Center Stage looks bright from the Wings

It's not the first day and he really shouldn't be doing this. Again. Checking in on her like she doesn't know what she's doing, like she isn't going to be completely all right. She's perfectly fine, at ease at the head of the classroom. Her classroom. But he still watches through the window of the doorway anyway. He still waits until the class is over to poke his head in.

"How's it going, Ms. Petrova?"

"Everything is going well Mr. Lennox." It feels like she's back in high school again. Her heart skips a beat, every sappy love song seems to apply to her. Still, everything's different yet nothing has changed. Mischa calmly arranges a stack of papers on her desk then looks up at him with a smile. "How's the English classes going?"

"Funny thing how MacBeth always seems to draw the most attention out of the class," he chuckles, wandering over to her desk. "Some of my students have been asking about Cymbeline. I'm going to assume that's your doing," he asks, like he doesn't know the answer already. It has to be her; smart and witty and always pushing for changes that would stir things up to make them better.

Mischa grinned and shrugged innocently. "I may or may not have mentioned that it's one of Shakespeare's dirtiest plays and probably the most hilarious comedy. Plus, most of the jokes will go over their heads anyway."

"Thank you for that." There is no real bite to the words. He's glad that the students are getting interested in something off the beaten path. "I have to add it to the syllabus now because they just won't leave it alone." He makes his way to sit in one of the desks; front row and center seat, of course, because he is a glutton for punishment and simply cannot help himself around her. She's always... tested him. Jesus, he's supposed to be the adult here... "Remind me to return the favor."

"At least I'm not trying to push Avenue Q though I did have it playing when the students walked in. I believe the song that was playing was 'There's a Life Outside of Your Apartment." Mischa said with a laugh. "Although not completely relevant because most of these kids live in a penthouse and have never wanted for anything."

"I admire your restraint," he remarks, settling into the seat. "I'd have thought it would be 'Everyone's a Little Bit Racist'."

"That was playing because I was listening to the soundtrack when I got here insanely early to set up. I was hoping it would be playing when they walked in but alas, the uncultured youth of our society were too busy gabbing in the hallways to listen to the heavenly music that is Avenue Q. I guess some things never change. I saw Miss Hastings when I was coming in today. She told me to call her Spencer. It was weird." Mischa thought of the encounter and shook her head. "I never thought I'd hear those words come out of a teacher's mouth."

"Sweetheart, you realize you're a teacher now."

Mischa nodded. "It still doesn't make it any less weird. Jesus, do you people never leave this place?" She laughed. "I mean, seriously, I swear this place is like the twilight zone. Once you come here, you never leave. Ever."

"It sounds like someone hasn't gotten their complimentary coffin yet," he muses. "See, they go in that one big closet at the back of the room and that's where you go to hibernate over summer break."

Mischa laughed loudly. "I always wondered. It' like that one episode of Eerie Indiana with the Foreverware. That episode always creeped me out because I knew that it had to be true. Who'd of thought that it would be at my high school."

"There are a lot of things you'll learn about things that happened at your high school that you never thought were possible," he laughs, giving her a wink. Okay. Time to leave before he makes a fool of himself. Slipping out of the desk, he gives her a grin. "If I do start teaching Cymbeline, I'm going to give them some extra reading, I think; I know someone who wrote a modern take on it that was quite... enlightening."

Mischa looked up interested. "Have I read this modern take? It sounds like it's something I should read if I haven't."

"You wrote it."

Mischa looked shocked. "I wrote it?" She tried to think back to the analysis that she had written for her final term paper. It was more like a modern take on Cymbeline. She spent hours deciphering the text and putting it into modern terms. "I didn't think it was all that great."

"One of the best modern adaptations I've read," he points out and it's not like there are that many but her's is kind of head and shoulders above the rest. "Consider it payback," he adds with a wink.

Mischa shook her head. "You know, I just might put on one of those plays you wrote as the spring production if you're not careful. I thought they were brilliant by the way."

He just shakes his head at that, a smile stuck on his face. He's leaning against the desk now when he should be down the hall and out the doorway. He just doesn't have the strength. "What is the latest hit that you're planning to put on, by the by?"

"I was thinking Les Miserables for the fall musical. Then Romeo and Juliet for the winter show. I haven't made up my mind for the spring play yet but I'm thinking maybe The Crucible." Mischa said. "What do you think?"

"You're starting out very big with Les Mis," he points out. It's not a critique; he never critiques, he simply observes and lets people explain themselves, come to their own conclusions.

Mischa nodded. "I know. I figure that if the play goes well, we will have a good reputation. If it flops, then there's no where to go but up." She shrugged. "Either way, we win."

"Valid point," he nods. "And you have a strong enough gathering of students to fit all of the roles?"

Mischa took a deep breath. "Well hopefully, there's a few diamonds in the rough out there. And maybe I'll be willing to take a chance one one of them like a teacher did with me." She smiled at him.

"I hope that you find your diamonds, Mischa."