Understudy (20 page)

It was totally unexpected, and he was surprised himself as well. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just...I'm just jittery. I had three cups of coffee this morning."

"Oh, wow," I said, glad of the sudden change of topic. "My Mom prepared me a breakfast for champions."

"She knows you're not performing, right?" he asked, wincing. "I hope you didn't set up high expectations."

"Of course she knows! But she's supportive. Both my parents are."

"Must be nice."

Looking at him, I saw the same envy in his eyes whenever Adam and I talked about our parents. If Adam longed for his parents, then what was it like for Eric? It wasn't a secret that Adam was the favorite child, and I used to understand why. But now, looking at him in his Tiny Tim costume with his hair styled and everything, I had a hard time picturing the same Eric I met dropping the F−word in Mr. Darby's class just a few months ago.

I wanted to know what made him like that. What had left him scarred, and transformed him into such a selfish asshole? From what Adam had told me, Eric wasn't always like that, but he refused to tell me the details. I didn't believe him then. I did now.

"Come on, it's time to go inside before Sara convinces Mr. Blake to replace you with Keith."

Eric snorted. "Yeah, like that would happen."

***

Mr. Blake's relief was obvious when Eric finally showed up. We all gathered once again as he spouted words of encouragement. At the end of his speech, he asked us the put our hands together, like basketball players do before a game. We felt silly but we did anyway.

We shouted "Scrooge," because it was the only thing we came up with that wasn't cheesy or hard to scream in unison,  and we were running out of time.

A minute later, the curtain was raised and Teddy Bowman, our narrator, was up on stage.

The next minutes became a blur as Tina, Diana and I made sure that everything was moving smoothly, production wise. We only had a few breaks to actually watch what was happening on stage before we had to run backstage and prepare for the next scene.

Drake and Sara were perfect in their roles, and Nigel had delivered his lines without stuttering.

"Enjoying the show?" Eric asked, as he stood beside me behind the curtain.

I nodded.

"Nigel is pretty good," he said.

"He is," I said. "And you'll go out there in a few minutes.”

"Yeah." He had his cap on and his crutch propped under his arm. He may be too old to play Tiny Tim, but that night he totally transformed himself as he climbed the stage. It was like watching a different person, one I didn't recognize.

The audience was quiet at first, and though they didn't say it out loud, I could almost hear them thinking,
Isn't he the twin brother of the young man who died last summer?
Highcrest was a small town; they may not know the exact story or even Eric's name, but they recognized him.

Even people backstage dropped whatever they were doing to watch him. The anticipation was so palpable you could almost taste it.

Eric didn't have many lines in his scenes, but those few moments he was up on the stage were the highlights of the whole show. The energy he put into his character made you want to reach out and smother him with hugs and kisses. He was adorable.

Even Mr. Blake was left speechless as he watched from behind the curtain.

"Who knew the kid could act?" he said as I stood next to him. "He's completely transformed himself out there."

"It's unbelievable," I said.

"Do you think he has aspirations to perform on Broadway someday?"

"I don't know."

"What are his plans after graduation?" There was an unmistakable glimmer in Mr. Blake's eyes, almost like a fan girl watching her favorite band perform live on stage. "Surely he must've told you."

It occurred to me that while I told Eric my plans after graduation, he didn't tell me his. I didn't even ask him. "I'm sorry but I really don't know."

Mr. Blake looked surprised, but then his face turned red and he immediately shifted his attention back to the stage. "Oh, sorry. I assumed..." his voice trailed off, and before I could ask what it was he assumed, his face brightened up like a lighted candle. "Oh, it's Tiny Tim's song!"

Now it was my turn to get distracted. "What?!" I didn't even know Tiny Tim had a song, or that Eric could sing.

Before I could wrap my head around the whole idea of Eric singing in front of a live audience, the song started to play.

I was lost for words. He didn't have a to-die-for voice, but he didn't sound pitchy at all. My knowledge of music was less than nothing, but hearing Eric belt it out and  seeing the audience's expressions, I think it was safe to say that he was good. Adam could hardly carry a tune at all.

That's when I remembered that I should be recording this for him. He had wanted to see Eric perform. But I was too moved by the performance to make an effort to grab my phone, which I realized I left in my bag, somewhere backstage, which meant I'd miss some parts of the show. And I didn't want to miss any second of it.

When it was time for the final scene, the cast assembled on stage, singing
, We Wish You A Merry Christmas
which ended with everybody shouting, "God bless us, every one!"

The applause was thunderous and seemed to go on for eternity. Mr. Blake went on stage and asked everybody to come up. My initial reaction was to stand beside Sara, but her eyes just passed me by without actually seeing me, and she seemed to be discussing something funny with Drake.

Then out of nowhere, someone grabbed my hand and I was being pulled to the center of the stage. There were people everywhere I turned and I had a hard time figuring out who kidnapped me, but as we emerged from the crowd and into the glare of the bright stage lights, I finally saw who it was.

"You deserve this too," Eric said. He was beaming from ear to ear and his face shone under the bright lights. He looked somewhat ethereal.

"You were amazing," I said.

He removed his hat and smirked. "I told you I'd rock the stage."

"And you did."

Everyone held hands and took a bow. We did it three times since people wouldn't stop applauding, and it felt good.

When everything finally died down, people started dispersing, grinning as they talked about how great the show was.

Eric led me backstage still holding my hand and I heard someone scream, "See you guys at the party!"

Eric stopped and looked around to see who it was, but there were a lot of people so he just gave up.

"How were you able to get your parents to agree to the party?" I asked.

"They didn't."

"But−"

"They're barely home, and what they don't know won't hurt them," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And besides, throwing a party is easy, especially if you know the right people to call."

"Then how come you seemed to be against it at first?"

Eric shook his head. "I'm not really against it. It's just that I have attended a lot of parties, enough to fill a whole lifetime. It gets boring."

"Yet you decided to host this one."

"Because you challenged me."

I was about to point out the way he talked about spontaneity, but there was something about the way he looked at me that melted the words away from my tongue.

"You always challenge me, you know that? I wouldn't be up there if it weren't for the way you looked at me the first few months I came here."

"How did I look at you?" I asked.

"Like I amounted to nothing."

I didn't expect that. "I... Wow, I'm sorry..."

"Look, it's okay," he said. "It's what made me realize that I can do better if I want to be better."

"So you went to become a Broadway star?" I said, trying to make light of things.

"No, that's something I'm really good at."

"And apparently, you're good at making your own props. You seem to be athletic as well, and you read books. You can do anything."

Pain flickered briefly in his eyes, though it was gone as soon as it came. He took a step forward.

"No, I can't." He finally let go of my hand. "I wish I could, but I can't."

His words flooded me with a familiar sense of sadness, like somehow, I felt exactly how he felt.

He placed his hands on my shoulder, and it was in that moment that I realized that I needed to be held. There were so many emotions running through my head that it felt like I was being pulled in all directions. I was happy with how the play came out, I was sad that I couldn't tell Sara how great she was, I was disappointed that I wasn't able to record the whole thing for Adam, and finally, I was confused between choosing the right thing over something that felt right and wrong at the same time.

My breathing started to hitch as I tried to deal with one emotion at a time, but the erratic beating of my heart felt like a ticking time bomb, squeezing the air out of my lungs. I needed to choose. So I decided to choose something that felt easy. Something spontaneous.

I decided to let go.

I let Eric kiss me.

Chapter Twenty−Five

For a brief moment the world had ceased to exist. The ticking in my chest had stopped as well, allowing me to focus on how soft and gentle his lips were, as I felt my worries slowly drifting away. It only lasted a few seconds, but in that short span of time I was jolted awake by the realization that I had already fallen too far.

I opened my eyes and took a step back. I felt disoriented, like waking up in someone else's bedroom.

Everything around us was still moving, people congratulating each other for a job well done. It was as if we weren't even in the room.

"I can't do this," I said.

Eric looked at me, his expression guarded.

"I can't do this," I repeated, as if doing so could undo the last few seconds. But it was too late.

Eric ran a his hand across his face, exhaling as he did. "Why?"

"Because I can't!" I said. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Why?" he asked again, louder this time. "Because I'm not Adam?"

Adam's name felt like a stab in my stomach, and the fact that Eric was right about it twisted the blade deeper, spilling my guts.

I didn't answer. I didn't have to. I whirled around looking for my bag. I had to get out of here. But there was stuff everywhere and people were scrambling for their belongings. It was chaos.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked, following behind me.

I didn't answer. Hot angry tears streamed down my face and I concentrated on looking for my bag to keep myself from losing control.

"You can't just walk away like that!" he said, his voice seething with anger.

I kept ignoring him, but then I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Kat−"

"I'm looking for my freaking bag!" I said, recoiling from his touch.

He didn't answer, and I was so angry that my hands were shaking. People were starting to stare, and I was beginning to feel claustrophobic. I needed air. I had to get away from all these people. From him.

I gave up searching for my bag and turned the other way, elbowing my way through the crowd as I eyed the exit. When I finally reached the double doors, I pushed it open and took off.

***

Running felt as natural as breathing now. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, I couldn't get to Adam fast enough. It was like moving in slow motion. My side started to burn and my chest felt like it was going to explode.

When I finally reached the woods, the sun had almost set. I leaned on a tree as I sucked in a lungful of cold air which scraped my airways like a dish scrub. Still, I took every lungful like it was my last.

My face was still wet with salty tears and I immediately wiped it dry with the back of my hand. I didn't want Adam to see me like this. Ironic, since he was the person I went to whenever I was a mess.

I expected him to emerge from the trees, or to suddenly appear behind me so he could wrap his arms around my body. But he was nowhere to be seen. I waited for a while with fear slowly brewing in my chest.

Adam was always there when I came. He had never let me wait for him.

"Adam?" My voice trembled, and my hands started to feel cold, though I doubted it had anything to do with the cold weather.

I pushed myself deeper into the woods, thinking that he might be waiting by the lake. I began shouting his name.

"Adam!"

Adam, Adam, Adam.

The sound of my voice startled me, and it took me a moment to realize that it was just an echo.

"Adam!"

Adam, Adam, Adam.

The sky was growing darker and I felt myself shiver. I stumbled a few times but I kept moving.

I almost didn't recognize the lake when I saw it. Without the sun, the surface looked still and the dandelions looked dried and shriveled. It was hard to believe that this was the same place Adam had brought me a few months back.

"Adam!"

Adam, Adam, Adam.

My body went numb and my palms started to sweat. I had no way of actually knowing, but standing there alone in the darkness, something told me that Adam was gone, for good. I wanted it to be untrue, but as the seconds ticked by without him showing up, the more I was convinced that he really was gone.

A familiar sense of dread filled my chest and I felt the tears building up. As much as I tried to avoid it, I had been imagining this moment. In a way, I was preparing myself for it, but, pain is unpredictable. Just when you think you're already immune to it, that having felt it before exempts you from succumbing back to its unforgiving waves, it comes back in a tsunami swallowing you into its belly and sucking up any hope you may have had of trying to be whole again. Because when you were tossed and turned repeatedly the first time, you knew you were broken for good. That no amount of time and healing could make you whole again, not when the very person that made you complete was gone.

I sank on the ground and hugged my knees, holding myself together as the first wave of grief hit me squarely on the chest, knocking my breath away. Tears rolled down my face and I stared at the lake until I could no longer see it.