The Webster Grove Series

by Puckett, Tracie

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Miss Holt said proudly. “Welcome! I'm thrilled to look out and see so many beautiful, young faces ready to put on another stunning show!”

  I mumbled some obscenities before Nate elbowed me in the side.

  “Those of you who were here for the last auditions know the drill,” Mr. Rivera took over. “All students interested in a crew position should sign up at the table in the back corner.”

  “Only actors and actresses are permitted to stay for the auditions,” Miss Holt added.

  Nate clenched his fist while Bridget clapped her hands in excitement.

  “Let's get started!” Miss Holt cheered.

  The two teachers moved off the stage and to their usual desk at the far end of the room. I recognized many of the students who crowded them; some who worked on the last show and a few from different classes. Nate draped his arm around me as we walked toward sign-ups.

  “Mr. Bryan,” Alex said. “Miss Ghijk...”

  “Steph is here to sign up for costumes—”

  “Nathaniel, if you're not signing up for a crew you need to run along and wait with the other actors,” Miss Holt snapped.

  “I'm okay,” I whispered to him. I leaned down, signed the sheet in front of me, and turned to leave.

  “Abcdef.” Her shrill voice pierced through me.

  “Yes?”

  “A resume?”

  I took a step back and whipped around, leaning to look down on her, as she had done to me many times before. “I think you’re well aware of what I'm capable of, Miss Holt. My services are on the table. Take it or leave it.”

  With that, I walked back to the front row.

  “Abcdef Ghijk,” a beautiful voice called from the furthest corner. “You are not permitted to stay for the auditions--”

  “I'm wishing my friends good luck, Mr. Rivera,” I snapped.

  I approached Nate and Bridge and extended my arms for a hug. “Break a leg, guys,” I said quietly.

  Bridget pulled away and smiled. “He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts.”

  Friday March 16

  Callbacks were in three hours. Bridget and Rachel were going head to head for the lead female role of Marian the Librarian. I'd be doing just as I hoped— leading the costume crew through another stunning production. Nate, on the other hand, was attending the callback session tonight having already been cast as Professor Harold Hill. Two leads in a row... maybe Nate had found his calling.

  Mom and Calvin were gone for the weekend on a mini-vacation; it was their last big hurrah before the wedding in three weeks. As always, I was left to enjoy my own company.

  Don't touch anything that belongs to mommy.

  Yeah right.

  You know you're going to...

  As I often did when she was nowhere around, I soaked in her clawfoot tub for over an hour. Once every surface on my skin bore a striking resemblance to a prune, I jumped out of the bath and took a stroll through mom's master closet. One thing I can give her credit for is her impeccable sense of fashion.

  I stood in front of the mirror and tried on six different sun dresses.

  Fitting into mom’s clothes was proof enough that I was officially a perfect size zero.

  I eventually trekked into my own room and slipped into a one-of-a-kind cocktail dress designed by the Rivera's grandmother, celebrity fashion designer Adriana Holbrook. The green material hung loosely from my body. Depressed that it no longer fit, I slid out of the genuine Holbrook design and strutted down the hall to search mom's closet once again. In the very back, tucked away from the everyday clothing, was an incredibly overpriced wedding gown; to be worn by Caroline Ghijk on April 07.

  I pulled the garment bag out and stretched it across her bed. I unzipped the silver zipper and lifted the heavy dress into my arms.

  Don't touch anything that belongs to mommy! Boy, if she could see me now...

  I slipped the white material over my body and fastened a seemingly endless line of buttons. I stepped back to examine myself.

  “Something’s missing...” I said, looking around the room. I spotted a long, black box under the corner of the bed and plucked it out. I tore off the lid and brought the sheer, white veil upward and secured it into to my hair. “That's better.”

  I twirled in front of the mirror and smiled for the first time in weeks.

  This was the luckiest dress in the world... it was going to marry a Rivera.

  The doorbell rang.

  “Crap,” I whispered, stepping quietly in to the hallway. I tiptoed down the stairs, holding the dress high to keep it from dragging the floor. I checked the peephole on the front door.

  “Open up, Steph,” Nate yelled. “I can hear you…”

  “Okay,” I said loudly. “But you have to promise me one thing—”

  “Hurry up. I'm getting soaked!”

  “Promise!”

  “I promise, I'll... do...or not do... whatever you want me to do... or not do...”

  I cracked the door. He pushed through and stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Whatcha doin', Steph?”

  I twirled in a circle, much like I had done alone in the bedroom upstairs. “What if I never get to wear a wedding dress, Nate?”

  “Oh, boy,” he finally closed the door. “Steph, listen to me.” I admired the laced sleeves on the gown before Nate snapped his finger in my face. “You need to go upstairs and take this off.”

  “But--”

  “No.” He raised his voice. “This is it. You're done. No more of this poor, baby Steph—”

  “Nate,” I said, fighting tears.

  “Tough love, babe,” he continued. “You have to snap out of this.” He nudged me toward the steps. “Come, on. Up you go.” Nate stopped at the top of the stairs and gently pushed me across the threshold of mom's bedroom. “Right back where you found it. I'll wait in your room.”

  I barely had time to take the veil off my head before I heard a loud crash come from the end of the hall. “Nate?” I bolted down the hallway and into the open door.

  “Steph,” he looked up. “I'm so sorry.”

  At his feet, shattered on the floor, was the picture frame he'd given me for my birthday.

  “You did that on purpose,” I accused him.

  “No,” he shook his head.

  “Is this your idea of tough love?”

  “It was an accident,” he said, seemingly sincere. “I turned.... he scared the crap outta me.”

  “Who?”

  “Tarzan.” He pointed outside.

  I looked out my window to see Alex perched on the branch of the giant oak. He stared at me with sad eyes while rain poured on top of him.

  “I'll let you two talk,” Nate said, cleaning up the shards of broken glass on the floor. “I'll be downstairs if you need anything.”

  He left the room and I turned back to look at our teacher. I rushed to the window and unhooked the latch.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. “You're gonna get sick—”

  “Please talk to me,” he begged. “Please.”

  I helped him inside. He stared at the wedding gown and ignored it, probably choosing his battles.

  “Yell at me. Hit me. Beat me senseless, Steph. But don't leave—”

  “I'm done—”

  “No,” he said, taking me into his wet arms. I pulled away from him and walked toward the door. “Steph, stop. Stay here and talk to me.”

  “….Just… give me a few minutes.”

  I moved down the hallway and back into mom's bedroom. I slipped out of the dress and veil and tucked them away. I went downstairs and forced Nate to leave. Not an easy fight to win, might I add.

  I returned to my room to
find Alex holding the glassless picture frame. “Where did you get—”

  “Nate,” I said, taking it from his hands. “You have one nosy neighbor.”

  “I guess so...” He sat down on the corner of the bed as I turned to sit on the window seat.

  Silence lingered for a few long minutes. I watched him as he stared at the floor. Neither of us wanted to be the first to speak up.

  “Okay,” I finally said. “Did you know Nate only auditioned for Romeo and Juliet because he lost a bet to Bridget?”

  “Yes.”

  “He thought you would be engaged to Miss Holt by the beginning of the school year.”

  “Steph—”

  “I'm talking,” I cut him off. “Your girlfriend treated me like crap when I moved here. She's been nothing but rude, snide, and—”

  “I don't control Karen—”

  “And during a fall rehearsal she took a call with her mother,” I continued, ignoring his comment. “Oh, mom. I'm sorry, I can't. I'm going to dinner with Alex.” He sighed and buried his face in his hands. “I should have known, but I couldn't believe that you would ever stoop so low.”

  “I'm not—”

  “We found her in your classroom on Valentine’s day... and then the way you walked in together at the restaurant—”

  “Stop!” Alex yelled. He stood up and moved across the room to sit next to me. “Okay, fine. I dated Karen two years ago, yes. I cared about her, but I didn't love her. We had a good thing going. Then Christmas came and she couldn't handle the depression. Apparently I had too much baggage. I suffered through Christmas alone, Steph. I had no one. Calvin had just opened the new restaurant, Gran and Pops were out of the country, and Blake has never been much of a confidant. After the spring time came, she was back at my doorstep. She wanted to rekindle the relationship we had had before winter. She begged for a second chance.”

  “And...?”

  “I considered her proposal,” he admitted. “But then school started. A week into the quarter this beautiful, talented, shy young lady stepped into my room...” He ran his fingers through his hair and grinned. “Karen asked me out every day for weeks after you moved here... I never went. Not once. I couldn't get you out of my mind. I shouldn't have kissed you,” he continued. “I thought I could wait, but staying away from you was impossible.”

  “So, you’re saying it was a mistake?”

  “Nate stopped by one night in January. He told me how much he cares for you, and he couldn't sit back and watch you waiting for something that was doomed to fail. Isaac kept sending threats, and...” He rubbed his once-blackened eye. “He's serious about his follow-through.”

  “Isaac did that?”

  “Calvin threatened to tell Gran, Steph. He knew as well as I did that she'd take the internship right out from under you.”

  “Adriana isn't—”

  “She's a great woman, kiddo. But she's also a vindictive little shrew.”

  “What about—”

  “I was in a hurry to leave on Valentine’s Day. I just wanted to get to you with the gifts when Karen bombarded me, begging me to spend the evening with her... I left her standing there and didn't look back.”

  “Oh...” I suddenly felt ridiculous.

  “I left so fast I didn't even grab my stuff.”

  “Okay?”

  “She went through my phone, Steph,” he said. “Call logs, pictures... texts...”

  I covered my mouth. “I sent you—”

  “Yup,” he nodded. “She read it before I ever had a chance.”

  “She knew it was me?”

  “She had everything she needed. Proof. There was nothing I could do--”

  “So she blackmailed you into dating her again?”

  “It's embarrassing when you hear it out loud.”

  “I don't want you seeing her—”

  “Dinner with her parents once a week to hold up appearances. She never told them that we split up. She's been lying to her family for two years.”

  “What about Calvera's?”

  “We'd just finished dinner. She insisted on stopping by and saying hello to Cal once her mom and dad left. I had no idea you were there, Steph. Honest to God—”

  “Why didn't you tell me?” I took his hands for the first time in weeks.

  “I've always been in control...”

  Once upon a time, he used to be able to silence a room with one word; sometimes with nothing more than a raise of his hand. Students respected him. Teachers envied his leadership.

  And now, Cal and Adriana influence his decisions.

  Nate and Isaac hold power over him.

  Karen Holt controls him...

  “Once a week,” I finally said. “You can handle that, right?”

  “Can you?”

  I smirked. “I suppose.”

  We both sat silently and tried to stomach the idea of continuing the string of lies and secrets. He lifted his head and stared at me with his dark, brown eyes.

  “I'm seeing Karen...”

  “And I'm seeing Nate...”

  “And we're...”

  “Waiting.”

  Though he said it himself, I'd never been less convinced.

  How do you wait to love the person you were meant to be with?

  Chapter Seven

  Friday March 30

  Here's the skinny.

  Bridget's mom caught her sneaking out last week to visit her Ken doll boyfriend. Now she's on lockdown until the end of the month. Of course, school and school-related functions are all green light activities; meaning, Bridget can still show up for rehearsals to carry out the leading female role in The Music Man.

  Much to Rachel's chagrin, she'd been cast as the understudy once again.

  Calvin and I had been hiding at the restaurant nearly every evening. If I didn't have to be at school for rehearsal, I chose to be at Calvera's and as far away from Bridezilla as possible. The closer it got to the wedding... the worse she became. There were only eight remaining days until Caroline Ghijk would be an official Mrs. Rivera.

  And, yes. Okay. I'm jealous.

  Tonight was no special occasion; we were hiding from mom. I sat in my usual spot on the bar stool in the back corner while Cal worked his way around the kitchen with the rest of the staff.

  “Let me whip something up for you,” Cal begged.

  “I'm not hungry.”

  I'd told this lie so much lately I was beginning to believe it myself.

  “You're skin and bones, Steph. No offense, but it's getting hard to even look at you—”

  “Gee, thanks—”

  He held his hands up. “I said no offense.”

  I looked at my wrists and cringed. I didn't want to believe him, but he was right. I appeared and felt much too skeletal.

  Along with weight, I'd lost my patience, stability, and momentum for getting through each day. I needed to rekindle a relationship with food, though I knew the consequences. Still, it couldn't hurt to start eating again. The wedding is a week away. There's no way I could outgrow the dress by then.

  “Fine,” I gave in. “But nothing too extravagant—”

  “Yes!” He clapped his hands and scurried to the freezer.

  Nick looked over his shoulder and smirked.

  “We've been seeing quite a bit of you lately—”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Mom's not the easiest person to be around when she's stressed—”

  “Tell me about it,” he said. “Women... you're all kinda hard to... tolerate from time to time.”

  “Well, at least you're not stereotypical,” I mumbled, sarcastically. “How's Isaac been lately? I haven't seen him much since rehearsals started—”

  “He's good,” he said. “A li
ttle backward, though. He's just missing his after school time with Bridge.”

  “Yeah, I'm sure she's not liking her sentence much either.”

  “Sometimes it's good to give teenagers a break from each other. You know, with all the raging hormones—”

  “Right,” I said, awkwardly.

  “I wish someone would have been there to ground me when I jumped out a window in the middle of the night. You never really realize how necessary rules are until it's too late. Know what I mean?”

  “Um..”

  “Sex. Pregnancy. Babies—”

  “Ugh...” I'm not the one you should be having a sex talk with, mister!

  “I want things to be different for Isaac,” he started. “He deserves a bright future.”

  “You're pretty young,” I interrupted. “I guess he was the result of a broken rule? A teenage mistake?”

  “I'd never call my children mistakes,” he said. “Unexpected surprises, sure.”

  “Children?”

  He nodded.

  “Food, for my second favorite Ghijk,” Cal sat a full plate in front of me. “Eat up, darling. Let's get some meat on those bones!”

  Friday April 06

  “This can't be right,” I squealed, sucking in a huge breath of air. “Try again.”

  Bridget fought the zipper.

  “Yeah, not gonna happen,” she said after another minute.

  “The wedding is tomorrow, Bridget. I have to fit into this dress!”

  “I'm telling you, Steph. It's too small—”

  “I'm too big!”

  “Steph--”

  “No! Oh my God... she's going to kill me!”

  “Steph,” Nate said from the computer chair. “You're an expert at this. Why not adjust it?”

  “Oh gee,” I said sarcastically. “Why didn't I think of that?”

  “Chill,” he rolled his eyes. “Don't bite my head off.”

  My cell phone rang on the nightstand next to Nate. He picked it up and stared with wide eyes.

  “Um, Steph... it's... your uncle.”

  I jumped across the bed with my dress hanging open and answered the call without hesitation.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Alex said from the other end. “Have a sec?”