The Extraordinary Wallflower

by Marissa Priddis

She'd never understood the word "wallflower."

She rarely reclined against walls, and she certainly wasn't a flower.

But she'd been called a wallflower enough in her life to know it was exactly how people saw her. Friends, teachers, her mother, her piano teacher in third grade. . . they had all called her a wallflower at one point or another.

So a wallflower she must be.

And yet, here she was, carefully applying stage makeup to her cheeks and trying not to think about her imminent stage debut in the annual school play.

Her hands shook as she carefully lined her eyes with kohl, trying not to think about the auditorium that was slowly filling up with classmates, families and teachers who were eager to see a performance of "She Stoops to Conquer."

Classmates, families and teachers who knew her only as that "quiet girl."

"The chick who reads all the time."

"That one girl. . . what's her name?"

She may not like the word, but wallflower was certainly what they all thought of her.

Not that she could blame them for thinking that of her. In her seventeen years, she couldn't think of a single thing she had ever done that was remarkable or amazing or even remotely noteworthy. She got good grades, she was an obedient daughter, and she'd never been called to the principal's office.

Some might call her boring. She preferred to think of herself as mature.

And yet, as graduation drew closer and the threat of college loomed in her mind, she felt the need to do something. . .

Extraordinary.

Her hands had shaken so badly the day of auditions that she had dropped her script twice. Her normally clear voice had wavered uncontrollably as she recited her memorized monologue. Her knees felt like a pair of castanets knocking together as she stood alone on the enormous stage.

She still didn't understand how she had been cast at all, much less as the lead character.

She was She. The one who stooped to conquer.

She'd never conquered anything.

And yet.

Carefully, she stepped into her period costume, only this time as she gazed into the mirror, she realized she looked ridiculous. In dress rehearsal, she had looked elegant and appropriate among all her similarly garbed castmates on stage. Now she just looked silly as she slowly twirled in front of the glass.

She heaved a deep sigh as she crept towards stage left, silently saying her lines over and over and over in her head.

What was she doing?

She was afraid to speak in front of others. She didn't like drawing attention to herself. She hated having people stare at her.

So why was she trussed up in a costume with fourteen pounds of cake makeup on her face, silently reciting line after line as she tried to block out the murmuring of the crowd in the auditorium?

She had wanted to do something extraordinary.

Fainting under the stage lights in front of the school would certainly be that.

Her breath quickened as she heard her scene approaching. Her cue to enter came closer and closer, like a freight train that couldn't stop despite the stalled car on the tracks.

"There's my pretty darling Kate!"

This was it.

Now or never.

Now or. . .

And without a second thought, the wallflower roared.

She strode onto stage, a smile on her face and her chin held high. Her voice had nary a waver as she said her first line, looking adoringly at her father - a boy who until two months ago hadn't known her name.

In a flash, she stopped being herself, and instead became She.

And She was about to conquer.

The fear was gone.

The embarrassment of being noticed had vanished.

Her need to hide had fled her mind altogether.

The moment those stage lights had lit her features, she knew she would never be the same.

She would be the wallflower that roared.

Extraordinary indeed.