Read Online The Downside of Being Charlie by Jenny Torres Sanchez - Free Book Online

as it turns out, Charlotte is a pretty terrific actress and makes everyone else look bad. Every day, all I can do is dread/look forward to sixth period. But things are a lot better when we get more class time to work on the project. Since everything else in my life sucks, the only thing that keeps me going is the time I spend with
Charlotte in drama. I read A Streetcar Named Desire and watched the movie right after Charlotte told me about it. She’s right, it is a pretty good play, but I can’t figure out if I hate Stanley because he’s a first-rate jerk or because the sight of him on the cover of the playbook makes Charlotte swoon. And I don’t know if this makes me one of the drama kids or not, but I finally get the whole STELLA! thing.
    â€œSo, you ready for your drama presentation today?” Dad asks me as I come into the kitchen on one of the rare mornings I catch him before he leaves for work. He’s always had to travel for work, but lately he’s had to a lot more, which means late nights and early mornings at the office when he is in town.
    â€œUh, yeah, I guess. I mean, at least it’s a partner thing, you know?”
    â€œYeah, takes the pressure off. Well, I’m sure you’ll do fine, Sport,” he says as he sets his coffee mug in the sink.
    â€œThanks, Dad. Oh, and your turn or mine?” I ask him since I can’t remember which one of us is supposed to fix dinner tonight. We’d fallen into this routine of who could fix the best tasting but still healthy meals since I got back from fat camp. It was Dad’s lame idea, and I hadn’t really been trying lately, but figured I could do it to make things a little less tense around here.
    â€œProbably another late night, so don’t worry about me,” he says. Ahmed honks the horn. “Good luck,” he says as I walk out the door.
    All day my stomach is in knots as I anticipate the presentation in drama. I’m pretty nervous, but Charlotte is calm as usual when I walk into class. She smiles as I
take deep breaths and try to relax. The anxiety from waiting is almost as bad as the actual standing in front of the class, and just when I absolutely can’t take the waiting anymore, Mrs. C finally calls us up. As I start summarizing the play, my voice has the usual weird shakiness whenever I get up here. No matter how much I try, I can’t make myself sound normal. I get tangled up in the story line and then for whatever reason I start rambling on and on about Tennessee Williams, at which point I notice people starting to doodle and scrape gum off their shoes. Those who are still paying attention look like I just asked them to explain the latest quantum physics theories complete with formulas and illustrations. I’m choking.
    â€œWhat Charlie means is . . . ,” Charlotte cuts in. She easily explains the rest of the play, leaving out some key events, but it’s still way better than all my stupid rambling. Mrs. C nods her head as she listens and scribbles notes.
    Charlotte goes on to explain our design, why we chose the colors we chose for the set, what kind of lighting we would incorporate, how it all adds to the mood, etc., with very little help from me. When I do speak, I feel like a parrot, echoing things she’s already said.
    â€œGood,” Mrs. C says when we’re done, “so, what did you guys think of Blanche?” she asks.
    â€œI can’t stand her,” Charlotte answers immediately.
    Mrs. C tilts her head to one side. “Most people can’t,” she says. “What about you, Charlie?”
    â€œWell, she is kind of annoying, but . . .” I shrug my shoulders, not knowing how to finish my thought.

    â€œGo on,” Mrs. C suggests.
    But Charlotte quickly takes over. “Come on, she’s basically this nymphomaniac who is superold, like thirty or forty or something and, you know . . . actually hooks up with one of her students. I mean