by Laura DeLuca
“The guys who found his body swear they saw a man in a cape and a mask running from the bathroom,” Debbie whispered. “They’re sure it was the killer.”
Jay always wanted the last word. “I heard he drowned in the toilet bowl.”
Rebecca had enough. With an outraged huff, she tossed her spoon down onto her lunch tray, so hard that remnants of yogurt shot across the table and splashed Carmen in the face.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Carmen wiped yogurt off her nose with the sleeve of her shirt and gave Rebecca a dirty look.
“My problem is that someone is dead! A human being is gone forever. It would be nice if someone would show a little respect, maybe an ounce of compassion, instead of treating his death like one big joke!”
Debbie was quick to agree and looked embarrassed. “You’re right, Becca. We shouldn’t be making jokes when someone was killed.”
“Old Russ bit the big one. He kicked the can,” Jay said with a snicker. “He’s pushing up daisies. What do you want us to do? Cry like a bunch of babies?”
Rebecca lost what little was left of her composure. She stood from the table and grabbed her lunch tray, prepared to stomp away. Tom grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back into the seat. She didn’t have the energy to fight him and she didn’t even realize she was crying until he used his napkin to wipe away her tears.
“I had no idea you had such a soft spot for poor old Mr. Russ,” Tom said gently. “I’m sorry if we upset you.”
“No . . . I’m sorry,” Rebecca said through a hiccup. “I had no right to yell at you guys. It’s just that I . . . that I feel . . . responsible for what happened.”
“What?” Carmen exclaimed. “How could you possibly be to blame for what happened to that creepy old man?”
“The same way I’m responsible for what happened to Wendy.” Rebecca sighed and put her head in her hands. “Someone called me before the dance. They warned me that if I went with Tom, something horrible would happen. And now Mr. Russ is dead. He’s dead because of me!”
Tom was skeptical. They all were, but he was the only one brave enough to address her when she was apparently having a nervous breakdown. “Becca, I don’t doubt that someone is trying to scare you. But don’t you think that killing someone would be taking the joke a little too far? Not even that Gothic freak would do something like that.”
“I don’t think it’s a joke.”
Rebecca crossed her arms and glared at him. Tom’s statement had been condescending. It was the remark about Justyn that had annoyed her the most, even though she didn’t mention it.
“I actually have to agree with Tom,” Debbie said. “Whatever happened to Mr. Russ, it couldn’t have anything to do with you, Becca. Of all the people to target, why would anyone choose him? He had nothing to do with you. There’s no motive.”
“I have no idea why they picked him. But we can’t deny that he’s dead, that he was murdered.”
“Dude, Mr. Russ was a schizophrenic nut job,” Jay told her. “He probably really did drown himself in the toilet. Let it go already.”
Rebecca did let it go. At least, she made the conscious effort not to bring it up again for the rest of the lunch period. Her friends were careful not to mention the janitor either. It became obvious by the strained silence and nervous glances that they all wondered if she was a schizophrenic nut job as well. And maybe she was. Maybe she was crazy, plain and simple. The notes and phone calls could be irrational delusions. Maybe she was trying so hard to play the part of Christine that she was tricking herself into believing she had become her on a deeper level. That would certainly explain her strange fascination with the mysterious Lord Justyn.
Even as she thought about Justyn, she reached into her handbag and stroked the crystal geode he had given her. She had tossed it into her bag as an afterthought that morning when she left for school. It did somehow comfort her when she felt its smooth surface between her fingers. It was ironic; the person who had given it to her should have been her number one suspect. Not even the magic of the geode could keep her thoughts from straying back to poor Mr. Russ and his unfortunate end. She kept seeing his accusing face all throughout her afternoon classes. She almost expected to see him glaring at her every time she turned a corner.
Once she arrived at rehearsal, her irrational worries continued to plague her and hindered her performance. More than once, she hit a sour note, and every time she did she was painfully aware of Wendy’s laughter on the side of the stage. Her thoughts kept her from noticing the tension growing around her between Tom and Justyn—tensions that finally came to a head during the sword-fighting scene.
The fighting scene was one of only a few that Justyn and Tom shared. It was also the first time they had seen each other since the disastrous Halloween dance. Tom had apparently heard rumors of her waltz with Justyn because it was plainly obvious that he was unhappy. It was obvious to everyone but Rebecca, who was in her own unpleasant little world. She watched the fight scene unwind with glazed eyes. Her character was supposed to be watching in horror. Instead, Rebecca was staring off into space with her arms crossed while the two boys exchanged blows with their plastic swords in her name. It wasn’t until Tom had Justyn pinned to the ground in feigned defeat that Rebecca realized it wasn’t just pretending anymore.
“Do you think you’re going to move in on my girlfriend?” Tom poked Justyn in the ribs with the plastic sword just a little harder than was necessary. “Stay away from Becca!”
Rebecca saw Justyn’s eyes flash dangerously. Even though his voice was calm, there was clearly a threat in his words. “What if Becca doesn’t want me to stay away from her?”
Rebecca immediately came to her senses and ran over to break up the duel. Other people were watching too, with more attention than usual. It was obvious that the scene had strayed from the normal act. As she moved closer, and Justyn rose to his feet, phony sword forgotten, she had to wonder if she was going to be able to stop the inevitable.
“Cease this folly!
End this mad game!
No more violence.
In the angel’s name!”
Rebecca desperately wrung her hands. Both Justyn and Tom were as oblivious to her as she had been to them just a moment earlier. They didn’t hear her melodic pleas for restraint, and they both seemed to forget their own lines as they continued to glare at one another. Rebecca scanned the crowd for Miss King, but the useless moderator was too busy flirting with the orchestra’s bandmaster to pay any attention to what was happening between the actors on the stage.
“I’m sick and tired of you always getting in my way, vampire!”
“And I’m tired of your juvenile comments. Is talking the only thing you can do?”
That was the challenge Tom needed. He threw his sword to the ground and moved in closer. “Why don’t I show you what I can do?”
Rebecca saw Tom’s arm preparing to swing, and she knew she had to intercede. She couldn’t let anyone else get hurt because her. Even as she jumped between the boys, she knew it was more than just the fight that was going to come to an end. She’d had it with everything. It wasn’t worth the fear, the threats, or the fighting. As much as she had once loved the story of the phantom, at that moment she hated it to the very core of her being.
“Stop it! Just stop it! Both of you!”
Tom’s arm immediately fell to his side when Rebecca blocked his target, but his fists were still balled in frustration. Each word was enunciated through his clenched teeth. “Move out of the way, Becca.”
“Yes, Becca, go ahead. Move out of his way.” Justyn agreed. His musical voice was still irritatingly calm.
“No, I won’t get out of the way unless the two of you promise to stop acting like Neanderthals!”
Justyn huffed. “There’s only one Neanderthal here.”
Rebecca was getting more and more aggravated. Her anger didn’t seem to faze Tom or Justyn. Luckily, Miss King had finally noticed what was happening and came ov
er to break things up. It was a good thing too, because Rebecca was done trying to keep the peace. She was done acting the part of the damsel. She had made a decision. To the horror of Miss King and the rest of the cast, Rebecca threw up her arms in defeat and stomped off the stage.
“That’s it!” she declared. “I’m done. I’m quitting the play!”
Chapter Fifteen
“Becca, wait!”
Rebecca ignored Justyn even though she was completely aware that he was following her. She had no intention of stopping or turning around. She fought the childish urge to burst into tears as she ran down the deserted hallway towards her locker. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her acting like a blubbering weakling. For some reason, that would be just too awful to bear.
“Becca, come on!”
This time it was Tom’s voice, almost echoing Justyn’s, and making the whole situation ten times worse. The fact that the two of them were apparently coming up behind her at the same time was enough to finally make her give in and turn around to face them, if only to make sure they weren’t going to kill each other. She already had Mr. Russ’s death on her conscience. She couldn’t handle the possibility of adding another body to the head count. But she was still furious with them both, and she knew her flashing brown eyes revealed it.
“What do you want?” Rebecca demanded.
Her voice was so sharp that they both turned to look at each other and exchanged nervous glances.
“Becca, you can’t quit the play!” Tom said bravely. “We need you!”
Justyn nodded his head in agreement. “Tom’s right.”
Justyn was agreeing with Tom? That was something that Rebecca never thought she would hear. What made the situation even more bizarre was that Tom and Justyn were presenting a united front. It really wasn’t fair. They were double teaming her. How was she supposed to hold her ground?
“It isn’t fair to everyone else in the cast who’s worked so hard” Justyn continued. “We need you, Becca.”
On some level, she knew they were right. The whole production would fall apart if she quit now. Weeks of memorizing lines and long rehearsals would have been for nothing. The price of the tickets that had already been sold would have to be refunded. But Rebecca wasn’t ready to back down. It would serve them right if she really did quit.
“Let Wendy take the role.” She huffed. “That will solve all my problems at once. It’ll get Wendy off my back, and I won’t have to deal with you two fighting over me like a . . . like a piece of meat.”
“Becca, I never meant to make you feel . . . .”
“No, wait.” Justyn interrupted Tom, which resulted in a glare and a barely contained string of curses. He apparently realized that fighting wasn’t going to solve anything, so he bit his tongue and didn’t say more. “Becca’s right.” Justyn continued. “Instead of acting like testosterone driven animals, why don’t we act like gentlemen? Let Becca make the choice between us.”
That was almost too much for Tom to take. “What makes you think she needs to make a choice?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Rebecca sighed in resignation and took her accustomed spot in between them. “I have made a choice. I don’t want anything to do with either of you. I’m not going to be the reason that you rip each other’s heads off. So, I’m done with both of you, and with the play.”
When she was reasonably sure that they weren’t going to start swinging, she moved to her locker and turned the combination.
“You can’t mean that!”
Tom’s voice sounded almost pathetically desperate, though whether it was over the play or their relationship, she had no way to tell. Justyn, on the other hand, was annoyingly confident when he spoke.
“She doesn’t mean it. Becca can’t walk away from the phantom, any more than Christine could.”
She wasn’t about to admit he was right. Even after all the accidents, the threats, the fighting, she was still drawn to the beauty of the music. Just as she was still drawn to him, despite the fact that she sometimes wondered if he was the one behind all the dangerous games. She was so frustrated with her own self-betrayal that she refused to look at them. She yanked open her locker violently and shoved her books into her bag. When he realized she had no intention of responding, Justyn turned to Tom, and actually stuck out his hand.
“I propose a truce.”
Tom scowled at the offered hand like it was a giant insect. “I propose you go back to whatever circus freak show you came from.”
Justyn didn’t lose his composure for a second. “If you really care about Becca, you’ll give her the chance to choose between us civilly. She’s obviously drawn to us both.”
Tom snorted. “You’re living in a dream world.”
“Am I?” Justyn raised an eyebrow and turned to Rebecca. “Becca, am I living in a dream world? If you tell me honestly that you aren’t interested, I’ll walk away and never look back.”
The thought of Justyn walking out of her life forever was enough to make her choke back a gasp of horror. That was the last thing she wanted. But of course she wasn’t going to admit that. She was too annoyed at his audacity to be overly civil, so she snorted and glared at him instead.
“Oh, do I actually get to take part in this conversation about what I want? I thought the two of you would just decide for me.”
Her sarcasm was completely lost on Tom. “You don’t actually like this guy, do you Becca?”
“I don’t know. I mean . . . .” Rebecca let out a cry of frustration and actually banged her head against her locker. She decided that it wasn’t worth trying to deny it anymore. Not to Tom. Not to Justyn. And especially not to herself. “Yes. I can’t explain it . . . but I am drawn to him.”
Justyn didn’t say anything, but his expression was undeniably smug. Tom, on the other hand, looked so crestfallen that she wished she could take it back as soon as she had said it.
“What about me?”
“I like you, too, Tom. I like you both.” Rebecca sighed. “Which is why I need to just walk away. I don’t want to hurt anyone. And I don’t want you two to hurt each other because of me. It’s the best thing for everyone involved if I just quit the play and go back to being invisible.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary for you to quit the play, Becca. Tom, don’t you think that we can control ourselves long enough for Becca to make up her mind?” When Tom nodded grudgingly, Justyn turned back to Rebecca. “One date with each of us. Then you have to make your decision, once and for all. The loser bows out gracefully. No fighting. Tom, are you game?”
Tom was frowning, but he still agreed. “If that’s what Becca wants, I guess I’ll have to go along with it. But I get to go first.”
Justyn gave him a cocky smirk. “Technically, you’ve already had one date with her.”
“That doesn’t count. I was sick!”
“You mean you were drunk.”
“Aghhh!” Rebecca shrieked and slammed her locker door shut. The boys had taken one step closer to each other, their fists balled. “Obviously, this isn’t going to work. You can’t even make the agreement to stop fighting without fighting!”
“No, this will work. I secede,” Justyn told Tom. Rebecca was fairly certain he had no idea what ‘secede’ meant, judging by the dumbfounded look on his face. “I mean . . . you can go first. I’ve waited this long. What are a few more days?”
“You might wind up waiting forever.” Tom promised. “After I take Becca out, she won’t even remember your name.”
Justyn was unfazed. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take. So, how about it, Becca? Are you coming back in to rehearsal?”
Rebecca shook her head. She was far from convinced that an open competition was a good idea; she didn’t like the idea of being the trophy in that competition, either. Nevertheless, they were both behaving themselves, and looking at her so imploringly that it was hard to stay angry with them.
“Diva, we need you!” Justyn exclaimed.
Once again he was spouting lines from the play. He cleared his throat; waiting for Tom to pick up his cue, but he was oblivious until Justyn elbowed him in the ribs. Tom looked annoyed until his face lit up with understanding and he realized what Justyn was trying to do.
“Oh, umm.” Tom stuttered for a minute, trying to remember a line that wasn’t his own. “Your audience awaits!”
Before Rebecca could decide whether to walk away or start laughing, the mismatched pair broke into an unseemly duet.
“Beautiful diva step into the light.
The opera house awaits your appearance tonight.
Wave to the crowd; break their hearts with your song.
Sing for us diva, sing loud and sing strong.”
