Understudy
“What do you think, boss?” Greg asks, stepping over a pile of extension cords.
I shake my head. “We still have a lot to do.”
His hand presses against the small of my back. “We’ll get it. Stop worrying.”
I turn to him and smile. He can be a total asshole sometimes, but he’s still a decent guy. He hasn’t acted weird at all since that night he asked me to be his girlfriend. Part of me wonders if he just doesn’t remember it due to being drunk.
My stomach tightens as Derek walks up carrying three rolls of carpet over his shoulder. He leans them against the wall. “Floor Liquidators gave this to us for free in exchange for listing them in our play brochure.”
“Kick ass,” Greg says, running his hands over the first roll. “This is some quality shit. You rock man.”
I cross my hands over my chest and let out a deep breath of disappointment. “Yeah good job making decisions without consulting the director,” I snap. “What if I don’t want their advertisement in the brochure?”
Derek’s eyebrows draw together. “They’re a family owned business. They also have that scholarship you were talking about. I thought you’d be psyched.”
Anger rolls through my stomach. I told him that when I liked him. How dare he remember it now. Shouldn’t he be remembering things about his own girlfriend? I throw my hands in the air. “You know what? Who cares what the director thinks. Just do whatever the hell you want. Your community service hours are all you care about anyhow.”
Derek’s jaw tightens. Greg kneels and studies the pile of extension cords in the corner, as if that makes this any less awkward.
Gwen yells my name from onstage with a wardrobe crisis that she needs me to fix. For once, I’m grateful for her interference.
A few hours later, I wrap up rehearsal with some bullshit motivational speech and compliment everyone on their excellent acting. Now I know why teachers say stuff like this all the time. Just a few words of encouragement really boosts everyone’s spirit. No one needs to know that I truly don’t care if the play sucks. I just need it to be performed on opening night. I just need my recommendation letter so I can get the hell out of here and make something of my life.
Derek and I normally walk to our cars together after rehearsal. But since he got arrested three days ago, I started parking on the other side of the school. I knew that if and when he came back I would never walk with him again. He may be gorgeous and smart, but he’s bad news. And I won’t fall for liking him again.
I shove my cell phone in my back pocket after switching it from silent back to normal mode. Rehearsal went longer than usual today and I have to squint to block the setting sun as dusk falls over the parking lot.
A warm hand grabs my elbow. I stop as a sharp stab of fear shoots through me. The chances of someone hiding out in the back of a high school parking lot to kidnap me are slim.
That leaves only one other explanation.
“Wren…” Derek’s voice is soft. Unhinged.
I turn to face him, my jaw set. I will not allow his handsome face sway me. I’ve made my decision to ignore him. I will not change my mind. “What?”
He drops my elbow and scratches the back of his neck. “Why are you treating me like this?” The pain in his voice makes my heart skip a beat. “Seriously, Wren. Please talk to me.”
I walk toward my car, focusing on my shoelaces. “Why were you arrested?”
He sighs. “That wasn’t my fault.”
“So you were found innocent? And they let you go because you did nothing wrong?” My voice is all sarcasm but he nods anyway.
“Yes. Sort of.”
My lips press into a thin line and I hold on to my backpack straps like my life depends on it. “Well good. I’m sure your girlfriend will be happy to hear that.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend. I wish you would believe that.” He reaches for my arm again but I pull away.
“I wish I could believe that too,” I snap, dropping my backpack on the hood of my car. The moment our eyes meet, mine fill with tears. I am so glad I parked far away from everyone else. “I liked you, Derek. A lot.”
My words hang in the air. Silence overtakes the space between us and I clench my jaw tight to keep from crying. Derek shoves his hands in his pockets and gnaws on his bottom lip. “But you don’t anymore?”
I shake my head. “How could I? All you do is lie to me.”
He opens his mouth and then closes it, his eyes looking from my left eye to my right one. “What if all the bad you thought about me wasn’t true? What if I could prove it?”
Oh no. Cracks form in the walls of my tough, no nonsense façade. A tiny flicker of hope sparks in my chest. What if he could prove it? What if he could make it so that everything was okay again? I shake my head and pull open the car door, shoving my backpack in the passenger seat.