The Boyfriend List

Dramarama -- opening scene

An excerpt from DRAMARAMA, by E. Lockhart, in stores May 2007.
From the beginning.

Transcript of a microcassette recording:

Demi: Is it on?
Sadye: That red light is supposed to glow.
Demi: It is glowing.
Sadye: No, it's not.
Demi: Yes it is. You can't see because of the angle.
Sadye: Stop it and check.

(thump thumpy thump, click click)

Demi: Ha HA! Let the record show that I was right.
Sadye: (Silence.)
Demi: Come, now. Give me some credit. The light was way on.
Sadye: (all fancy) Let's begin, shall we?
Demi: Of course, darling. But I was right.
Sadye: Here goes. It is June 24th and we, Douglas B. Howard Junior –
Demi: Demi!
Sadye: -- known to those who love him as Demi --
Demi: (interrupting) -- and Sarah Paulson, known to those who worship and lust after her as Sadye --
Sadye: Correction: known only to herself and Demi as Sadye --
Demi: (interrupting again) – that's SAY-dee, s-a-d-y-e, and don't you spell it wrong 'cause she's gonna be famous one day –
Sadye: -- are here in the back of the Paulson mini-van --
Demi: --talking into a teeny-weeny journalist-type cassette recorder.
Sadye: Micro.
Demi: Talking into a micro-cassette recorder to document the all-important fact that we are leaving Brenton, Ohio.
Sadye: Wooohooo!
Demi: We do not have to live in that Brenton suckiness for eight whole weeks.
Sadye: Goodbye, oh, dowdy math teachers! Goodbye, oh mean cheerleaders! Goodbye, no-neck jock contingent, boring do-gooders and juvenile delinquents!
Demi: Goodbye, stupid shopping mall! Goodbye, awful hairstyles!
Sadye: Goodbye, shallow, vacant members of the junior class and flat green lawns of suburbia! Goodbye, goodbye, and good riddance!
Demi: (singing) If ya don't mind having to live in Brenton… it's a fine life!
Sadye: (singing back-up) It's a fine life!
Demi: If ya don't mind prejudice, pain and boredom… it's a fine life!
Sadye: It's a fine life!

(Obvious and intentional parental coughing from the front seat of the mini-van, where Sadye's dad is driving. )

Mr. Paulson: A little less noise from the peanut gallery, thank you.
Sadye: Sorry, Dad.
Demi: Sorry, Mr. Paulson. It was Oliver.
Sadye: Oliver, the Brenton version.
Mr. Paulson: Oliver or no Oliver, you two are blowing my ears out.
Demi: Hey, do we have the new Broadway cast album in here?
Sayde: I think so. I packed it. Dad, can you find it?
Mr. Paulson: What?
Sadye: The Oliver CD. Duh.

(Mr. Paulson puts the CD in the minivan stereo)

Demi: I used to be a boy soprano.
Sadye: We know, we know.
Demi: Now I have to do it in falsetto.

(He attempts to sing a few bars of "Food, Glorious Food" along with the boy sopranos of the Oliver cast)

Sadye: Give it up, darling. You sound like Frankie Valli.
Demi: I'll take that as a compliment.
Sadye: Hah!
Demi: What? I love Jersey Boys. I'm all about Jersey Boys.
Sadye: Frankie Valli on crack.
Demi: Oh, shush your mouth. I'll be the first black man to play Frankie on Broadway. You watch me.

(They ride in silence for a minute. Demi eats potato chips out of a bag.)

Demi: Three more hours, and we'll be in heaven.
Sadye: Wildewood.
Demi: Like I said. Heaven.
Sadye: You're messing our tape up! Posterity will be confused.
Demi: Okay, say it right, then.
Sadye: Demi and I will be attending the Wildewood Academy of Performing Arts, summer theater institute, 2005.
Demi: We are gonna take over that place. Absolutely rule it.
Sadye: You think?
Demi: Oh, yeah. We'll be stars.
Sadye: Don't be under-confident, now.
Demi: Ha ha.
Sadye: Your lips are chapped.
Demi: We will. Be. Stars. I am predicting it, and I will make it so.
Sadye: I said, your lips are chapped.
Demi: Are you trying to deflate my ego? Because it will not be deflated.
Sadye: (laughs)
Demi: That thing is puncture-proof, baby.
Sadye: No, really. you need some lip balm.
Demi: Do you have? Give it here. Ooh, green apple flavor.
Sadye: Turn off the micro cassette. We've degenerated.
Demi: True. All of posterity does not need to hear about my chapped lips.

(click)

Demi.
My co-conspirator. My first true friend. A spirit made of equal parts ambition and razzle dazzle. A big baritone that slides easily into falsetto. And a future as bright as the lights on 42nd street.

Demi believed the Wildewood summer institute would be heaven. Believed he would be King there, and I would be Queen, and we would live all summer in utter fabulousness.

And he was right -- about himself, at least.

Dramarama -- watching the auditions

From Dramarama, by E. Lockhart. In stores May 2007.

Sadye and Demi, along with their new friend Nanette, are watching start-of-the-summer auditions at the Wildewood Summer Theater Institute.
Sadye is our narrator -- highly opinionated, heterosexual, gawky, and wicked smart.
Demi is her best friend -- massively talented, flamboyantly gay, ambitious.
Nanette is a professional child -- she's spent years on Broadway and in national tours of various musicals.
They are recording themselves for posterity on a microcassette.

(click…buzz of people whispering, sound of piano in the background thumping out "All That Jazz" over and over)

Demi: (sotto voce) Ooh, you brought the mini recorder!
Sadye: (whispering) Micro.
Demi: Whatever. Okay, the date is June 26, and we're watching the dance combinations that go before Preliminary Monologues and Songs.
Sadye: In other words, we're at the Meat Market.
Demi: But I know what meat I want already. I want that Boston meat.
Sadye: Gross!
Demi: You're right. That did sound gross.
Sadye: Don't get distracted by meat. Tell posterity what is happening.
Demi: People are dancing onstage. Monsieur le petit Howard has decided not to sing "Manchester, England."
Sadye: You what?
Demi: I brought extra sheet music, in case I needed to change.
Sadye: I would never have thought of that. What are you changing to?
Nanette : (leaning in to look at the micro cassette recorder) Is that machine on? What are you doing?
Demi: We're recording our experiences for posterity.
Sadye: In case we're famous some day.
Demi: Because we'll be famous some day.
Sadye: It's like a document.

Demi: I’m a seat away from Nanette …hey, what's your last name?
Nanette : (no response, watching the dancers)
Sadye: Nanette, Demi wants to know, what's your last name?
Nanette : Wypejewski, but I go by Watson. It's easier to remember.
Demi: Maybe she should just be Nanette, with no last name.
Sadye: That's a bit much, don't you think?
Demi: Anyway, Nanette Watson is here with us, and behind me is Lyle, former first mate of the Jolly Roger.
Sadye: (watching the dancers, too) Even the best guys lose their appeal when you see them trying to dance. It's skewing my meat market experience.
Nanette : You are so right. Is that your Theo guy?
Sadye: Number 43.
Nanette : So do you like him, or what?
Sadye: What do you think? Do you think he's cute?
Demi: You asked me that yesterday.
Sadye: So?
Demi: He dances like a straight boy.
Sadye: That's because he's straight.
Demi: He doesn't have to dance like it. There's no call for that.

Sadye: But do you approve, is what I'm saying.
Demi: Miss Sadye, you act like personality isn't important. You act like I'd judge a book by its cover!
Sadye: Yeah, yeah, yeah. What do you think of his cover, though?
Demi: His pants are too baggy. I can't see his buns. Maybe he's hiding something under there.
Sadye: Demi!
Demi: You asked!
Sadye: He's not hiding anything, sheesh.
Demi: How do you know? He is most certainly keeping the shape of his buns a secret.
Sadye: He can play anything you want on the piano. Anything.
Demi: I'm reserving judgment until he wears some tighter pants.
Sadye: Shut up.
Demi: I can tell you like him. That was a test just now, to see if you got upset. If you got upset that meant you really liked him.
Sadye: Right.
Demi: You passed, by the way.

Sadye: I need a plan to make him notice me. It's like he noticed me, noticed me again, and then un-noticed me.
Nanette : He un-noticed you?
Sadye: Exactly. Reverse noticing. Anti-noticing.
Nanette : So now you need him to re-notice you.
Sadye: Yeah.
Nanette : One thing I do when I'm auditioning is wear this long scarf, see? It helps give directors a way to remember me easily. The girl in the scarf, if they can't remember my name.
Sadye: I'm not going to wear a scarf. It's like 80 degrees out.
Nanette : It was an idea. Not a scarf. Something like a scarf.
Sadye: Whatever.

Nanette : Oh, there's Kenickie. He's a hetero boy.
Demi: Who's Kenickie?
Sadye: Number 61. His real name is James. I danced with him yesterday.
Demi: He dances like a Timberlake. That's not theater dancing.
Nanette : He's the one that likes mint chocolate chip.
Demi: What?
Sadye: You missed it. I'm mint chocolate chip ice cream. As opposed to Brenton-variety vanilla.
Demi: So he has a thing for you?
Nanette : Yes.
Sadye: No.
Demi: Which is it?
Sadye: Iz thinks I'm his type. And he asked me to dance.
Demi: Oooh! The Timberlakian.
Sadye: You're going to turn me off him if you keep saying that.
Demi: Timberlakian, Timberlakian!
Sadye: Shut up!

Demi: He's okay, but I thought you liked the one that hides his buns.
Nanette : Kenickie has nice buns, but he's not my type.
Demi: What do you think, Sadye. Do you like the Timberlakian buns?
Sadye: At least he danced with me.
Nanette : Go where the bread is buttered, that's what I say.
Sadye: No one said it was buttered, though.
Nanette : Iz thinks it is.
Demi: The Timberlakian is covered in butter, Sadye! And the bun-hiding guy – he's like dry toast, that's what he is.
Sadye: (Sighing) Let's return to our posterity agenda.
Demi: Fine, if we must.
Nanette: If we must.

Sadye: For the record, let it show that I am doing my anti-Kristinish "Popular" and Juliet, same as before. Nanette, what are you doing?
Nanette : "Tomorrow" from Annie. And The Bad Seed for the monologue.
Sadye: And Demi, what are you doing, if you're not doing "Manchester"?
Demi: I think I have to shake it. So I don't get stuck with "Ol' Man River."
Sadye: Shake what?
Demi: My booty.
Sadye: You are obsessed with buns, today.
Demi: Not just today, darling.
Sadye: So what are you singing?
Demi: Wait and see.
Sadye: What?
Demi: That's all I'm saying.
Sadye: If you're not going to tell your audition piece to the microcassette, I'm turning it off.
Demi: Ooh, look at Iz. She can dance. Oh, and poor, poor Candie.

(silence, with only the sound of "All That Jazz," still coming from the piano.)