The Prince Of Cats

"Your coffee, sir." She said, cringing at the honorific. .

Melody had started the day in hopes that she'd stand up for herself, she'd even practiced in the mirror. But only ten minutes into today's rehearsal and she already had caved in. She felt pathetic.

"It's about goddamn time!" The director snapped while snatching the cup from her grip with force.

Melody felt the eyes of the entire cast falling onto her. Some searing with hate, judging her as a kiss-ass, some looking with pangs of sympathy. Mercutio was laying across the stage, mock eating a fake apple. He wasn't even in costume. Why wasn't he in costume? And where the heck was Tybalt? And how many times had she asked Lady Montague to leave her cellphone off stage? Melody took a deep breath and tried to focus. Check one box off at a time, she told herself. 

"Mr. Lang, I need to talk to you about the stage crew. They -"

"Sir." The director interjected, ignoring all other prompts.

"Excuse me?"

"You call me Sir during production hours." Mr. Lang, the full-time high school computer science teacher, part-time high school theater director piped as loud as he could.

The entire production was in shambles at this comment, as intended. The atmosphere was suddenly that of a rap battle that she found herself losing. Melody grumbled an apology and bolted from the auditorium, down the math wing of St. Declan's and out the security doors near the cafeteria. After wedging a ballpoint pen in the locking mechanism, she scanned the parking lot. Certain that she was completely alone, she proceeded to sob and then scream into her balled up sweatshirt until the rage inside her had translated into one part profound disappointment, one part bonafide sadness.

She heard gravel crunching a few feet away. She prepared to be scolded by Mr. Lang for showing emotion. Melody lifted her head enough to see a pair of legs like popsicle sticks wearing shorts that had been plugged into a pair of Nike Cortez's. She didn't dare look up any further.

"Are you alright?" The pair of popsicle sticks asked.

Melody looked up and found Tybalt standing, in costume from the waist up, ready for a lengthy jog from the waist down. He looked absurd but so did she. 

"The director is going to be mighty pissed that you're late and out of costume." Melody heard herself halfheartedly say in betweensniffles. 

Tybalt shrugged like a pampered prince and took his place leaning on the brick facade in a movement that was equal parts comradery and collusion.

"That’s nice. To hell with Walter Lang," he said.

The young man weighed his options for a few seconds while the lacrosse team chugged by in full armor and unison. When they were out of earshot he pivoted to face Melody.

"Do you trust me?" He asked earnestly.

"Not at all." Melody heard herself saying very quickly. "I saw you and Lady Capulet getting handsy last week in the upper mezzanine.” 

Tybalt put both hands up as if to say ‘please lower your voice.’

"Whoa now. Lady Montague would be awfully upset to hear such slanderous accusations about her nephew." Tybalt put his hand on the hilt of his sword and leaned in conspiratorially. "Do you want to get rid of Mr. Lang?"

Melody blurted "Are you going to kill him?!"

"What? No! What gives you that impression?"

"You just grabbed the hilt of your sword and asked if I wanted you to get rid of the computer science teacher!"

"Oh." Tybalt said, deflated but nodding. "I hear it, now."

"We can't get rid of him. He just got tenure. He's here to stay."

"Sure. But we've got a week until opening, right? And our cast is crumbling. Benvolio and Juliet just broke up after two years together, Friar Laurence won't talk to his best friend Romeo because Romeo hooked up with the Friar's girlfriend, and when I asked Mercutio if he was excited for his monologue, do you know what he did? Do you know what that asshat said? He shrugged it off and told me that he preferred to ‘keep things loosey goosey.’ And when I brought all of this to the attention of our esteemed director the man shrugged me off and said I should talk to you! He acts like he's some bigshot director. Like we're all real thespians and he's gonna save the world with our production. What a shmuck! I hope he goes on a cruise and gets tossed overboard! I hope someone steals his identity! I hope his Honda breaks down mid road trip and he has to thumb it home from West Bumblefuck, North Dakota! I hope --"

It was then that Melody had grabbed Tybalt by the frills of his coat, pulled him in and kissed him hard, interrupting his rant mid sentence. Life was funny that way, she thought. A few minutes ago she'd been hyperventilating into her sweatshirt and now she was chest to chest with Tybalt, The Prince Of Cats. His eyes had specs of green that she'd never noticed before.

"Do you trust me?" He said again, this time quieter and sweeter.

She nodded her head with vigor and they walked away from the school in unison towards Tybalt's car, hand in hand.

"Here's your sandwich, sir." Melody said, ten minutes later.

Director Lang eyed Melody with contempt, snatched the sandwich and shooed her away without a word. She watched from a distance as he bit into his sandwich. The same sandwich with mayo that had broiled in Tybalt’s car all day in the unseasonal June heat. With delight, she watched him chew and swallow, then set off to settle a labor dispute with the head of stage crew. 

The following is an excerpt from St. Declan Of The Valley's monthly student publication, The Saint Declan Cultivator, published late June the same year:

"Under the direction of senior Melody Gallagher this year's production of Romeo & Juliet will be remembered as one of the best plays to ever touch our school’s storied stage! After losing their director, beloved computer teacher Mr. Lang, to an unfortunate sandwich related food poisoning, assistant director Gallagher stepped into the role with an unbridled zeal long unseen. Sources close to the production claim that Gallagher ran a tight house and that the director even went as far as to recast Mercutio with only a week until curtains after the actor in question refused to recite his famed monologue. When asked about the incident the director was quoted as saying ‘He had two jobs. To make a speech and get stabbed. Anyways, there’s no room for “playing it loosey goosey” in Shakespeare.’ This reporter is inclined to agree.” 

At time of publication, computer science teacher Mr. Lang is reported to be making a speedy recovery at Our Lady of Sovereign Justice’s Intestinal Trauma Ward. The nuns who run the local hospital would answer no questions about the educator's health, citing that they ‘only answer to the Lord.’

Actor and junior Zachary Doyle, who played Tybalt, had this to say. ‘Melody is a force of nature. An absolute visionary. It just goes to show that students should have more control of their own student theater, yanno? Anyways, the cast and crew all voted. And we all agreed, starting next year a student is going to be the director. Just feels better that way.' When asked about tradition the actor thought hard, shrugged and said ‘That’s just the thing about traditions, they need a starting point.’”