Between Perfect and Real
145 pages
English

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145 pages
English

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Description

Dean Foster knows that he's a trans man. He's watched enough YouTube videos and done enough questioning to be sure. But everyone at his high school thinks he's a lesbian-including his girlfriend Zoe. Maybe he can just wait to openly transition until he's off at college. Besides, he's got enough to worry about: He's cast as Romeo in the school play (in what the theater teacher thinks is an interesting gender swap), he's falling in love with Zoe, and he's applying to the NYU theater program. It's not everything, but it's pretty good. But playing a boy every day in rehearsals, Dean realizes he wants everyone to see him as he really is now--not just on the stage, but everywhere in his life. Emboldened by stepping out on the stage as Romeo each day and the trans youth support group he's started attending, he knows what he needs to do. The only question remains: can he try to achieve everything he needs without losing all he has?

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 27 avril 2021
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781683359517
Langue English
Poids de l'ouvrage 1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

PUBLISHER S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for and may be obtained from the Library of Congress.
ISBN 978-1-4197-4601-7
eISBN 978-1-68335-951-7
Text copyright 2021 Ray Stoeve
Illustrations copyright 2021 Susan Haejin Lee
Book design by Hana Anouk Nakamura
Published in 2021 by Amulet Books, an imprint of ABRAMS. All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.
Amulet Books are available at special discounts when purchased in quantity for premiums and promotions as well as fundraising or educational use. Special editions can also be created to specification. For details, contact specialsales@abramsbooks.com or the address below.
Amulet Books is a registered trademark of Harry N. Abrams, Inc.
ABRAMS The Art of Books 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007 abramsbooks.com
For trans teens everywhere, and for teenage Ray. Who you are is right and good, and you deserve to be your fullest self.
ACT ONE
some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date with this night s revels, and expire the term of a despised life closed in my breast
-ROMEO
Romeo and Juliet , act 1, scene 4

CHAPTER TWO
I sit in the folding chair, waiting for my turn in the classroom. The monologue in my hands looks more like an accordion than a piece of paper, but I can t stop folding and unfolding it. I have it memorized backward and forward, but I brought it anyway, just in case I wanted to look at it before I go in.
What are you trying out for, Dean? Olivia sits down beside me. Her waist-length brown hair swings forward, spilling over her shoulders.
I look down at the paper in my hands. Lady Capulet, I guess. There aren t a lot of roles for women in Romeo and Juliet .
I know, right? She rolls her eyes.
What about you?
She smiles. I m going for Juliet.
Nice. I stare at the closed door. I want it to open, I want to get this over with. That s perfect for you.
Thanks. I just feel like it s senior year, you know? I want to play a lead before I graduate.
I nod. I want to play a lead too. But there never seems to be a lead role for me. Tomboy lesbians don t get a lot of parts in theatre.
Even though, at this point, I m pretty sure I m not a girl. Or a lesbian.
The door opens. Blake nods at me, smiles at Olivia. He s bulked up since the end of last year, his usually white skin sunburned. He looks like he should be out on the field with the Jefferson High football team instead of here auditioning for the school play. Olivia jumps up and they kiss.
Mr. Harrison appears behind them. He s got his trademark bow tie on, a purple-and-green plaid pattern today. Dean? He smiles at me. His British accent is crisp, like the paper in my hands before I held it. Come in.

Inside the classroom, it s just me and Mr. Harrison. I crumple the monologue and shove it into my back pocket. I ve been here before, just me standing in front of the whiteboard while he sits a few rows back, one leg crossed over the other, twirling a pen in his fingers, but this time feels different. I m not a scrawny, shaking freshman, a cocky sophomore, a jaded junior. Before, I never assumed I d get a lead. I was always excited just to audition, but I knew a lead was a long shot. The seniors always got the leads. A few times I got a major secondary role, like last year, in the gender-swapped version Neil Simon wrote of his famous play The Odd Couple . In that version, most of the main characters were girls instead of guys. I played Sylvie, a friend of the main characters, who were both played by seniors.
But now I have a chance. It s my turn to shine. To be the star.
How was your summer, Dean? Mr. Harrison asks.
Good.
He smiles. I ve got a few excerpts here of scenes from the play. We ll do a cold read first, then your monologue. He shuffles through the options as I wait. Ah, yes, how about this.
He stretches out a hand and I walk over, grabbing the paper and bringing it back to the open floor. I scan it: the scene where Romeo and Juliet meet. It s awkward reading a love scene with my teacher, but that s theatre for you.
Now, this excerpt doesn t mean I m considering you for Juliet, Mr. Harrison says. I know you know this, but I like to remind people it s just to see how you read in scene, and for me to get a feel for where I might cast you, whether for your chosen part or not. He looks at his clipboard. You re trying out for Lady Capulet, yes?
I nod.
Start from Romeo, Romeo, and we ll go from there to Romeo s line I would adventure for such merchandise.
I take a deep breath, and begin.
O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, and I ll no longer be a Capulet. I m acting with my voice, but I don t feel the words in my chest, the way I sometimes can when I really get into character. I know what Mr. Harrison just said about cold reads, but still, I m not much of a Juliet. I m sure he can see that. I m not Olivia with her sweet smile. And I m not much for the Nurse role either; I m not Olivia s best friend Courtney with her wisecracks. I m me: tall, skinny, white, less outgoing than Courtney, more outspoken than Olivia. I m the only girl in theatre-if I even am a girl-with short hair. I m wearing my red Converse, the heart on one toe where Zoe drew it this summer. Thinking of her makes me smile, and I try to channel it into my read.
The scene goes okay. I carry it off well enough with my expressiveness, even if I m not in character.
All right, Mr. Harrison says, taking the scene excerpt back from me. Are you ready for your monologue?
Yeah. I close my eyes, wiggling my fingers to get the shakes out. I m not actually nervous; I know I m a good actor. It s just the high stakes. Will he cast me as Lady Capulet? And if not, where else would he put me? I try not to think about the possibility that I might not get cast at all. That s happened to seniors in the past.
I look up. Mr. Harrison is watching me. Whenever you re ready.
I nod once, and then I launch into the monologue.
What say you? Can you love the gentleman? I ask, drawing my eyebrows together, pleading, pretending Mr. Harrison is Juliet. The monologue is in act one, scene three, before Romeo and Juliet have met, before the party, before the deaths. Lady Capulet asks Juliet if she s thought about marriage, and Juliet hasn t. Relatable. I mean, she s supposed to be what, like fourteen? Of course she s not thinking about marriage. But Lady Capulet presses on. This is what makes me think I can do this: She reminds me of my mom. Always pushing, always telling her kid what she wants and never asking Juliet what Juliet wants.
I sweep out my arms, extolling the delights of married love. This precious book of love, this unbound lover, to beautify him only lacks a cover! I m halfway through the monologue and I m flying. I m the most ridiculous version of my mother I can be, pleading one moment, swooning the next, never really listening. Mr. Harrison is smiling and chuckling.
I lower my voice as I approach the last line. I m earnest, my hands clasped over my heart, dreaming of my daughter s future. So shall you share all that he doth possess, by having him, making yourself no less.
I can kind of get on board with that part. I think it means that being with someone makes you better, like you become both part of them and more of yourself. I think. It s hard to tell with all the Shakespearean language. But that s how I feel when I m with Zoe: like I can be more of myself, like everything she is-smart, beautiful, funny, sweet, driven-lifts me up, makes me better. She s the girlfriend I always dreamed of having, all the way back to when I first realized I could date girls.
I grin at Mr. Harrison and bend into a deep bow, then straighten up. He claps. Excellent work!
Thanks.
I should have the cast list up soon. It ll be outside the theatre on the board, like usual. He looks at me over his glasses. Any questions?
I shake my head.
Wonderful. Send Olivia in on your way out, please.
You got it. I shoot him finger-guns and trot out of the classroom.

When I step outside the school, the early-September warmth wraps me up like a blanket. The classroom was cold, but out here, summer in Seattle is still hanging on, the last gasp before ritual death-by-drowning in fall rain. The first week of school is almost over. One down, so many more to go.
How d it go? Ronnie hops down from his perch on the bike rack. In the sunlight, his pink shirt glows bright against his warm black skin, the Oxford collar buttoned to the top. He promised me he d stick around for post-audition moral support.
I m still jazzed, riding high on performance adrenaline. So good, dude. I was like, in it. And I made him laugh!
Nice! He falls into step beside me. Who d you read for?
I tell him. He raises an eyebrow. And you want to play her? He s heard me complain about the lack of good female roles in theatre before.
I shrug. I don t really have much of a choice, right? Besides, I got into the monologue a little bit. I think it could be fun. I m gonna channel my mom.
He snorts. We walk away from the school, toward the busy road along the neighborhood s edge. I m starting to sweat in my hoodie, but I don t want to take it off. I m more comfortable when I have an extra layer between me and the world.
Besides, I don t really care what the role is as long as it s big, I say, looking over at him. A lead for senior year will look so good on colleg

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