Stoic

“The Ides of March”
Written March 16th, 2008 (Excerpted)

I parked in Trung’s driveway and shot out of my car. Trung greeted me at his door, but we didn’t waste any time for anything else. I rushed up the stairs to Trung’s computer and found that the Internet was still logged onto Trung’s UCSD application account. There was a huge “Congratulations!” plastered on the page.

I sat down in the chair, logged out of Trung’s account, and logged onto mine, being extra careful to not make any typos that would further delay when I would find out the results.

While the page was loading, I turned to Trung, who was beside me now, and pulled him in closely. Ivan stood silently in the doorway, watching.

The page loaded. Trung and I immediately glued our eyes to the screen and began reading.

I didn’t have to spend a lot of time reading. The key words were already jumping out at me. I fell back into the chair. Trung was still reading the page.

“Trung,” I began, “You can stop reading. I didn’t get in. We’re not going to the same college.”
---

Six hours remained until the CADC roster would appear on the website. I still hadn’t received a call, and it was driving me crazy. I didn’t want to do anything all day; fortunately I didn’t have to really until I had my only class of the day from 6 to 7:20, social dance. I was thinking of telling the teacher that I was sick and highly contagious (which I really was) and sitting out, but I decided that it would be better to try to get my mind off the auditions at the cost of several other girls’ health.

When my turn came to dance with Hillary, one of the CADC captains, I knew that CADC wasn’t the subject to bring up. We chatted and bantered as we normally would, but there was still that sense of awkwardness that came from something that both of us tried to not bring up even though it was at the top of our minds.

I thought maybe, since three CADC auditionees shared the same class with one of the captains, if any one of us made it then maybe after class, that captain and the rest of the cabinet would come and congratulate us in person. But that didn’t happen. No one popped out from around the corner and Kevin, Alfonso, and I walked out of that class solemnly, still waiting for our calls.

At 7:30, we sat down at dinner and ate in silence. The anticipation was killing us; I could see it in Kevin and Alfonso’s faces and I could feel it in mine. Alfonso explained to us that he heard Hillary telling Jojo in class that she felt “bad for them,” and we debated what that possibly could have meant. Alfonso convinced that she was referring to us, and that she felt bad because the judges had chosen none of us.

“Fuck!” he yelled out. “What did we do wrong? The next time I see Hillary, I just want to ask her what we did wrong.”

Alfonso was normally a chill guy, and I really hated seeing him like this. I had always been really terrible at cheering people up, but I tried something. ““CADC likes to screw around with the people they accept,” I said. “Maybe Hillary wanted you to hear to mess with your mind. Or maybe you heard her wrong.”

Alfonso didn’t respond.

“Plus, you know David Lee? The really really good short Asian guy with the mohawk who’s definitely going to get in?” I asked. “I’ve been regularly checking his Facebook—stalkerish, I know, but whatever—he still hasn’t gotten a call yet either. So CADC is still in the process of making their calls. Don’t lose hope.”

Don’t lose hope. That sounded weird coming from me. I knew that out of the three of us, I was the least likely to get in, but at the same time, I needed as much comfort as Kevin and Alfonso did.

After dinner, Kevin left us to go study, and Alfonso and I met up with Asian John to attend the MCIA workshop at the Mesa Parking Garage. I also called up Sang to come join us. At the workshops, however, I could barely concentrate or put in any energy. Every five minutes or so I’d pull out my cell phone to make sure that I had reception and that I didn’t miss any calls. It was like I could only put my energy into that. I looked over at Alfonso and he looked back, and we both shared an understanding that this was not the night to learn a piece. He went over to the corner by the staircase, and I joined him. Asian John and Sang followed.

After the workshop finished around 9:30, we stood around outside in front of the garage discussing what to do. Alfonso was going to meet up with Kevin and some others at Panyia’s place at CV since our apartments at VDC and VDC Norte were going through a schedule power outage. Earlier during the day I had asked Sang to come wait with all of us and other CADC people for our phone calls, and he sounded excited about that. However, when I later met up with Kevin and Alfonso for class, Kevin expressed that he would rather not see any of the newly accepted dancers. I understood, but I didn’t want to abandon Sang, especially after dragging him out to the MCIA workshops. And plus, for the sake of my sanity, I had to be around someone happy and someone who wasn’t freaking the fuck out about CADC. Maybe it would make time pass by less slowly and less agonizingly.

Once the plans were settled, Alfonso and I shook hands and nodded at each other.

“Good luck, Alfonso.” I still had hope for Alfonso, so I thought of this moment as shaking hands and saying goodbye to the old, non-CADC Alfonso. Tomorrow when I would see him, he’d already be a new person.

Asian John followed Alfonso, and Sang and I went back to his dorm to chill. I sat on his bed as he checked his email at his desk. Being the curious hound I was, I tried to milk out every little detail about Sang’s acceptance phone call from CADC. I wanted to understand it enough so that I could live the experience like he did, but Sang fed me scraps. He only shrugged and smiled modestly.

“Fuck Sang! You made it into FUCKING CADC! You’re all going to have a formal dinner Thursday tomorrow and meet your family for the rest of the entire school year and possibly your entire college life! Why aren’t you more excited?” I demanded.

“I got a midterm Friday morning,” he responded coolly.

I sighed and shook my head. If I were him, I’d still be jumping off the walls and shitting in the showers like I was the shit. But instead, here I was. And here Sang was.

Around 10:15, I asked to use his computer to check David Lee’s facebook, and my heart raced as I read posts on his walls. There were congratulatory posts from his friends. Recent. Within the last fifteen minutes. I immediately texted Alfonso to tell him that David Lee just got in, and then I waited. If there was a call coming for me, it’d be coming within an hour.

11:15 came, and I was losing hope. Sang had gone from telling me, “Don’t worry, there’s still time. You’ll get a call!” to “Auditions for MCIA are coming up!”

I lied across his bed and he handed me a TV remote. I flipped through some channels and was temporarily excited to see Scully in big circular lens glasses and holding one of those big bulky 1990 cordless phones. It was the episode with the cockroaches. I watched as Sang recounted details about the drama that Funksters had last year. I don’t know how that came up; maybe he was telling me all that as a way cheering me up. I wouldn’t have to deal with the drama associated with dance crews. Big woohoo.

Around 11:40, I checked my email once again, not expecting much. But a certain email caught my eye. I read the title out loud to Sang: “To CADC Auditionee.”

That was it. I knew I wasn’t in. It definitely wasn’t an acceptance email, because they would only accept dancers by phone. And plus, there was something about the sound of “auditionee.” That eeeeeee sound. It sounded to calm and unexciting. I didn’t hesitate to open the email and read it, as I already knew what was inside. Yep, one fat paragraph of a rejection masked by apologies and cheap comfort words.

Sang waited for my response, but I only shrugged and forced a meek smile.

Examining the email again, I noticed that I could see a list of all of the people who received the email. I skimmed through looking for Kevin and Alfonso’s emails, and I was dismayed to see both of them in the list. I called Alfonso to tell him the news, and I kept it short because I didn’t know how to comfort him. The truth was the truth, and I had always been bad at masking it.

After I hung up, I leaned back and continued watching X-Files.

“Brian, how are you feeling?”

I thought about Sang’s question for a bit. Then I thought about it hard. I looked deep inside myself for an answer, for some soul. In my mind I flashed through three separate times that I should have cried this summer but refused to. That was when I made a stunning revelation that struck me harder than the actual rejection from CADC.

I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head.

“I don’t feel sad,” I began. “I don’t feel anything at all. Nothing.” I scoffed in disbelief. Nothing.

I had stifled my emotions for so long that I couldn’t even recognize them anymore. Something was wrong with me.