20. Mean Girls
The school musical runs the first weekend of March. On Friday night, all Tiffin students are required to attend.
At the entrance to the auditorium, Madison J.
hands out programs. Students normally come to the auditorium for second-run movies and assemblies—guest speakers, the ill-fated hypnotist, a visiting local author who read for an entire hour (fifty-nine minutes too long)—but tonight, the usual laughing, roughhousing, and jockeying for seats are replaced by respectful whispers and an underlying thrum of anticipation: Everyone wants the cast to succeed.
Davi buys a pack of Twizzlers from the concession stand but Charley grimaces and says, “I hate licorice.”
“I wasn’t planning on sharing,” Davi says.
They find seats close to the stage but far enough back that they won’t have to crane their necks. The other girls from their floor—those who aren’t in the cast—have claimed the front row of the balcony, but Davi has no interest in joining them.
Davi stands back and lets Charley sit. “I’m an aisle hog, sorry.”
When the house lights dim, the audience goes wild.
Mr. Chuy comes out onstage and runs through etiquette reminders: No catcalling, no cell phone usage of any kind, but especially no flash and no name-shouting.
“I know it’s rousing to see your classmates onstage when you’re used to seeing them in the Paddock and the dorms,” he says, “but it’s distracting and may cause our actors to involuntarily break character, which no one wants to see happen.
” He brings his hands to prayer. “Thank you in advance for your courtesy and attention. And now, it is our pleasure to bring you… Mean Girls !”
During the ensuing cheers, Davi tears open the package of licorice and shoves a piece in her mouth while Charley tries to mask her revulsion; it smells like plastic.
When the curtain lifts, all thoughts of licorice and Mr. Chuy’s unfortunate choice of the word rousing evaporate and Charley becomes engrossed by what’s unfolding onstage.
She has seen the movie Mean Girls, though it’s not a religion for her the way it apparently is for Davi.
(“I can recite every line verbatim,” Davi said earlier. “Please don’t,” Charley replied.)
Taylor Wilson is a natural as Cady Heron, the new student who shows up straight from Africa.
(This has always seemed like such a random thread of the plot to Charley.
Whose parents are zoologists ?) Ravenna Rapsicoli is serviceable as Janis, though Charley fidgets in her seat, wanting to shout out director’s notes: Clearer!
Snarkier! She feels like she’s watching her own child onstage.
The most curious casting, of course, is Olivia H-T as Regina George.
However, the second Olivia steps onstage, she commands attention.
Her carriage is haughty, her tone catty but somehow not abrasive.
She’s trailed by her lackeys Gretchen (Willow Levy) and Karen (Annabelle Tuckerman, who plays a bubblehead with sharp comic timing).
With each passing scene, Charley grows more and more uncomfortable.
She can’t help feeling that, in her portrayal of Regina George, Olivia H-T is channeling Davi.
Davi is, after all, Tiffin’s queen bee. Davi makes the rules, not anything as overt as “On Wednesdays, we wear pink,” but she sets the agenda and influences the school’s taste in all things.
Charley sneaks a look at Davi, who is stuffing licorice in her mouth while watching the stage.
She seems unbothered, but can she be blind to the parallels?
Is anyone else in the audience connecting the dots between Regina George and Davi?
Then Charley is struck with an even worse thought: If Davi is Regina George, then Charley is Cady Heron, the new girl who shows up from a faraway land (such as Towson, Maryland) and gets sucked into Regina’s orbit.
Is Charley being ridiculous? She can’t tell.
She wishes East were here. The “entire” school is required to attend the musical—skipping it would result in a missed commitment—but East is, as ever, exempt from this rule.
Charley knows he’s down in the bomb shelter installing trim around the doorframes and replacing the industrial stainless steel sink with a hammered copper basin.
During intermission, Davi stands up and stretches. “I’m getting Milk Duds,” she says. “Want anything?”
“No, thanks,” Charley says.
Backstage, Olivia H-T is so high on adrenaline she feels like she’s levitating.
The audience loves the show. They love her.
Olivia H-T only cares what Davi thinks. Olivia H-T projects all her lines toward Davi; she sings every song for Davi.
And for Charley as well. Olivia wants Charley to realize that Olivia is a force.
In the second act, during Olivia’s big number, “World Burn,” Davi gets up and walks out of the auditorium.
Olivia H-T tries not to let her attention wander; she needs to stay locked in, maybe it wasn’t Davi, maybe it was someone else who left, the lights are in Olivia’s eyes, and she has to focus on hitting her notes.
But when the song ends and the audience cheers, Olivia H-T sees that Davi’s seat is empty and Charley’s neck is craned toward the exit. Then Charley too gets up and leaves.
What the fuck ? Olivia H-T thinks.
Charley checks the girls’ room outside the auditorium but finds only third-former Cassie Lee crying to one of her little friends. “Hakeem can’t stop saying how good Taylor’s acting is!” Cassie says. “I’m so over it!”
Charley checks the bathroom upstairs next to the Grille. Empty.
She rushes outside and runs down the path to the Sink. She takes the stairs two at a time and pushes into the third-floor bathroom in time to hear the strangled sound of Davi purging.
Charley waits in silence until Davi emerges.
“Fuck,” Davi says.
“I’m not standing by one more day.” Charley’s eyes burn with tears.
“You need help.” Davi’s skin is gray and all she wears now are oversize sweatshirts so nobody will see how thin she’s getting.
“If you don’t seek help tonight, I’ll tell someone.
I’ll tell Miss Bergeron and Ms. Robinson. I’ll tell the whole school.”
Davi stares at Charley in the mirror. She wants to tell her to go to hell. Charley doesn’t need to save Davi. It’s the other way around—Davi’s saving Charley from being the single weirdest person ever to attend Tiffin.
But the thing is, Davi wants to stop purging.
The licorice came back up in lurid red clumps, nearly choking her.
Her teeth feel perpetually furry and she’s pretty sure she’s destroying the lining of her esophagus.
Maybe the resentment she’s feeling toward Charley right now is just her denial of the obvious: She has to stop.
“Okay,” she says. “I will.”
“You can’t just tell me that and…”
“Charley,” she says. “I promise.”
When Davi and Charley walk into Classic South, everyone is giving Taylor and Olivia H-T their flowers, literally and figuratively. Olivia H-T is still in her stage makeup and her costume.
Charley squeezes Davi’s hand, then retires to her room. Davi navigates the mayhem, grateful that in all the celebration, no one noticed she and Charley were missing.
Miss Bergeron enters with a box of cheeseburgers and fried chicken sandwiches, courtesy of Chef Haz. “Feast in the common room!” she says.
Davi slips into her room and closes the door. She gazes at her pink neon wall sign that reads THIS IS WHERE THE MAGIC HAPPENS and thinks, I’m such a phony.
She opens her laptop and composes an email to Dr. Pringle, the school psychologist. He and Davi had a series of conversations after Cinnamon died. The last time they spoke, Dr. Pringle patted Davi on the shoulder and said, “You’re a well-wrapped young lady, Davi Banerjee.”
This is one of the best compliments Davi has ever received. Well-wrapped: It spoke to her curated appearance but also acknowledged that her insides were in order, her priorities straight, her vision unclouded.
In the subject line, Davi types: Unwrapped.
Dear Dr. Pringle—
I’d like to schedule an appointment to chat on Monday if possible.
Davi stares at the blinking cursor. Dr. Pringle obviously knows about Cinnamon and also about Davi’s dreadful PSAT score, but he knows nothing about the situation with her parents. Davi shudders as she imagines telling him.
What Davi wants is a referral to someone else, a stranger.
Since the start of the school year, I’ve had trouble keeping food down. I wouldn’t say I have a full-blown eating disorder, but I should probably talk to someone before it gets any worse. I’m hoping you can refer me to a specialist? My free period is D or I can make myself available after school.
Thank you.
Davi Banerjee
Just as Davi hits send, the door to her room flies open and Olivia H-T steps in.
Davi blinks: Normally, girls on the floor knock before they come into Davi’s room in case she’s filming a TikTok.
Being the star of the musical has given Olivia H-T some moxie (“force of character, nerve”).
Her eyes are flashing, her cheeks blaze bright pink—or maybe that’s just her makeup.
“Hey,” Davi says. She quickly checks the screen: message sent. Then she pauses. Did Charley tell Olivia H-T?
“You left the show,” Olivia H-T says. “Right in the middle of my song.”
So much for leaving undetected, Davi thinks. “I know, sorry. I had to go to the bathroom, then it was so close to the end, I didn’t think it was worth disrupting to come back in.”
Olivia H-T glares at her. “You’ll come back tomorrow night?”
Again? Davi thinks. Saturday night the musical opens to the public; all the olds from Haydensboro and Capulet Falls come.
“My cousin Roddick will be there,” Olivia H-T says.
Roddick: the cute singer from last year’s Tiffinpalooza. It’s tempting, sort of.
“Thanks,” Davi says. “But I have to study.”
“Don’t you want to see the end of the show?” Olivia asks.