Backstage Cues

Chapter Two

by Kelson Vibber, Sherry Sung, and Wayne Sung

(Kelson)

Everything was slow the next morning. I hit the snooze button on my alarm three times, I took longer than usual in the shower, and I would have been late to Chem if I hadn't skipped breakfast. Unfortunately, I picked the exact same moment to walk in the door as someone else.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

The other person just grunted in reply, and when I looked up it was -- of course -- Suzie.

I felt an instant adrenaline kick, but for a much different reason than last time. Fumbling for words, I blurted out, "How's your leg?"

She was actually civil when she responded. Maybe she figured I hadn't see or heard about the wiring closet because I wasn't at rehearsal.

"Well, my act's OK, but there's no way that bruise is going to heal by Friday."

The tide of people shoved us inside and we each headed for our usual seats. How I wished Talia were in the same section! As it was I'd have to wait until at least break, if not longer, to find out if what happened the night before meant to her what it meant to me.

(Sherry)

For most of Chem class, I kept my eyes on Suzie. This wasn't too hard as her seat was only two seats ahead and one to the right of mine. She didn't seem to notice, and she never even turned around except once ten minutes into class when she dropped her pencil. She had to reach back to retrieve it and she glanced up at me as she did so. Some sort of emotion crossed her face but it was gone before I could make out what it had been. One thing for certain: it hadn't looked friendly.

As soon as the bell rang for the end of first period, Suzie was up and out of the classroom. I took a few moments to pack up my stuff, sighing at my near-empty page of Chem notes. I'd have to borrow someone else's later.

"Hey, Will!" I looked up towards the front of the room. Mrs. Tanner, my Chem teacher was looking at me from behind her desk. "How was rehearsal yesterday?" she asked, giving me a warm smile which I suddenly had a lot of trouble returning.

"Uh, okay," I replied vaguely. I really didn't have any idea how rehearsal had gone, but I didn't want to get into any long explanations. Luckily, pass period was only five minutes long, so I had a legitimate reason to scram out of the classroom before she could ask me any questions.

I stopped by my locker on the way to Precalc like I normally did, but this day I stared at the yellow-painted metal for a while before slowly reaching for the combination lock on it.

She didn't mean any of it, I told myself. And it had been just a metaphor, after all. No way a locker could be rigged that way. . .

My scalp prickled. I felt as if someone had put me in a stiff cold suit of some kind, one which was stuck tight to my skin. My fingers bushed the combo lock.

Something snagged around my neck and pulled me backwards.

"Yaaaaah!" I screamed. I'd been doing that a lot lately, a quiet part of me mused.

The pressure was released immediately and I spun around, panting, to see Roderigo a.k.a. Hotrod, one of my best friends since kindergarten. He was giving me a funny look.

"Sorry, man," he said. "It was just a joke."

I straightened and stuffed my hands in my pockets, trying to look casual and to keep the tenseness in my arms from showing. "Hey, uh, morning, Hotrod. Sorry, I was, uh, thinking of something else."

He raised an eyebrow then seemed to shrug it off. "You getting your book?" he asked, pointing his chin at my locker. "Better hurry or we'll be late. And you know how Mr. Catherbury gets when people come in after the bell." He made a passable imitation of our wizened old math teacher's famous expression of indignant fury. I couldn't help but laugh at it, and, before the spell of my imagination could take hold again, I grabbed my locker's combo lock, twirled it, and opened my locker quickly.

Nothing happened. Of course.

Which was fortunate, because if there was anything that ticked off Mr. Catherbury worse than tardy students, it was unprepared students.

I grabbed my Precalc book, tossed in my Chem book, and slammed the locker shut again. "Let's go."

We headed across campus at a half-run.

"Hey," Hotrod said after a moment, "we didn't see you at rehearsal yesterday. Where were you?"

I fumbled, trying to remember the excuse I'd come up with last night only to remember that I'd forgotten to do so. I contemplated the notion of telling him I'd been sick, then wondered if maybe I should tell him the truth. But he spoke again before I could decide on one or the other.

" 'Cause something really weird happened."

I tensed. "What happened?" I asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

"Well, I guess 'weird' isn't quite the word to describe it. Some vandals or something must've broken in. When we got there, there was paint spilled all over the stage and backstage. The floor, the walls, everywhere. Took us forever to clean it all up. The school will have to repaint everything, I think."

I breathed a little easier, feeling a hot flash of anger replacing the former chill in my body. "Vandals, huh? Man, what creeps! What are we going to do for the show tonight?"

Hotrod shrugged and we walked on in silence for a moment. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I was seething. All thoughts of Suzie were out of my head. How could somebody do this to us?! After all the work we'd put into the show. And after all the money the school had put in to build the theatre in the first place. It was still new!

We were almost to the door of our math class when Hotrod laughed in a queer sort of way. "Y'know what was creepy, though?" he said, stopping just outside the doorway. "The paint was this bright red color, and it was still wet when we got there, so it looked sorta like, well, like blood. Isn't that just totally freaky?" He laughed that strange laugh again and slipped through the door just as the bell rang for the beginning of second period.

I stood outside for a while, images from my dream last night suddenly coming back to me in vivid detail. I shuddered and prepared myself to meet Mr. Catherbury's wrath for being late. Though a lecture and maybe detention couldn't possibly compare to what I'm feeling now, I thought.

Two more periods before I could talk to Talia. . .

*    *    *    *

(Wayne)

"Talia!"

In the sparse hallway, Talia whirled around, eyes wide. A deer trapped in a car's headlights. Upon seeing me, however, she relaxed -- marginally -- and forced a nervous smile.

"Sorry, Will. I- I thought you were someone else."

I nodded. I knew how she felt. "Yeah, I saw Suzie today in Chem, and she was actually civil, but the look she gave me in class was . . ." Eerie.

The last of the crowd rushing to the cafeteria sped past.

Talia nodded this time. "I got a look from her in Drama this morning. Hurt, anger, and hope all rolled into a tight knot of something I can't comprehend the meaning of." She pulled a strand of hair to her lip, chewing it absently. "I can't shake the feeling that she's a time bomb waiting to go off. I'm-"

I gently pushed the strand of hair away, my eyes asking the silent question.

"I'm scared, Will." Her eyes met mine and I knew her answer.

Love is divine.

*    *    *    *

"Hey, at least we don't have to worry about excuses for missing rehearsal last night."

Talia and I were partaking lunch with the rest of the student rabble.

Talia crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward. "You think it was Suzie that vandalized the theatre? You know, to cover her tracks?"

I stopped in midchew. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. Suzie may have been a bitch but until last night, I had never thought her capable of being a vandal, too. Yet it was so obvious. If we could recognize her handwriting, other people may, as well. The covering-her-tracks theory made perfect sense. Though she didn't have to go overboard with the red paint. . .

"Hey, dude and dudette, what's with the hush-hush? Need me to liven up your meal?"

Hotrod.

"Go choke on your mystery meat, 'Rod." I backslapped him on the arm, playfully but purposefully. "Ms. Talia and I are having a conversation."

"Ooo." Hotrod rolled his eyes. "Not a 'chat' but a 'conversation.' What's with the serious talk now?"

Talia looked up with a sly smile. "We were just talking about how we are going to catch the theatre vandal."

We were?

Home	Read Intro	Previous Chapter	Next Chapter