The furious glow in Mia Brown's cheeks hadn't faded since Professor Albright's class. "Can you believe that absolute asshole?" she fumed, pacing a narrow strip of the quad pavement, while James leaned against a lamppost, nursing a perpetually exasperated sigh. "Drama club! Me! And him! That arrogant, manipulative...!"
"Okay, okay, deep breaths, Mia," James said, pushing himself off the lamppost. "Though, I gotta admit, it was a pretty brilliant counter-move. For him."
"Brilliant? James, it was barbaric! He knows I despise anything that involves pretending to be someone else, let alone... emoting in public!" Mia shuddered dramatically. "And for him to use that ridiculous 'dearest friend' line, like we're about to skip through a field of daisies together!"
Their individual attempts at escape had already proven futile. Mia had tried reasoning with Ms. Dubois, citing a sudden, mysterious allergy to stage lights. Ms. Dubois, a veteran of student dramatics, had simply smiled benignly and suggested Mini might find the "therapeutic aspect of theatrical expression" quite beneficial. Kris, Mini heard through the grapevine, had attempted to pull a few strings through his family's university connections, but even the Dean seemed to defer to Ms. Dubois's passionate authority when it came to club "volunteers." They were stuck.
Mini stopped pacing abruptly, her eyes, usually fiery, softening into a calculated plea as she turned to James. "I can't do this alone, James."
James blinked, immediately wary. He knew that tone. It was the tone Mini used right before she asked him to help her move furniture, or brave a particularly terrifying horror movie, or – worst of all – engage in one of her more elaborate revenge schemes. "Do what alone, Mia? Audition for 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'?" He straightened up. "Look, I'll sneak you snacks, I'll wait outside with a getaway car, I'll even pretend to be a stagehand if you need me to cover for you."
"No, James, not just that," Mia said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper, "I need... emotional support. A familiar face in the chaos. Someone to share the misery with." She reached out and grasped his arm, her grip firm. "I need you to join the Drama Club with me."
James's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Me? You want me to join the Drama Club? Mia, you know I can barely recite my own name without tripping over my tongue, let alone Shakespeare!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "No way. Absolutely not. I draw the line at public humiliation."
Mini's expression remained fixed, a perfect blend of desperation and cunning. "Think of it, James. We're a team. We've faced down countless deadlines, survived Professor Albright's pop quizzes, we even navigated the freshman orientation maze together! This is just another challenge." She squeezed his arm. "Besides," she added, her voice dropping conspiratorially, "if you come with me, I promise... I'll even accompany you in the upcoming university 400-meter running race."
James blinked, then squinted. A slow, knowing smirk spread across his face. He knew Mini. He knew her aversion to anything that required sustained physical exertion, especially under the hot sun. He had witnessed her 'running' in P.E. classes, which mostly involved strategic dawdling and exaggerated panting. The idea of her willingly participating in a 400-meter race was about as believable as Kris Windsor volunteering for a charity event without being forced.
"Oh, really?" James drawled, one eyebrow arched high. "You? The girl who turns into a wilted flower after walking two blocks in summer? You'll run 400 meters... under the sun?" He shook his head slowly. "Mia, I know you. That's a flat-out lie."
"It is not!" Mia insisted, maybe a little too quickly. "I'm turning over a new leaf! Embracing new experiences! Building character!" She leaned in, her voice earnest. "Just think of the bonding, James. Me, running, sweating, pushing my limits... for you."
James stared at her for a long, skeptical moment. He saw the desperation in her eyes, the genuine need for moral support in what she clearly considered a personal hell. He also knew that Mini, for all her fiery independence, truly hated being alone in uncomfortable situations. And despite his own protests, he couldn't deny her. He always ended up doing what she wanted, especially when she brought out the "best friend in peril" act. He let out a long, suffering sigh.
"Fine," James conceded, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. But if I have to wear tights and recite sonnets, you owe me a lifetime supply of my favorite energy drinks and an apology to Ms. Davis for getting me into this mess."
A dazzling, genuine smile finally lit up Mia's face, replacing the calculating one. "You're the best, James!" she cheered, giving him a quick, relieved hug. "Now come on, the first meeting starts in ten. And trust me, you'll be needed."
And just like that, James, Mini's ever-loyal, ever-skeptical best friend, found himself reluctantly pulled into the bizarre orbit of the university Drama Club, right alongside Mia Brown and her archnemesis, Kris Windsor. The stage, it seemed, was set for three.