Justification and Denial

Alexia was on the verge of collapsing. She had used up her resolve to stay functional and attentive during the final ten minutes of class. Only when she was spent did she recall her sister telling her that the two of them had to stay after school for an extra two hours. Alexia could not simply go home without her younger sister, as much as she wanted to, but unfortunately, the one holding the driver’s license also holds the responsibility for waiting. And so, with a final stumble, Alexia dropped her books on a long bench with a resigned sigh. She knew why she was forced to stay, and she was helpless to the fact. Her sister was attending the school musical rehearsal. Normally, Alexia wouldn’t have minded. She was used to failure by this time of the year, and getting cut from the play while her sister made the cast list was just another blow to a nerve which had been beaten to numbness long ago. Alexia had a job anyway. If she had made the list, then she would have had to quit her job, and she needed the money more than ever now that she was preparing for college. What bothered her were the pains she had taken to get into this show. Her school’s productions were nowhere near professional, attracting only friends and families of students, and no more. And since her school prohibited boys from auditioning, the script had to be chosen from a small pool of plays devoid of romance and masculinity. Alexia blew a wisp of hair from her face dejectedly. Sure, it wasn’t the best show. But it was her school, and she wanted to be a part of her final production before graduating. She had pulled strings to alter her physical education records so that she wouldn’t have to take a sport during the show season. Her swimming instructor was still slightly disappointed, but at the time, Alexia was certain her pains would be worth the effort. But, with reality’s strike still stinging across her cheek, how could she see any worth now? It was much too late for her to rejoin the swim team in the middle of the season, both for inconvenience purposes and for the disappointment which her coach undoubtedly still harbored.

Alexia absentmindedly collected a couple of binders. As long as she was at school, she might as well do homework. She was academically struggling, and constantly sleep deprived, as was expected of the only senior taking the maximum amount of classes; the only senior with no free periods whatsoever. Regardless, she forced herself down the stairs to the computer lab with homework in tow. Seniors had the privilege of taking the elevator, but Alexia was too self conscious about her gradually widening figure to pass up any opportunities to exercise. Behind her, she could hear show members discussing their lines. She rolled her eyes and proceeded with even footing. Why didn’t she get in anyway? All seniors knew that it was customary to let the graduating class have first dibs, since this was their last opportunity, but Alexia wasn’t going to coast by on privileges. She had reviewed the audition music the weekend before auditions, and practiced in her spare time. Her sister was sent panicking however because she put no time into learning the audition music, and presented herself before the director unprepared and stammering. Alexia put her all into the auditions, knowing fully that being a senior was no excuse for slacking off and taking a place in the cast list that wasn’t well deserved. She didn’t know what to think, being the only senior cut from the cast list. She rolled her eyes at the pitying faces of her peers, saying that there was a reason for her failure, and that she had no one to blame but herself. She ignored the complaints and consolations of her classmates, all saying that she had more talent than half of the cast list put together. She didn’t want their pity. She knew there was a reason. She could think of a few already.

She flopped down on a seat in the computer lab, spinning slowly in the chair. She dropped the binders on a table behind her respective computer. She must have done something wrong during the auditions. She did write on her availability sheet that she would be working two days a week at least, and the director might have been put off by the lack of commitment to the production. Alexia might have acted too much. Over-acting was just as unattractive as under-acting in the world of musical theater, or any theater for that matter. She might have given off the impression that she wasn’t taking the auditions seriously. During the dancing portion, she had plastered a cheesy grin on her face while performing the routine. She thought it was better than the blank, unsure expressions she had seen on the faces of more of the girls previously on stage. In Alexia’s mind, being ridiculous and confident was better than being sober and uncertain. Maybe the director preferred to see maturity instead of flair. Alexia knew that art was subjective, and there was no way to prepare for the opinion of a director. It was a wild card shot anyway. She smiled as she logged onto the computer, reassured that she hadn’t been cheated of her final opportunity.

The smile faded as she looked around the room. The computer lab was filled with cast members of the musical. A couple of students smiled apologetically at Alexia, whispering to her that musical rehearsal was taking place in the computer lab that day, and that non-cast had to leave. Alexia stared dumbly at the girls, then rapidly swerved her head to look at the music director, who nodded in the affirmative. Alexia took a deep breath and logged off the computer before she even had a chance to work on it. With a polite smile, she gathered up her binders and uttered an innocent apology, evenly walking out of the computer lab without a second glance back. Alexia stumbled up the staircase she had walked down only a minute or so before, her legs nearly giving way under her. Her blinks became longer and slower until she closed her eyes altogether, falling to the side onto the wall, clutching her binders to her chest. She dropped her head to rest on the wall, feeling the cold of the painted brick seep into her burning cheek. She felt no tears sting the back of her eyes, as she expected. She was too tired to cry. Breathlessly, almost soundlessly, she whispered into the air the words which had been suppressed deep into her chest through denial and smiles, through further pains, through the useless distraction of homework, something more that the musical had deemed null and void…

“It’s not fair.”