Falling From Grace (34 page)

We had an audience, and from the sound of the buzzing coming from behind me, coupled with the nonstop rumble of feet, it was a large one.
 
I kept trying to turn my face to see, my hands getting sweaty with panic, but Robert shook his head, his hand still holding my chin, his other hand gripping mine.
 
You don’t need to see it to know it’s there.
 
Focus on what you have to do.
 
I’m here.
 
It’s going to be fine.

I looked into his eyes, seeing my reflection in them and realizing that I was showing more in my face than I ever could with just my mind, and that everyone could see just how I was feeling.
 
Including Erica, who walked past us just then, her face wearing the same smug smile I had denied myself earlier this morning.

It was that smile that finally snapped me back into focus.
 
Robert knew it, too.
 
He let go of my chin, but continued to watch me.
 

“I’ll be fine.
 
I’m fine.
 
I can do this.”
 
I reached for my book bag, which he had placed by his feet, and unzipped it.
 
I grabbed the blue folder that held my soliloquy for Erica and pulled it out.
 
Sticking the folder between my teeth, I reached for my crutches and stood up.
 

Robert pulled the folder out of my mouth, smiling.
 
“I don’t think she’ll appreciate you getting spit all over her dialogue.”
 

I shrugged my shoulders as I placed the cumbersome crutches underneath my arms and then snatched the folder out of Robert’s hand.
 
“I don’t think that really matters right now, do you?
 
She’s going to crucify me in front of all of these people, and she’s going to enjoy every second of it.
 
The only thing I have on my side is the truth, and that won’t matter much to any of them.”
 
I motioned to the people behind me with the folder in my hand.

Robert grabbed my elbow, his rock solid strength effectively stopping me from moving.
 
“You’re wrong.
 
You also have Stacy on your side.
 
And Graham…”
 
He motioned with his head at someone who was approaching us.

I hesitated to look, unsure if he’d grab my chin again to prevent me from seeing who it was that was headed directly for us.
 
When I was positive that he wouldn’t stop me, I turned my head to see Graham, a determined expression on his face.

What is he doing?
 
I looked at Robert again, panic flooding into me.

He wants to know what’s going on.
 
He didn’t know that you and Erica were in the same class.
 
Or that I was as well.

Oh dear bananas.
 
The last thing I needed was a confrontation between Robert and Graham.
 
And in front of what was starting to look like half of the student body, too.

Taking a few deep breaths, I turned my body completely around to face Graham.
 
“What are you doing here?”

He looked at Robert’s hand on my elbow, and then back at me.
 
“Erica told me that she had a thing today for her dramatics class.
 
She didn’t tell me that you were in the same class with her.
 
She didn’t tell me a lot about this class, actually,” he said, glancing back at Robert, his eyes mere slits.

I was sick.
 
Whatever it was that Erica had planned for today was going to hurt Graham, too, and she had meant for me to be the one to do it.
 
I looked at Robert’s face and his eyes were cold steel, his mouth a grim line.
 
Both confirmed my suspicions.
 
My head started spinning, and I could see the little black and white dots twinkling in front of my eyes, like snow on the television set; the precursor to the dreaded faint.
 
How utterly appropriate.

Take some deep breaths, Gee.

It wasn’t as though I wasn’t trying.
 
I was taking the deepest, slowest breaths I could, but the cold sweat that broken out on my forehead has also spread to my palms.
 
Robert helped me to sit back down, while Graham grabbed my crutches.
 
Both seemed too intent on making sure I didn’t pass out to care about the other’s presence at the moment, which suited me just fine.
 

I…needed something.
 
I couldn’t figure out what it was, but it was close.
 
It was something that was so close, I could taste it.
 
A warm hand still holding my elbow squeezed it gently, no iron grip needed to keep me from leaving anymore.
 
He had said that I had Stacy and Graham on my side.

I looked at Graham and through the snowstorm of my vision, saw the concern on his face—and surprisingly, the hurt—and knew that Robert had been right.
 
I thought back to Stacy’s face this morning, and how she had helped me so much this past week, and knew that he was right about that, too.
 
But was that it?

“What about you?
 
Do I have you on my side, too?” I asked, my voice shaky, my eyes still unable to focus well.

“Never doubt it for a second.”

And that was it.
 
I had three people in my corner.
 
Three more than I ever imagined I’d ever have.

Actually, you have one more.

I looked at Robert, confused.
 
He pointed towards the back of the auditorium, where a bunch of girls were gathered, laughing and pointing at a group of guys sitting a few rows down.
 
I didn’t have to look for long before I saw who he was pointing at.
 
She was the only one not laughing, though her face was just as beautiful, just as perfect, and her eyes were just as sightless though I knew now how deceiving that blindness truly was.

“What is she doing here?”
 
I kept staring at her, waiting for some sign of friendliness, anything.

“She goes to school here, too, Gee.
 
She’s a sophomore.”

I snorted.
 
A sophomore?
 
She’s over five hundred years old; the least she could have been was a junior!

I turned to look at her again and knew she had heard me.
 
Of course she had heard me.
 
She knew what I was going to say before it even came out of my mouth.

Hate me?
 
I looked at her.

She shook her head.
 
Why would I hate you?
 
I said the exact same thing.
 
If I’m incapable of appreciating irony after five hundred years, I don’t deserve this inhuman existence.
 

I breathed a sigh of relief.
 
It felt good.
 
It felt really, really good actually, knowing that I had all of them supporting me, even if Graham was the only one who didn’t know what exactly was going on.
 
It was enough.

Steady and sure, I stood up again, accepting my crutches from Graham, and my folder from Robert.
 
I ignored the stares as I stepped-pulled-swung myself towards Erica.
 
I ignored the whispers.
 
I ignored everything except my destination.

She saw me approaching, her face full of amusement, and I decided to smile back.
 
All the humor left her face at my unexpected reaction and that smug smile I had refused to place on my face this morning came back with a vengeance.
 
“Here’s your soliloquy.”
 
I handed her the blue folder, pleased that I had taken the route I did with it.
 

She looked at it as though it would infect her with something, but didn’t open it.
 
She bent down to reach into her large tote bag and pulled out a manila folder that contained a few sheets of loose paper.
 
“Here is yours.
 
Remember, no peeking until we’re called up.”

I felt my smug smile dip a bit, but pulled the corners of my mouth back up before she could notice anything.
 
I was going to get through this, one way or another, no matter what she had written for me to say.
 
“You, too.”

I remained standing there while she walked away, the blue folder in her hand appearing to weigh her down.
 
When Mr. Danielson announced that we were ready to begin, I found myself being ushered back into my seat by several sets of hands.
 
I looked up to see both Robert and Chips, sans Dip and Salsa, standing by me.
 
I made the assumption that they had been partnered together, and together, had worked to get me away from Erica as quickly as possible once our folders were exchanged.

The first pair up on stage happened to be Dip and Salsa, which explained their absence, and each took humorous jabs at their nicknames
—
Dip announcing that he was lactose intolerant to himself, and Salsa saying that no one really likes a chunky dunk
—
as well as making light of their prowess with the ladies, which neither had.
 
It was easy to see why the trio truly got along so well and I couldn’t help but feel a bit envious of them for it.

Three more pairs went up before Robert and Chips had their turn.
 
Robert lamented at how handsome he was, and how he’d fallen in love with himself, but still could do nothing but envy the utter awesomeness of a guy named Chips.
 

The giggles from the audience pleased Chips, whose grin would have been bright enough to forgo the use of the spotlight that seemed to be singeing his clothing right before our eyes.
 
When it was his turn to speak, he spoke about his obsession with food, and how he had named everything he didn’t want to eat “Robert” so that he’d have an incentive not to eat his new best friend in the whole wide world, his “BFFL”.

That drew a series of loud guffaws from the two dips, as well as some pretty amused laughter from an unlikely, yet familiar source who less than an hour ago had been upset over his mere presence.
 
And then, it was my turn.

Erica glided up to the stage effortlessly.
 
I took notice of her skintight, dark denim jeans and black boots, her olive green off the shoulder, low cut top with white camisole underneath, and admitted to myself that even dressed as casually as she was, she still outshined me in Janice’s best.
 
With Robert and Chips’ help, I hopped onto the stage and nodded my readiness to Mr. Danielson, whose face looked as excited as a kid on Christmas.

This was what he had been waiting for.
 
As I looked around the auditorium, the faces that I could make out despite the bright, blinding spotlight all held the same curiosity and excitement.
 
They had all come to see a show.
 
A show that Erica apparently promised them would be worth it.
 
God help us if it wasn’t.
 
God help me if it was.

Because her last name alphabetically came before mine, she was given the opportunity to go first and get hers out of the way.
 
She declined, deferring to me, and I could have sworn I saw purple stripes and a tail pop out from her face, her smile was so Cheshire cat-like.

I hobbled my way to the microphone standing dead center in the middle of the stage.
 
There was a black music stand there to place our scripts on, which I did.
 
I removed the crutches from underneath my arms, and bent down and placed them onto the stage floor.
 
I didn’t need them for this.

I opened up the manila folder and removed the three sheets of paper that contained my soliloquy.
 
I closed my eyes.
 

You can do this.
 

I licked my lips that had gone painfully dry.
 

I’m here for you, Gee.

I counted to ten, then opened my lids and began reading the lines on the first page.

“I hate to look at myself in the mirror.
 
Who am I to anyone but a stranger, even me?
 
The three people in this world that know me don’t even know the real me, and all that they do know just plain bores them to death.
 
It would be different if I were attractive, or smart, or funny.
 
Since I’m none of those, I simply exist in a world where I don’t fit in.

“I look different from all of the other girls, and if
I
notice it, then of course they do, too.
 
And if the girls are noticing how different I am, of course the boys are.
 
I cannot even get my own best friend to take me out, and he’s used to the way I look.

“But even my looks are something that people can get past.
 
It’s not like I’m the ugliest girl in the school.
 
I guess I could be passable if I tried hard enough.
 
Plus there’s always plastic surgery to fix the things makeup can’t.