by Laura DeLuca
Rebecca closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she finally spoke, her voice was controlled, but strained. “You’re right, Robert. It’s not your place. You’re only my father on stage, not in real life.”
The older man appeared hurt by the rebuff. “I apologize for interfering.”
Robert started to walk away with his shoulders slouched, and Rebecca immediately felt guilty. “Wait, Robert. Listen, I’m sorry I jumped down your throat. I know you mean well, but you don’t know anything about me or Justyn. Whatever you heard, trust me when I tell you it’s not the whole story.”
“I may not know your beau personally, but I’ve been around long enough to know trouble when I see it.” He patted her back. “Just be careful, Rebecca. You’re a beautiful girl with a promising future. I would hate to see you throw it all away for someone who isn’t worthy of your affections.”
Robert didn’t give her a chance to reply before heading for the stage, which was probably a good thing, since the only response she could think of involved a lot of very unladylike vocabulary. Once she was sure Robert was out of earshot, Rebecca turned to Tom and Carmen, who had been busy admiring their shoes through the awkward conversation.
“I can’t believe how quick everyone is to think the worst of Justyn,” she complained.
Carmen snorted. “Did you ever think maybe they’re right?”
“Wh-what?” Rebecca blinked. Was even her best friend turning on her? Luckily, Tom was quick to jump to Justyn’s defense. Thank goodness someone still had some common sense.
“Car, you aren’t serious, are you?”
“Well, the drugs were in his car…” Carmen continued. She was downright evil.
Tom shook his head firmly. “No. No way. You know Justyn would never touch drugs. He won’t even drink a beer, for God sakes. I’m telling you, he was framed.”
“Carmen, how can you even consider such a thing?” Rebecca demanded. “Especially after Justyn sacrificed himself for us?”
Carmen huffed. “Sacrificed himself for you, maybe. He didn’t seem worried when they were cuffing Tom. But that’s all beside the point. Just look at the facts. We all know you two were having money issues. Who’s to say Justyn didn’t think this was an easy way to make a quick buck? I agree he would never use heroin, but that doesn’t mean he might not sell it if he was desperate for cash. Remember that weird kid that was here last week? The skinny one with the red hair? Justyn handed off some kind of package to him. We all saw it. How do we know it wasn’t drugs?”
“No,” Rebecca insisted. “I won’t let you do this to me. I doubted Justyn once before. Back in high school I listened to everyone else instead of following my own heart. Do you remember what happened? It almost got us all killed. I’m not going to doubt him again. And you shouldn’t either because … because—”
“Because you’re supposed to be my friends.”
Justyn had emerged from his meeting with Fernando, snuck up on them in his traditional silent manner, and finished Rebecca’s sentence. He still carried his backpack with his street clothes as he stalked silently to his locker and opened it. He didn’t say another word, but it was obvious he felt devastated and betrayed. Rebecca shot Carmen a dirty look. The Latina only shrugged, but at least had the decency to look uncomfortable. Tom was the one who finally made a move. He took a tentative step toward Justyn and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Listen, man, we are your friends.”
Justyn was about to shut his locker door, but he froze at the sound of Tom’s voice. At first Rebecca thought he was going to make his usual sarcastic retort. Instead, he simply shook his head. He lifted his other hand up to the metal as though he thought the wall of cubbyholes might be the only way to support his despair. He shocked them all when he broke the strained silence with a gut-wrenching wail that echoed throughout the corridor. Even that horrid, grief-stricken cry was almost completely drowned out by the crack of metal against metal as he repeatedly slammed his locker door. Once it locked itself, he settled for pounding his fists into the locker instead. Again and again, bone slammed against steal. The answering rattle was almost deafening.
“Aghhh!” He punched the door one last time before rubbing his knuckles. “Screw this. I give up. I just … I just give up. If you guys don’t believe in me, what’s the point?”
The last words were more of a whisper than a shout, and with that declaration, Justyn slid down to the floor where he laid his head against his knees. Rebecca didn’t realize her legs had started moving until she found herself on the ground by his side. She lifted his already bruised and swollen fingers to her lips and kissed every digit. It seemed this was one wound her love might not be able to heal. He didn’t look any less angry or lost, and he barely acknowledged she was there.
“Don’t say that, Justyn,” she pleaded. “We’re going to get through this.”
“You don’t understand,” he whispered. “No one believes me. The cops and the judge are treating me like a hardened criminal. The country club let me go because the arrest is a breach of the morals clause in my contract. Fernando is only keeping me around because he knew my dad twenty years ago. I’ll even lose my scholarship if I’m convicted. Not that it would matter, since I wouldn’t be able to shuttle to the campus from a prison cell every day. Everyone has already made their decision. There is no innocent until proven guilty for me. Just because I look the part of the drug dealer to a bunch of closed-minded idiots, it’s like it’s an open-and-shut case. It’s enough to make me give into the mainstream and start wearing pastel polo shirts.”
Tom put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, Justyn. Becca is right. We’re gonna figure this mess out. I’ve got your back. If only because the thought of you in a polo shirt kind of weirds me out a little.” Justyn almost smiled before Tom continued. “And listen, Carmen didn’t mean all that crap she was saying. You know how she is. She’s kind of…” His sentence trailed off, and he turned to his girlfriend, looking sheepish.
Carmen gave Tom a dirty look and crossed her arms, but relented. “What Tom is trying to say in a way that won’t revoke his sexual privileges for the rest of the summer is this: we all know I can be a mouthy bitch sometimes. I can’t help it. It’s my nature. I get especially defensive where Becca is concerned, because sometimes she’s too damn nice for her own good. But if you’re telling me you didn’t do it, I believe you. And I’ll do whatever I can to help clear your name.”
“You aren’t a bitch,” Justyn said quietly. He pulled his hand away from Rebecca so he could stand. “You’re honest. You say what you really think. I’ve always admired that about you. And as far as my guilt or innocence is concerned … it doesn’t really matter anymore. There’s nothing you or anyone else can do to help me. It’s out of our hands. So don’t worry about it.”
He was gone before Rebecca had even managed to lug herself up off the floor. She moved to chase after him, but Tom stopped her.
“Let me talk to him,” he offered. “Maybe I can get through to him.”
Rebecca had no idea why Justyn was pushing away his friends as well as his fiancée, but maybe Tom was right and he needed some male bonding time. Perhaps Tom could find the right words and give Justyn back his fighting spirit, because Rebecca was failing miserably.
An hour later, as Rebecca waited behind the curtain for her next scene, she wondered if Tom had faired any better than his counterpart. On the stage, Tom was engrossed in the role of John, Dr. Jekyll’s closest friend and attorney. Ironically, the two comrades in the play were facing the same sort of predicament as the real-life chums. The anguished expression on Justyn’s face as he tried to explain the danger he was in didn’t take much acting. The scene made Rebecca shiver almost as much as the now-familiar shadow that slipped past her. She didn’t even bother to glance over her shoulder. She knew if she turned, the image would vanish. The goose bumps on her arms were all she needed to know the theater ghost was more than just her overactive imagination.
“We’r
e up, my dear.”
Rebecca jumped when Robert tapped her on the shoulder. She was so lost in her own thoughts she had almost missed her cue. She was glad her stage father didn’t pick up on her nervousness or the fact that she was still a little annoyed with him. Luckily, the scene didn’t call for enthusiasm on her part. Emma was supposed to be arguing with Sir Danvers about her choice in men. As their argument intensified, John and Dr. Jekyll discussed their dilemma on the opposite end of the stage. The two scenes took place at the same time, but the actors weren’t supposed to be aware of each other. Despite this, it was hard for Rebecca not to steal a glance in Justyn’s direction or avoid another shiver when she realized how much their four-part harmony reflected their own personal positions. Tom was the first to begin, and he reached out a beckoning hand to Justyn.
“We’ve been friends so many years.
I know your dreams. I know your fears.
I see the pain that’s in your eyes.
It’s a grief you can’t disguise.”
Tom’s lines died away, and Justyn stepped forward. Already the jacket and shirttails that had been perfectly kept in the opening scenes were beginning to unravel. His collar was undone, his shirt untucked, and strands of hair escaped the once-tight ponytail. Hyde was taking his toll, and it was reflected in Dr. Jekyll’s appearance as well as his song. Even that disarray emulated Justyn’s own situation, and Dr. Jekyll’s response to John was as fitting as any words Justyn could have uttered to his real-life friend.
“All I’ve worked for could come undone.
It seems my fate that I be shunned.
It means nothing to be reassured.
No one grasps all I have endured.”
After Justyn’s solo, the spotlight turned to Rebecca and Robert. Emma and Sir Danvers were supposed to be in the midst of an argument in the streets of London. The extras walked in the background to add to the realism of the scene. Rebecca shoved her hands inside her fluffy, white muff while Robert shook his cane and removed his top hat to scratch his gray hair. Emma’s father never approved of her decision to marry a mere doctor over nobility. Sir Danvers liked it even less that the doctor was experimenting with questionable drugs and methods that were considered outrageous by his colleagues. Not unlike her real father, Robert’s character was suggesting—almost demanding—Emma end her engagement to the man she loved.
“Emma, can’t you see the man has gone raving mad?
I tell you, if you walk away now, you will be glad.
Locked away in his lab without so much as a word.
To throw away your future for him is simply absurd.
Rebecca felt all Emma’s frustration and fury as she watched the older man wag his finger as he sang in a deep, resonating baritone. She shook her head in reproach and replied to his accusations in a brilliant soprano.
“Father, there is no way I could just walk away.
Until his troubles pass, I will pray he finds his way.
At Henry’s side is the only place where I belong.
To desert him in his time of need would surely be wrong.”
When Rebecca finished her verse, it was time for all four actors to sing in unison, creating a quartet of voices that rang out in perfect harmony. It was amazing how from baritone to soprano, each individual’s lyrics were clear, despite the fact that none of them sang the same words. Rebecca’s high vibrato notes were richest of all and easy to pick out over her three male counterparts. Her final aria echoed across the high ceilings as the curtains swept closed and the audience burst into a healthy round of applause.
The next few scenes were between Justyn and Victoria, so Rebecca took advantage of the reprieve to use the ladies’ room. New pregnancy symptoms were emerging every day. If she wasn’t throwing up, her bladder was bursting. She had never spent as much time in the bathroom as she had in the last few weeks. When she was finished, she washed her hands and adjusted her petticoats. She was about to emerge when she heard voices coming from the hallway just outside the employee restroom.
“Do you have it?” It was hard not to recognize Steve’s North Jersey twang. He was the only one of them who sounded like he’d recently finished taping an episode of Jersey Shore.
“Yeah, I got it. One dime bag.”
“Shut up!” Steve cussed under his breath. “Do you want someone to hear us?”
The other voice wasn’t as easy to place. The man spoke in a gruff whisper, almost as if he were trying to disguise his voice. It was definitely a man, but she wasn’t sure who it was and Rebecca was too afraid to peek out the door for fear she might be seen. All she could do was keep her ear pressed against the wood and hope she heard more.
“Whatcha worried about?” the mystery voice asked. “It’s only a little weed.”
Steve sounded annoyed. “Well, Fernando isn’t likely to take it well if he finds out you’re selling under his nose. He’s already stressed about that damn kid.”
There was a quiet snicker. “I wouldn’t worry about Fernando. Cheap bastard. The worst he’d do is ask for a cut of the profits. As for that kid, well, he’ll be outta our hair before you know it. The boss man’ll see to that.”
After that Rebecca heard the distinct patter of footsteps as the two men walked away. Rebecca waited for as long as she dared before sticking her head out the door. When she saw the coast was clear, she snuck out of the ladies’ room and back behind the stage. She wished she had known who Steve was talking to, but despite the mystery, one thing was still certain. There were at least two suspects in the theater involved with drugs, and Rebecca was sure one of them was the person who had framed Justyn. She just had to find a way to prove it.
Chapter Sixteen
Justyn was unimpressed when she told him what she’d overheard, and Rebecca was frustrated. She didn’t understand his lack of enthusiasm. Sure, it was a bit of a leap going from smoking a joint to shooting heroin, but at least now they knew someone in the theater had a definite connection with illegal drugs. Rebecca still considered Steve their number-one suspect, especially since he’d made his unbiased dislike of Justyn clear their first day on the scene.
Those were Rebecca’s exact thoughts as she vomited in the employee restroom during intermission four days after Justyn’s arraignment. She was hardly fazed by the illness anymore. Throwing up had become part of her daily ritual, though why it was called morning sickness when it could occur anytime, day or night, was beyond her. When she recovered, she sat on the floor of the stall for a minute, trying to catch her breath. Almost instantly, she felt the now-familiar chill as her ghostly friend passed by. Instead of being frightening, the presence was somewhat comforting. The icy breeze against her flushed cheeks was refreshing. The ghost had developed a fondness for her, and Rebecca had the feeling she and Grace Hamilton would have been friends had they lived in the same century.
A few moments later, she heard the door to the bathroom click open, and the presence instantly vanished. Rebecca gathered her skirts and pulled herself up from the ground. Justyn had become extra protective since he found out about the baby, and she thought perhaps he had grown worried and sent Carmen to check on her. When she emerged, she was surprised to find Victoria waiting there instead. She studied Rebecca with narrowed eyes. She’d been aloof since Justyn’s arrest, but now the frown on her face was filled with honest concern that quite suddenly turned to outright shock as she made a revelation.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
“Why on earth would you think that?” Rebecca tried to laugh the observation off while she washed her hands, but she had never been very good at acting under pressure, and her voice came out a little shaky. She avoided Victoria’s eyes and reached for a paper towel.
“This is the second time I’ve caught you with your head in the toilet.” Victoria crossed her arms. “Come on, Becca. I’m a momma. I know the signs.”
Rebecca sighed. She didn’t have the energy to cover it up anymore. Now that Just
yn knew about the baby, it didn’t make much difference who else found out anyway. “Okay, you’re right. I’m pregnant, but it’s not a big deal.”
For some reason, the news upset Victoria way more than it should have. “This is terrible,” she whispered.
Rebecca blinked. “Well, geez, I’m sorry you think so. I guess I won’t bother sending you an invitation to the baby shower.”
Victoria shook her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just seems like bad timing with all this junk going on with Justyn. And believe me, I know a thing or two about bad timing…”
“Yeah, well, I would’ve preferred to finish college before I started changing diapers, but we’ll manage somehow. Honestly, I’m trying not to think too much about it. My first priority right now is clearing Justyn of these trumped-up charges.”
Rebecca was tossing her crumpled paper towel into the garbage when Victoria grabbed hold of her arm. The Latina suddenly looked worried, frantic even. Her roughness startled Rebecca into dropping the discarded paper on the floor, while she tried without success to yank her arm free from Victoria’s vice-like grip.
“Listen, Becca, I shouldn’t be saying this. I shouldn’t be gettin’ involved at all ‘cause it ain’t none of my business. But trust me when I tell you there’s more going on here than you realize. Don’t start snooping around—if not for your own sake, than for the sake of that baby you’re carrying.”
Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “You know something, don’t you? You know who framed Jus—”
“I know Justyn is in over his head,” Victoria interrupted. “He pissed off the wrong people. But you don’t gotta go down with him. Walk away from this, Becca. Walk away from him if you got to. Before you get hurt.”
Rebecca tried to wriggle out of her grasp, but Victoria squeezed her arm so tight she was sure she’d have a bruise the next day. Still, Rebecca held her ground. Victoria had no idea the things she’d been through already. She didn’t scare easily anymore.
