by Laura DeLuca
“Hey, why are you ladies trying to keep these places all to yourself?” Justyn asked the older woman beside him. “I think a lot more guys would come if they knew it was like this.”
A few people, both clients and manicurists, giggled as Justyn, his face serious, handed over his black nail polish to his attendant and gave her explicit instructions on exactly how he liked it applied. As he spoke, the girl who had already started to file Rebecca’s toenails tapped her ankle to get her attention. When Rebecca looked down, the girl whispered to her in an almost conspirative voice.
“Hey, you friend … he gay? Boy who dress like dat have to be gay.”
Rebecca laughed so hard she actually had to wipe a few tears from her eyes. “No,” she finally managed to say when she caught her breath. When the attendant kept staring at her expectantly, she added, “Not at all. He’s my boyfriend.”
The attendant shook her head. “If he no gay, he must be kinky. You sure he no swinging on both sides of da fence?”
“Pretty sure,” Rebecca told her.
The girl looked unconvinced as she tucked her long black hair behind her shoulders. “I not understand what nice girl like you do with freaky boy toy like dat.”
That time Rebecca tried to cover her giggles, but that only managed to make it come out more like a snort. The whole room turned to look at her. Even Justyn stopped chatting with his own stylist to give her a quizzical glance. She just shook her head, and he seemed so relieved to see her laughing, he really didn’t even care what it was about. Rebecca was having so much fun, she couldn’t even imagine the day getting any better. But Justyn could always improve any situation with his sweet, almost angelic voice. She found herself feeling almost as fluttery as the first time she met him when he reached across the massage chairs to hold her hand and began an unexpected serenade.
“Pretty ladies, filled with sweet grace.
Watching them dance makes the heart race.
Pretty ladies, always flirting.
When their eyelids flutter, it’s so diverting.
Though we may be bound for Hades.
We all still yearn for pretty ladies”
Though he normally sang the ballad with Chad as a prelude to killing Judge Turpin, he still made the song seem romantic. Eventually, Rebecca joined in for the chorus, naturally transposing the song an octave higher so it would be in her voice range, and harmonizing perfectly with him. When they were finished, several people clapped, but Rebecca’s attendant only rolled her almond-shaped eyes as she massaged her legs and toes.
“You two from dat art school?” she asked.
Rebecca nodded. “Yep.”
She shook her head. “Well, dat explain everyting.”
That time, Justyn overheard her, and they both laughed. Aside from that one girl, everyone else was impressed with the impromptu performance. Yet it was one of the male attendants, currently without a client, who seemed the most excited. He jumped from his seat with a wide grin on his face.
“You like sing?” he asked. “You wait here. I be right back.”
He didn’t wait for a reply before disappearing behind a door at the back of the store. Justyn shrugged, and they waited for him to reappear. It was only a few minutes later that he emerged with an acoustic guitar in his hands. He strummed a few chords with expert fingers and looked at them expectedly.
“We all sing now,” he instructed. “You know American Pie?”
It seemed like a strange selection, but Justyn nodded. “Who doesn’t?”
The man started to strum the chords of American Pie on his guitar in a way that would have made Don McLean proud. Of course, his accent made his singing sound a little off, but it was all in good fun. Soon the whole salon was joining in for the chorus. A few of the snooty housewives even risked chipping their newly painted manicures to clap in time to the music. It was more fun than Rebecca could have ever imagined and a day that ranked right up there with their first date in Atlantic City when he had taken her to see Darlene belly dance for the first time.
Hours later, when she was snuggled up beside Justyn on the loveseat, watching a silly romantic comedy, she felt that same happy glow. He kept his arms wrapped around her, but after a while, she noticed him flinch and try to stretch out his arm. She adjusted so she was sitting behind him, and lifted her hands to massage his shoulders. He leaned back, instantly relaxing, as her hands stroked his skin.
“This is another thing I really missed this past week.” He sighed. “But it certainly taught me not to take you for granted.”
“Who are you kidding? You never take anything for granted. But seriously.” She brushed a loose strand of hair out of his eyes. “I feel really bad that you’ve been hurting these last few days. I think you should sleep in the bed tonight.”
He turned to give her a cocky smile. “Don’t even start that again. That is one battle you will never win.”
“No.” She shook her head and felt her cheeks grow warm. “I mean, I think we should share the bed.”
He seemed hesitant. “Are you sure, Becca? I don’t want to rush you if you aren’t ready for that.”
“Well, it would just be sleeping for now, but I want you beside me,” she assured him, and to prove it, turned his head so she could kiss his lips. “I know now that there is no safer place than in your arms.”
He smiled and took her hand to lead her back to the bedroom. Once they were securely under the covers, she laid her head on his chest, feeling lulled by the even sound of his heartbeat. As she drifted to sleep beside him, she felt happy, really happy. She was ready to put the past behind her for good.
Chapter Twenty-One
Rebecca went back to her normal routine on Monday with renewed vigor. There were still off moments here and there—a sound, a smell, an unexpected touch—that would make her jump or send her heart racing. A part of her thought it would always be that way. But for the most part, she felt like herself again. She looked forward to her classes, to work at the post office, and especially to getting back on the stage.
Things in the drama club were really beginning to progress. There were only a few weeks left until opening night, and finally the backdrops and props were all in order. The art department had done an amazing job with their depictions of Victorian England. They had given the murals a dark, Gothic motif that Justyn and Livy blended with effortlessly, even without their period costumes. They had even created a realistic-looking oven where Mrs. Lovatt would bake her cannibalistic pies and eventually meet her ghastly end.
The best of the scenery was the two-story movable platform. The bottom housed Mrs. Lovett’s pie shop while the second story was Mr. Todd’s barber shop and the place where he would do in his unsuspecting patrons. It was complete with an old-fashioned barber chair that converted into a human garbage disposal. One flick of the lever, and the floor opened up, revealing a secret compartment. The murdered actors would slip down the built-in slide, landing safely on an air mattress below. There they would stay hidden from the audience until the scene changes allowed them to escape from the confining spot without being seen.
Rebecca was one of many who took the daily plunge down the chute after Lucy was murdered by Sweeney Todd. It wasn’t her favorite scene, since she was trapped down there with Scott for at least fifteen minutes each time. Usually he spent those endless minutes either trying to grab her bottom or whispering brazen comments that would have cost him a black eye or a split lip had Justyn overheard him. If that weren’t enough reason to dislike the scene, she lived with the constant fear Livy would find some way to remove the air mattress before she could make it to safety.
Her uncharitable thoughts about Livy automatically made Rebecca feel guilty. While it was true that Livy had treated her like a wad of gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe and that she was ceaselessly attempting to steal her boyfriend, Rebecca still regretted their argument. She shuddered when she thought of Livy’s horribly scarred arms. She must have been through something terrible. Maybe the
whole tough-girl facade was just a cover for her deeper insecurities. It didn’t completely excuse her behavior. Nevertheless, Rebecca decided on her way to the theater that she was going to at least try to make peace with Livy, starting with an overdue apology.
Rebecca was glad to see Livy was one of the few cast mates to have arrived at the set early. She found her backstage, shoving her handbag and jacket into her locker. She wasn’t alone. She was in the midst of what appeared to be a serious disagreement with Scott. Her eyes were glowering with barely controlled fury while he stood aloof, wearing the same smug smile he always bore. Rebecca didn’t intend to eavesdrop, but they were talking too loudly for her to avoid overhearing them as she worked the combination on her locker.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about, you moron,” Livy told him. “You have it all wrong and you sure as hell aren’t going to blackmail me into anything.”
“Save it, Liv. I’m not a whipped little puppy dog like Chad. I know what I heard, and you don’t control me. Just remember that.”
“And you remember that I know a few things about you too, Scott. So before you start spreading any stupid rumors, you had better think about that!”
Apparently Rebecca had arrived at the tail-end of the heated conversation. Scott stomped away, and Livy slammed her locker shut with all the rage of a Greek Fury. She wondered if the secrets they were talking about had anything to do with Livy’s scars. Of all the people at the party, only Scott and Chad had not seemed surprised when they were revealed. Of course, none of that was really any of Rebecca’s business. She just wanted to say she was sorry and get it over with. Rebecca took a few tentative steps in Livy’s direction and almost lost her resolve when she was greeted with narrowed eyes and a nasty scowl.
“What the hell are you looking at?” Livy demanded.
At first Rebecca just ignored her hostility. She walked back to her cubbyhole and opened it to stowaway her bags until practice was over. She was going to forget the whole stupid idea and just walk away. But Livy was still standing there, leaning against the lockers, looking just as sad as she did angry. Rebecca couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She was reminded of how horribly everyone had treated Justyn during the production of Phantom and thought perhaps Livy was just as misunderstood.
“Livy,” she started, “can we talk for a minute?”
The Goth just gave her a dirty look. “I don’t know what we could possibly have to say to each other.”
“I just wanted to apologize about what happened at the party,” Rebecca spoke with as much sincerity as she could muster. “No matter how we feel about each other, I never meant to … to embarrass you the way I did.”
Rebecca had never seen the cliché of flashing eyes come to life like it did at that moment. “Don’t you dare!” Livy spat. “Don’t you dare pity me!”
“That’s not what I meant,” Rebecca tried to explain, though she knew she was fighting a losing battle. “I just regret—”
“Do you want to know what I regret?” Livy interrupted and actually shoved Rebecca against her locker. “I regret not ripping every strand of hair out of that pretty little head of yours when I had the chance. This isn’t high school, Becca! We aren’t going to be friends. And I’m not going to stop until Justyn is mine and you run back to New Jersey with your tail between your legs. Is that clear enough for you, deary? Don’t try to make nice with me again.”
Livy stomped away, and Rebecca just stood there, feeling shocked and a little stung. She couldn’t believe how vicious Livy could be. So much for olive branches. Instead of trying to hand her one, Rebecca should have shoved it straight up her….
“Wow.” Frankie came up beside her, shaking his head. “It’s girls like that who give PMS a bad rep. I seriously think the next play she should star in is the Taming of the Shrew.”
“There’s no taming that one,” Rebecca replied, still shaking her head.
“Did I miss something?” The stream of students was steadily pouring in, and Justyn was among them. He eyed them both warily as he deposited his books. “You two look awfully serious.”
“Livy was just having a tantrum.” Frankie explained. “But we should all be used to her diva attitude by now.”
“Try not to judge her too harshly,” Justyn told them. “She’s been through a lot.”
The fact that Rebecca had been thinking the very same thing just minutes earlier didn’t make it any less annoying when Justyn said it. She didn’t want Justyn feeling sorry for Livy. She didn’t want him feeling anything for her at all. So she decided to try to steer the conversation in another direction.
“I wonder where Megan is.” She strained her neck to look for her friend in the ever-growing crowd. “We usually meet for coffee before practice on Mondays, but she wasn’t there today, and she didn’t answer her cell.”
Frankie shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen Megan or Quinn since the party on Friday. Oh, wait,” he gestured toward the entrance of the theater, “Quinn’s coming in the door now.”
Rebecca looked over expectantly, assuming Megan would be skipping in behind him as usual. If she wasn’t in class or with Rebecca, she could usually be found attached to Quinn’s hip. Yet Quinn was alone and looking abnormally forlorn. He barely acknowledged them when Frankie tried to wave him over. Instead of joining them as he always did, he sat alone in the front row of the aisles, staring off into space as he waited for rehearsal to begin. Before they could go ask him what was wrong, Professor Carter appeared. He looked unhappy as well, but of course, that was nothing new for the director.
Rebecca still didn’t see Megan, and she began to worry. She was sure that whatever Megan’s reasons, Professor Carter would have her head on a platter if she was late for practice. Rebecca was nervous as she followed the other students to their normal spots on the stage. Yet instead of directing the orchestra to warm up, Professor Carter climbed the steps to the center of the stage and cleared his throat. For reasons she couldn’t explain, Rebecca felt her heartbeat quicken. She reached for Justyn’s hand.
“I need your attention for a moment, please.” The director waited for the room to grow quiet, then continued in a detached, monotone voice. “I am afraid Miss Rice will no longer be participating in the production. The part of Johanna will now be played by her understudy Alice Bennett. I hope you will all work to accommodate this change.”
The excited squeal of the promoted chorus girl made Professor Carter look like he might just change his mind about the casting decision, but he stepped down from the stage with little more than a disgruntled shake of his head. Quinn, on the other hand, looked as if he were about to burst into tears. At least now, Rebecca knew why.
“What happened to Megan?” Frankie asked, as confused as the rest of them. “Why would she quit the play?”
Rebecca shrugged. “I have no idea. It doesn’t sound like her at all.”
“I’ll try to talk to Quinn before the first act starts,” Justyn promised and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure she’s okay. Try not to worry. Even though I know that’s what you do best. After singing, of course.”
Rebecca nodded and tried to return his playful smile. Yet a deeper instinct told her something serious had happened. The gloomy look on Quinn’s face as he moved through his lines only made her even more certain something was dreadfully wrong. He walked along the stage, his hands tucked in his pockets, singing about saving Johanna from the asylum where Judge Turpin had locked her away. Rebecca could feel that his words were really going out to Megan, though she wasn’t there to hear them.
“Oh, Johanna, wherever you may be,
I will find you; they can’t hide you from me.
In the darkness of the night,
feel my arms holding you tight.
No matter where you are, I am beside you there.
Gently stroking your soft, tawny hair.
Jooohaaaannna”
He sounded so completely heartbroken that Rebecca wan
ted to cry in despair right along with him. What could have happened? Did Megan break up with him? That might have explained Quinn’s melancholy, but Rebecca found it hard to believe Megan would quit the play because of a lovers’ quarrel. She had worked too hard to ensure her spot in the cast and in her future.
Rebecca wasn’t left to wonder for long. When practice ended, she watched Quinn bolt for the door, despite Justyn’s efforts to call him back. When he realized it was no use going after Quinn, he headed toward Rebecca, looking serious. He arrived by her side at the same time as Frankie. Both of them looked equally grim. Judging by the way they exchanged nervous glances, she knew they had learned something they were leery about sharing. Rebecca immediately felt her stomach lurch. She knew Justyn was about to tell her what had happened to Megan, but she wasn’t so certain anymore that she was ready to hear it.
“Becca,” Justyn said softly and took her hand, “something’s happened. Something really terrible.”
He stopped there, seeming unsure how to continue. Frankie was nodding his head, but still, no one was talking. After a few minutes, Rebecca started to get frustrated.
“Just tell me already, Justyn!” she demanded. “You have to tell me what happened to Megan! I promise I’m not going to fall apart.”
