at Lily before he began to eat.
“So where’s your MC, Poppa Seward?” Lily asked, putting all her focus on him suddenly. “Monsieur Baptiste isn’t it?”
“He’s asleep.”
The answer had not come from Poppa. Lemarick Novel hadn’t looked up from his breakfast, but he had definitely answered the question. Lily looked at him again, at a relative loss for words.
“It’s a funny time to sleep,” she said as it came into her head, feeling everyone’s eyes on her at once.
“It is, isn’t it?” Novel replied, a piece of bacon hovering at his lips.
“I would have thought you students slept at all kinds of hours?” Zita interjected. Lily mentally thanked her for breaking up the atmosphere. “Is that not so?”
“Not if you actually want to attend classes on time, Zi,” Lawrence replied.
“And my boy does!” Poppa exclaimed. He gave him another slap, this time on the back. “Ho! He’s going to do good up at that school.”
“Well, I hope so,” Lawrence added with another bashful look at Jazzy. She was beaming at him, quite oblivious to the splodge of gravy on her lip.
“So long as it doesn’t interfere with rehearsals!” Dharma chided with a long-nailed fingertip in his direction. “I need to reschedule you all. Lemarick and I must have extra time to perfect the march, given the new circumstances.”
“I am not spending any more hours than necessary in rehearsal just because you’ve changed your costume,” Novel said with a groan. Lily found herself transfixed on his irate face once more.
“ You have changed my costume, not me!” Dharma said enraged, “Do you know he ripped all the feathers off it and threw them out of my window!”
“Peacock feathers bring bad luck to theatres,” Novel replied simply, as if that were enough to excuse him.
As he said it, his eyes came shooting down the table once again.
The Row Below
Lily had excused herself from the tour of the Theatre Imaginique, traipsing home through the park as the October wind bit at her ankles. When Jazzy returned, more than an hour later, she seemed to have had a fantastic time, but since she and Lawrence were both so painfully shy, neither one of them had made any plans to meet up again soon. They hadn’t even exchanged numbers. When Jazzy tried to quiz her on why she’d left early, Lily kept turning the conversation back to contriving a new meet-up with Lawrence for her, until Jazzy was forced to drop the subject all together.
In truth, Lily didn’t really know why she’d felt the need to leave, because from the moment she’d set foot outside the old theatre, all she’d wanted to do was go back in. Without his make-up Lemarick Novel should have been much less creeptastic, but there was something even stranger about seeing him without the powder mask. Everyone else who performed on the stage had quite lost their mystery once they sat down to a big roast dinner and started chatting like normal people, but Novel brought the room to a standstill with every innocuous thing he said.
And he kept giving me that look.
It wasn’t a look that Lily understood very well. There were obvious looks that guys gave you, the kind that said they wanted to get to know you better or just get you into their beds. There were also looks that told you someone didn’t like you, or was just putting up with you for the sake of politeness. Novel’s eyes said nothing like any of that. He reminded her of those moments when you catch a cat staring at something that you can’t see, and you wonder what they’re really looking at. That creepy feeling that they know something you don’t. She wondered what Novel knew, both hoping and not-hoping that the next show would help her to find out.
The October programme at the theatre was just as daring an endeavour as the previous month’s had been. The Slovak Twins forced the audience to cover their eyes in gut-wrenching horror as they swallowed thin, sharp blades, and played tricks on one
“So where’s your MC, Poppa Seward?” Lily asked, putting all her focus on him suddenly. “Monsieur Baptiste isn’t it?”
“He’s asleep.”
The answer had not come from Poppa. Lemarick Novel hadn’t looked up from his breakfast, but he had definitely answered the question. Lily looked at him again, at a relative loss for words.
“It’s a funny time to sleep,” she said as it came into her head, feeling everyone’s eyes on her at once.
“It is, isn’t it?” Novel replied, a piece of bacon hovering at his lips.
“I would have thought you students slept at all kinds of hours?” Zita interjected. Lily mentally thanked her for breaking up the atmosphere. “Is that not so?”
“Not if you actually want to attend classes on time, Zi,” Lawrence replied.
“And my boy does!” Poppa exclaimed. He gave him another slap, this time on the back. “Ho! He’s going to do good up at that school.”
“Well, I hope so,” Lawrence added with another bashful look at Jazzy. She was beaming at him, quite oblivious to the splodge of gravy on her lip.
“So long as it doesn’t interfere with rehearsals!” Dharma chided with a long-nailed fingertip in his direction. “I need to reschedule you all. Lemarick and I must have extra time to perfect the march, given the new circumstances.”
“I am not spending any more hours than necessary in rehearsal just because you’ve changed your costume,” Novel said with a groan. Lily found herself transfixed on his irate face once more.
“ You have changed my costume, not me!” Dharma said enraged, “Do you know he ripped all the feathers off it and threw them out of my window!”
“Peacock feathers bring bad luck to theatres,” Novel replied simply, as if that were enough to excuse him.
As he said it, his eyes came shooting down the table once again.
The Row Below
Lily had excused herself from the tour of the Theatre Imaginique, traipsing home through the park as the October wind bit at her ankles. When Jazzy returned, more than an hour later, she seemed to have had a fantastic time, but since she and Lawrence were both so painfully shy, neither one of them had made any plans to meet up again soon. They hadn’t even exchanged numbers. When Jazzy tried to quiz her on why she’d left early, Lily kept turning the conversation back to contriving a new meet-up with Lawrence for her, until Jazzy was forced to drop the subject all together.
In truth, Lily didn’t really know why she’d felt the need to leave, because from the moment she’d set foot outside the old theatre, all she’d wanted to do was go back in. Without his make-up Lemarick Novel should have been much less creeptastic, but there was something even stranger about seeing him without the powder mask. Everyone else who performed on the stage had quite lost their mystery once they sat down to a big roast dinner and started chatting like normal people, but Novel brought the room to a standstill with every innocuous thing he said.
And he kept giving me that look.
It wasn’t a look that Lily understood very well. There were obvious looks that guys gave you, the kind that said they wanted to get to know you better or just get you into their beds. There were also looks that told you someone didn’t like you, or was just putting up with you for the sake of politeness. Novel’s eyes said nothing like any of that. He reminded her of those moments when you catch a cat staring at something that you can’t see, and you wonder what they’re really looking at. That creepy feeling that they know something you don’t. She wondered what Novel knew, both hoping and not-hoping that the next show would help her to find out.
The October programme at the theatre was just as daring an endeavour as the previous month’s had been. The Slovak Twins forced the audience to cover their eyes in gut-wrenching horror as they swallowed thin, sharp blades, and played tricks on one
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