CHAPTER 10 – Changes (2)

Susan Carr, Operations Director of LAPA, was mid-meditation when the electronic bell on her office door buzzed.

For all the claustrophobia, hers was a privileged place with a single window, a meaningful contrast against the rest of the school’s windowless interior offices, for the windowed rooms were reserved for the students.

In the future, when their investors got around to it, a major renovation and reconstruction would take place, but for now, the ball was in CSULA’s court, and the campus authority was resistant to polluting their prestigious classrooms with the sound of heavy construction for two years.

Nonetheless, things were already better than the late 90s, when the school could barely afford to rent the necessary permits and rooms from the college. Thankfully, CSULA’s very significant endowment resulted in new apartments, condos, accommodations, food courts, as well as borderline corporate sponsorship that skirted the charter like a skilled skier, freeing up the old buildings for LAPA.

At the academic year’s opening, Carr’s job was the balancing of interests and balances. She was the slave of no less than five departments: Theatre, Cinematic Arts, Dance, Music, and Visual Arts, each with its own spreadsheet for budgets, personnel, equipment, and sponsorships.

I am a Contemporary Dance instructor, for Christ’s sake. I once starred in Dante’s Inferno. She fought to keep her eyes open as the numbers just kept coming on, row after row. Am I in hell? What did I do to deserve this?

When her meditation of self-extinction was disrupted, she was more glad than upset, for anything that took her mind off the conflagration of credit and debt was enough to keep her sanity intact.

Then the door opened, revealing the euphoric face of Euphenia “Eppie” Fontaine.

Her stomach dropped.

Eppie. Eppie. Eppie.

Lord knows what happened to Eppie for her to jump off the old school building’s hillside facade, but Susan wanted no part of it.

The shame on Principal Burton’s face when they had to tell him, together with the cold rage that VP Thomas radiated, was enough to make Susan wish she’d stayed and aged out of musical theatre.

There was nothing the school could do, VP Thomas had informed them. Principal Burton had demanded that at least something be done. The two had come to blows and—

When elephants fight, the grass gets trampled.

What could Susan do? She was just the Messenger.

And that was how Eppie Fontaine was resurrected at LAPA.

“Eppie, shouldn’t you be in class?” Susan pushed herself away from the accursed LCD screen, burning a hole through her frontal lobe. “Skipping school, first day of class?”

“Ma’am,” the girl’s smile bloomed like a sunflower. “I’d like to change a few courses, if you don’t mind. I learned quite a few things while at Sony, and I would like to have them applied.”

You were away at the hospital for a month, and it’s been three weeks since I visited. Susan fought down the desire to pierce through the girl’s bullshit. “I see. How can I help you?”

“I want to swap French for… AP Japanese, and Chemistry for AP Physics.”

Susan cocked her head. “You realise these are college-campus courses? You are a Sophomore. Does it make sense that you should apply for these, and mid-term as well?”

“Ma’am,” the girl looked utterly unfazed, which was certainly not how Susan recalled Euphemia in her Freshman year, because the girl was completely unmemorable. “I know my ability implicitly, and no. I am not doing the courses. I want the challenge exams.”

“Right…” Susan remained professional and polite. “Did you say challenge exams?”

“I did.”

Susan’s lips twitched. “Why are you dropping French? You spoke French. Not very well, mind you, but I recalled you spoke it.”

“I did?”

“Tu m’avais dit que le français était ta matière forte.” Susan was very proud of her French.

“I er…” the girl smacked her lips churlishly. “Maa, watashi no tokui kamoku wa Nihongo desu kara.”

The two stared, or glared, at one another until Susan felt an indescribable discomfort running up her spine.

“Eppie, what happened to you?” she allowed the sigh to escape. “How is this happening? Why do you know Japanese? We only started teaching Japanese last year.”

To Susan’s chagrin, Eppie made a puppy dog face, then touched a hand to her head. “I don’t know. I guess when they put Humpty Dumpty back together again, I was rebuilt differently.”

Susan’s whole body groaned. She didn’t want to deal with this.

She really, really, really didn’t want to be questioned about a tragedy she could do nothing about. When Luciana Mio had dropped out, she had nearly lost her mind. She didn’t want to grill the rich kids who looked at her like she was some sympathy-worthy government employee. She just wanted to organise concerts, produce and direct plays, speak to sponsors, and have luncheons with her peers in the business. She wanted the big hugs, the kisses, and the thank-yous to “OpCor Carr”.

“There are rules,” Susan relented. “You need a strong foundation in Algebra and Trig before you can do AP Physics in college. You also need approval from the course coordinator before we can even submit a course change request, which involves written, spoken, and listening components.”

All of which took TIME. TIME SHE DIDN’T HAVE. Susan stopped herself from lashing out to express her impotent frustration. The stress was so much that she could feel the wrinkles forming in real time on her flawlessly kept complexion.

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“I am aware.” The girl bowed her head at least. The girl really was a picture of pity, and if Susan did have a heart of stone, she wouldn’t have capitulated to VP Thomas’ request to be Eppie’s liaison. Just imagine if Eppie hadn’t taken up the offer. If she had to watch the girl wilt and waste away in that hospital, she would have gone home, hugged her dogs, then eaten two tubs of ice cream. “Please trust me?”

And so, the Director of Operations returned the girl’s expectant smile with one of her own.

“Alright. I’ll need some details to draft the request.” She walked them around her cluttered desk and made Eppie stand behind her while she clumsily navigated the software.

After penning a neutrally worded email to LAPA’s Academic Counsellor, CC: Dr Brimmer, VP Thomas and Principal Burton, and her French and Chemistry teachers, she pushed back from the chair.

“I’d still attend those classes for now, but you should get your approval, even if it’s at your own peril. VP Thomas, as you know, can be very accommodating when it comes to… you.” She wanted to give the girl a stern warning with her eyes, but paused when those same eyes rested upon the girl standing a few inches away.

Eppie looked… different.

She was obviously different because she was confident, carefree and a little scary compared to the Eppie of yesteryear, but she really was different.

Susan was a dancer. A very good one. Not the apex of her generation, but still nationally accredited. She knew the arts, she knew physiology, and she knew potential like the back of her hand.