The Passed Note Issue 7 June 2018 | Page 27

I wanted The Little Mermaid. Because I can’t say no, the music teacher casts me as Peter Pan. My short blond bob cut is only a few inches longer than Mary Martin’s in the Broadway musical, and I do love to sing. I refuse to do the “cock a doodle doo” though, so my friend Rodney does it in my place. I wear the green tights and shirt, the little green hat. I practice putting my hands on my hips with confidence, legs spread wide in what look like leftover Christmas elf shoes.

“You can fly, you can fly!” We all sing as I bound around my friend Jenn who plays Wendy because she can actually act and is quite possibly the prettiest girl in our class. The rest of our class stands on risers behind us, singing as strong as they can. I want to dive off the stage, let Tinkerbell sprinkle the large glitter pieces (pixie dust) on my head and just dive, but I know I won’t fly.

“I won’t grow up!” We start to sing as the lost boys build a fake house out of paper around Wendy.

“I don’t wanna go to school!” We all sing as I stand on a block and shake my finger.

“Just to learn to be a parrot and recite a silly rule.” Yet here we all are in the gymnasium of the church.

The same gymnasium where I will be three years

later dancing with my first boyfriend, our bodies

testing how it feels to be pressed against each other,,

with only the cotton of his shirt and my dress

between us. The principal will walk up and shove a