CHAPTER 4
At twelve thirty I walked to the school, went to the orientation and met with a counselor, who, by the way, was normal. She didn’t have a ring in her nose, tattoos or anything weird. Molly Rodan really made with the king’s jive. I mean, I liked listening to her talk. She spoke perfect English. I guess maybe that was because she was from England.
Anyway, she set up my schedule to take; history of the theater, speech I, make-up, costuming, music adaptation, fencing, and ballet. I made a face when she mentioned that dance class. I told her I didn’t want to take ballet, but she said it was mandatory. Then she placed me in her daily, three-hour afternoon drama class, which ended at ten minutes to six. I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to dally, after school, as I had to get
