than Rose.

On Jae’s way to the Drama room, which for some reason was so far across the school, a few guys catcalled her while grabbing their crotches suggestively and a few girls looked at her with envy while others cheered her on. It was the whole Red carpet experience without the red carpet and the flash of cameras. The grey heels she was wearing made the journey seem longer than it actually was so that by the time she reached the Drama room, her ankles had their own heartbeat.

Jae opened the door to the Drama room, hoping to catch Tyler alone so that she could tell him about the pictures and blinked once, twice, thrice. She couldn’t believe what her eyes were seeing.

Because if her eyes were telling the truth, then it meant that Tyler and Sam were kissing.

Her freaking best friend and her not-so-secret boyfriend were kissing.

★★★

This is like a scene from a movie. Jae, in a wedding dress, watching her best friend and her not-so-secret boyfriend kissing.

Jae, Tyler, Rowan, Sam and Loise roped in a love triangle of sorts. Is it still a love triangle even? It's a love catastrophe.