The Comeback (10 page)

T
he dinner with my former boyfriend and my archrival was a success. The rumor mill had done its job and spread the word of our amicable outing at Wicked Jack's.

I had convinced everyone that Connor and I were buddies again. And there was a bonus, because after watching him fawn all over Angie, I realized that I no longer had any feelings for him. But I did feel something for Dev.

As soon as I was done with my classes, I was going to go tell Dev how I felt about him.

But first, my best friend.

“Can I talk to you?” I waited at Monet's locker again, just like I had for the past week, but she clearly wouldn't even look at me. She slammed her locker shut and walked off.

I trailed after her, determined to apologize fully, even though she clearly didn't want to hear it.

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you what happened between Dev and me,” I continued.

Olivia Kaplan made a beeline for us, elbowing a couple of people out of her way to get to the scoop. I wasn't going to let her stop me. If she wanted to tell everyone what I said to Monet, let her. It was more important that I salvage my friendship.

Monet increased her pace, but I persisted. “I didn't tell you because I knew you would be mad. I didn't plan it, I swear. And I definitely didn't do it just to become popular again, no matter what your brother thinks or what rumors are floating around.”

She stopped. “Why should I believe you?”

“Have I ever lied to you before?”

She shook her head.

“Monet, honestly, I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

She gave me a level stare. “Are you telling me that you're not attracted to my brother?”

It was a test, I knew. I had to decide which was more important, my pride or my best friend. It was an easy decision.

“I am attracted to Dev,” I admitted.

“I knew it!”

“But I didn't realize it, not until he kissed me.”

Olivia soaked up every word. Monet turned to her. “Don't you have something better to do?”

“Not really,” she replied.

“Really?” Monet said. She smirked at her. “Because I hear you have some
one
better to do. So you'd better scamper unless you want the whole school to hear, too.”

Olivia took off like a bolt of lightning.

I looked at Monet in awe. “What was that all about?”

“Let's just say that Olivia just confirmed a suspicion and leave it at that,” she answered. “Now, about my brother—”

“It's over. I promise.”

For the rest of the day, I was so happy to be friends with Monet again, I smiled at everyone I met. And they smiled back.

“You're awfully chipper,” Monet commented.

“I know,” I said.

We exchanged grins.

“Hey, Hannah, I love that top.” I beamed at her. “Quincy, nice article in the paper.”

I ignored the “What's up with her?” and the “Is she running for Homecoming queen or something?” and even the bewildered “But she never talks to me.”

At lunch, we were back at our usual table, only now, Scott and Ava and a couple of Ava's friends joined us.

“Whew,” Ava said. “I'm glad you two finally made up.”

“Me, too,” I said. “Although it was nice hanging out with you. I'm afraid now you're stuck with me. With us, really, because Monet and I are a team.”

Monet reached over and squeezed my hand hard, which meant that I was truly forgiven, but also meant “Don't you dare start any of your crap.”

“While you two were fighting,” Ava confided to Monet, “the girl was so miserable, I could barely stand to be around her.”

We all laughed, but it was true. I'd learned my lesson, and if it meant I had to give up Dev to keep Monet's friendship, then I'd do it.

“So what's the current status of the Dev and Sophie saga?” Ava said.

I shot a quick glance at Monet. Her face was expressionless.

“Uh, maybe we should talk about something else?”

“It's okay,” Monet said. “But, everyone, please remember, he is my brother, so please, no gory details.”

“There aren't any gory details,” I protested.

Monet raised an eyebrow.

“Sophie's blushing!” Ava crowed.

“Cut it out, you guys,” I said. “Dev's not even talking to me right now. And besides, I promised Monet nothing else will happen.”

She smiled at me. “Actually, I hereby give you permission to date Dev. With the caveat that you don't become one of those annoying couples who are all starry-eyed all the time.”

“You mean, like you and Scott?” I said.

Now it was her turn to blush.

The lunch bell rang.

“Saved by the bell,” Ava said.

I linked arms with her and Monet. “Did I ever tell you that
Saved by the Bell
was Monet's favorite television show when we were little?”

“It was not,” Monet said. She squirmed when we giggled.

“It was, too,” I said. “You had the maddest crush on Screech.”

Ava erupted into laughter. “That explains so much,” she said.

“How did the ex dinner go?” Monet asked.

“You're not going to believe it,” I said.

“Try me.”

“Angie wanted to bury the hatchet.”

“My brother seems to be under the impression that you and Connor are back together.”

“Why would he think that?” I said, then remembered the scene in the hallway. I stopped walking. “Oh, no.”

I explained to her what happened. “What am I going to do?”

“Tell him the truth.”

“But I don't even know if he likes me,” I replied.

“He'll be getting in a couple of laps at the school pool before rehearsal,” she said. “Go find him then.”

So after my last class, I went in search of Dev. I was glad that I had talked to Connor. I didn't need him in order to be happy. In fact, to tell the truth, I'd been much happier without him. Only my pride had been hurt, not my heart.

At first, I thought the pool was deserted. There wasn't anyone in the water. Then I noticed Dev, sitting at the edge at the far end. But he wasn't alone. He was with Angie, talking and laughing.

I swallowed back the anger and turned on my heels and went home. It was all her fault, I told myself over and over on the drive home. She'd stolen Connor, and now she was trying to take Dev, too. It was the last straw. The war was back on.

I
couldn't get the image of the two of them out of my mind. It seared my brain as I threw my backpack down in our hallway and stomped to the kitchen. It was about a hundred times more painful than when Connor dumped me.

I stood in front of the cupboard and surveyed my mother's spices.

I'd read something about a beauty contest being sabotaged when someone put chili powder or something in the contestant's clothing. It had made her itch and sneeze, and I was hoping to find something to do the same to Angie.

“Honey, are you home?” Mom hollered from the front door. “I need help with the groceries.”

“Coming, Mom,” I yelled back, but I didn't move.

I hesitated, hand in the air, but then the image of Dev smiling at Angie flashed into my mind, and
I grabbed the cayenne pepper and put it in my backpack.

I told myself that it didn't have anything to do with the fact that I'd seen her flirting with Dev. It was about the play.

Still, as I helped Mom with the groceries, the hurt feeling wouldn't go away. It was much worse than when Connor had betrayed me. I didn't think Dev would be fooled by a pair of pouty lips and fake eyelashes, but apparently, he was as weak as all the rest.

I was going to put my plan into motion at school the next day. I cut my last class and snuck into the costume closet. The lighting was dim in there and the room felt unbearably stuffy.

Angie's outfit was hanging right in front. It was almost too easy. I started to sweat but managed to turn her costume inside out. I whipped out the spice jar and sprinkled the powder all over her gown.

The dismissal bell rang and I threw the jar into my backpack and slipped out before classes emptied out into the hall.

A few minutes later, I strolled into rehearsal. Monet and Fanelli were the only ones in the room.

“What's with you?” Monet said. “You're never here on time.”

“I cut class,” I said, without thinking. Mr. Fanelli gave me a dirty look and I added quickly, “I wanted to go somewhere quiet and prepare.”

His frown faded, but he still had to give me a lecture. “Sophie, I don't approve of skipping classes.”

“I won't do it again,” I promised rashly.

My answer seemed to satisfy him, because he only grunted and went back to his clipboard.

Monet said, “We have a couple of minutes before we start. Want to get a soda?”

Perfect. An alibi.

We headed to the vending machine outside.

“I'm really proud of you, you know,” she said.

“Why is that?”

“Because you kept your promise,” she said.

“What promise?”

She gave me a friendly sock on the arm. “Quit kidding around.”

I had a feeling I was heading for trouble, so for once I decided to think before I spoke. “Oh, that.”

While she continued to talk, I frantically tried to recall what she could be talking about. The promise not to regain my social status by any means necessary—like costume sabotage?

I started to sweat. If she found out what I'd done, she'd never forgive me, as a stage manager or a friend.

“We should get back to rehearsal,” I reminded her.

We hurried back into the auditorium, where most of the cast were gathered.

Monet said, “C'mon, people, time to get into costume and makeup.”

The drama classroom had been converted. The desks were gone and several rows of temporary makeup chairs had been set up in their places.

One of Monet's lackeys wheeled a clothing rack filled with our costumes into the room. I changed into my dress and threw a robe over it to protect the fabric when I was in hair and makeup. My costume was the typical ingenue white, pretty but boring.

Mrs. Swenson, who volunteered for every production even after her daughter had graduated, waved me over. I liked her the best of all the volunteer moms and gladly went into her chair.

“Sophie, how are you? You'll dazzle us tonight, I'm sure.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Swenson. I hope so,” I replied. “How is Shelli?”

We chatted about her daughter's college experience while Mrs. Swenson braided my hair and twisted it into a bun in the back of my head. Then she applied thick greasepaint to my face and finished the rest of my makeup.

Finally, I was ready. I thanked her and hopped out of the chair, giving up my place to Vanessa, who was playing a minor role as a widow.

Fanelli hollered, “Places, everyone!” The words
gave me that familiar thrill. I'd been so focused on climbing back to the top that I'd forgotten how to enjoy the acting process.

Angie sneezed once backstage. A little flurry of spice rose from her dress. I looked around, but no one else noticed. I thought everything was going according to plan.

It was my chance. I'd have the role I'd always wanted, the role of tempestuous Katharina, the role I thought I was meant to play.

“Do you smell cayenne pepper?” she said.

Mr. Fanelli didn't even yell at her for breaking character. “Angie, are you feeling okay?”

A little panicky feeling fluttered in my chest. She didn't look well. Her eyes were all red and her face was starting to swell.

“Cayenne?” Connor said, his voice rising. “You're allergic to cayenne pepper.”

“I know,” she said, her speech thickening.

She was having an allergic reaction.

“Does anyone have any Benadryl?” Monet asked.

“Get her some water,” Fanelli shouted.

“I think I have some Benadryl in my purse,” I said. There was a sick feeling in my stomach. I didn't like Angie, but I didn't wish her any real harm.

I ran backstage and grabbed my backpack. I rummaged through it until I found the over-the-counter medicine I was looking for and returned to the stage.
Angie chugged a huge bottle of water, sitting on a chair surrounded by the cast and crew. I was relieved to see that the swelling in her face was already receding.

“Here you go,” I said. I handed it to Connor, and that's when I noticed the reddish-brown powder all over my hand. I looked down. There was a trail of pepper running down the skirt of my white dress. I tried to hide my hand, but it was too late.

“What's that all over your skirt?” Monet said.

Everyone was staring at me.

“It's cayenne pepper,” Dev said. The disappointment in his voice nearly made me cry.

“It's not,” I said. “It's…from lunch.”

I tried to hand Connor the Benadryl, but he refused it. “Like I'd take anything from you,” he said. “It's already taken care of. She had an EpiPen in her bag.”

Monet grabbed my backpack and shook out the contents.

“Hey!” I said, but it was too late.

She dug into it until she found something. “Aha,” she said. She held up a small container. “
This
is cayenne papper.”

There were general expressions of disgust from the crowd, but I ignored them. I only cared about Monet at that point. “It was just a p-prank.”

Monet gave a snort of disbelief.

“I didn't know she was allergic,” I said pleadingly, but Monet was stone-faced.

“Don't ever talk to me again,” she said.

Fanelli, for once, hadn't commented until then. “Monet, take over the dress rehearsal. Vanessa will stand in as Bianca. Sophie, in my office. Now.”

I
didn't even try the drama queen act.

Fanelli yelled at me for about twenty minutes and I sat there, taking it, without saying a word. He was right, after all.

“I honestly didn't know she was allergic,” I finally said, when he ran out of steam. “I just wanted the role of Katharina so badly, I didn't think.”

He sighed. “I can't tell you how disappointed I am. You're lucky she wasn't seriously hurt.”

“I would never deliberately try to hurt her,” I said. “I just wanted to make her sneeze so much that she'd blow the dress rehearsal and you'd give me that role.”

“That was never going to happen,” he said.

“I know that now,” I said. “And I'm truly sorry.”

It was a miracle, but Fanelli took pity on me. I would still be allowed to play Bianca, but I was banned from participating in the spring musical, and I had to
help with cleanup for every drama event in the near future. I got off lightly.

I went home before the dress rehearsal was over. I left my costume hanging on the empty rack. I'd managed to brush most of the pepper from it.

Mom was home and I threw myself down on the couch, crying, as I told her everything.

“Oh, honey,” she said. “It's just high school. You make mistakes and you move on.”

“Everyone sees me the way they want to see me,” I said. “Monet wants to see me as this nice girl, Connor wanted to see me as someone to rescue, and Dev doesn't want to see me at all.”

“You
are
a nice girl,” my mom said.

“But that's not all I am. And I'm not just a drama queen, either. Why does she expect me to always be nice? Or why do other people expect me to be mean? Why can't I be some of those things some of the time?”

“You can be,” she said. “But no matter what you do, try to be a better you.”

It sounded like a public relations slogan, but it wasn't bad advice.

“I can try,” I said. I gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mom. I'm heading to bed.”

I wanted to stay there, preferably until I was thirty, but I had to get up and face the hostility. I didn't dare check my DramaDivas page to see what people were
saying about me. Still, I wasn't prepared for the viciousness of the rumors when I went to school the next day. It was Friday, and that night was opening night.

“I heard she tried to kill Angie Vogel,” someone said as I stood in the lunch line at the caf. There was no sign of Monet or Dev, but I knew they wouldn't talk to me even if they'd been in the cafeteria.

I couldn't face it. I grabbed an apple and some juice and decided to hole up in the library and run my lines. I couldn't blow that, too.

Finally, it was an hour before curtain time, which meant the usual complete chaos. Monet was in a state of high anxiety, and I didn't even dare look at Dev. I didn't want to push my luck. Besides, everyone was still avoiding me.

“I can't find my costume,” Angie shrieked.

Monet threw a poisonous look my way and I gave her a tiny shake of my head. I'd learned my lesson.

“Oh, my God. I'm going to throw up,” Angie shrieked. She sounded mere minutes from unraveling. A little part of me reveled in her breakdown.

But I didn't want it anymore, at least not like that. Even if it did mean she was distracted from being mad at me.

“You'll be fine,” I said. “Take deep breaths. Everyone is nervous opening night.”

Monet gave me a tiny smile when she thought I wasn't looking.

“Just pretend everyone in the audience is naked,” I suggested.

Angie let out a wail. “My parents will be in the audience!”

“Then no,” I said. “Pretend that there's no one there.”

“Is that what you do to forget about all those people?” Angie asked. “You seem so calm.”

I was calm as long as I ignored the time bomb lodged in my stomach. I didn't tell her my preshow ritual of biting my nails down to the quick. I'd already booked a manicure as soon as the show ended.

“Just look into—into Connor's eyes,” I said. I was proud that I only stumbled over the words the tiniest bit. “Forget about everyone else. Just focus on how much he cares about you.”

I saw a couple of the kids whispering and snickering, and I squared my chin. Let them talk. They were wrong about me, whatever they were saying.

“Thanks, Sophie,” Angie said. “That's good advice.”

“Two minutes to curtain,” Monet said. And I felt my stomach drop to my knees. I tried to remember my own advice and forget about everything, but a lot was riding on this.

If I screwed up and ruined the opening night performance, Monet would never believe I hadn't done it deliberately. But chances were good that opening night would go smoothly. Dress rehearsal certainly hadn't, and it was a stage tradition that if you had a bad dress rehearsal, it meant a great opening night.

The curtain went up and we took our places. I could barely hear my cue over the hammering of my heart.

It all started going downhill during the first scene, when Angie stumbled over her opening line. “I—” (long pause) “I pray…” Her face went white.

“You, sir,”
I gave her a prompt without moving my lips.

“You, sir, is it your will to make a stale of me amongst these mates?” she continued.

I released a breath I didn't even know I'd been holding and got ready for my cue. I let myself be transported to another time and place, into another person, a person who was as pliable as a willow tree.

Then it was time for my exit. Angie was supposed to exit a few lines later and I held my breath, but she remembered her lines and exited when she was supposed to.

She rushed up to me. “Oh, my God. I can't believe you did that!”

Monet's head whipped around. “What did she do now?” she said in a weary tone.

“She saved my ass,” Angie said. “I went blank and she fed me the line.”

I noticed that Dev was eavesdropping on the whole conversation, but when I glanced at him, he looked away. My scene had been going surprisingly well, but the big kiss was yet to come.

“Really?” Monet said.

“Don't sound so surprised,” I said.

Monet opened her mouth, but then Guy Squires rushed up. “There's a problem with the sound board,” he said, and she took off to deal with the minor emergency.

Angie stumbled a couple more times. “I don't know what's wrong with me,” she said during intermission.

A couple of things sprang to mind, but I bit my tongue. Till I drew blood. At this rate, the turning-over-a-new-leaf thing was going to be even more painful than I had anticipated.

“Relax,” I said. “You're doing fine.”

But she really blew it during the wedding scene. Connor said something and then her face went white. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out.

She looked at him pleadingly, but Connor could barely remember his own lines. He couldn't come to the rescue this time.

He just stood there waiting. Finally, he repeated her cue again.

My mind went blank, too, for a second and then the words came back to me. I bent down and pretended to adjust the train of Angie's gown and whispered the words to her.

Her face relaxed and she projected loud and clear.

The curtain finally went down and we took our bows. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was over for the night.

“What was all that about?” Dev said.

“Oh, so you're talking to me now?” I replied.

“What was going on?”

“None of your business.” When we kissed during the wedding scene, he had given me a kiss that had thrilled me to my toes, and I thought he might have forgiven me, but I guess I was wrong. He had just been acting.

How could he have missed that Angie had frozen?

“Sophie, why can't you just leave her alone?”

“Why can't you?” I said, before stomping off. I took a certain amount of glee in the surprise I saw on his face. I was reforming, but there was no way I was going to let Dev Lucero boss me around.

I only had two more performances to get through. Saturday afternoon, we were already in costume when Monet came up to me.

“That was nice of you, what you did for Angie last night.”

“It was the least I could do after I tried to kill her,” I said. It was a weak attempt at a joke, but Monet didn't laugh and I couldn't blame her.

“Do you want to hang out at the cast party?” she said after an awkward pause.

I met her eyes. “I'm trying to change,” I said. “But I can't guarantee that I'll always be a perfect angel.”

She suppressed a snort. “Of that I have no doubt.” And that's when I knew I was forgiven.

I gave her a hug and noticed Dev watching us. All I saw in his eyes was contempt, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try to tell him how I felt.

Before I had time to talk to him and pour out my heart, however, we were called into hair and makeup. I'd corner him at the cast party, I decided.

Vanessa's mom used to be a professional makeup artist and had volunteered to help do makeup for the play. I changed into a robe and then took my place in front of one of the lighted mirrors that had been temporarily added to the girls' locker room.

While Mrs. Leon applied the thick stage paint to my face, I sat in the chair and mentally ran my lines one more time.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door and Haley, who wasn't changing into costume or at the makeup table, answered it. She came back with a bouquet of flowers.

“They're for you,” she said, handing me an enormous spray of orchids.

“Who would send me flowers?” I said.

“Probably your mom,” Haley said.

I gave her a dirty look, but she smiled sweetly.

“There's a card,” she added helpfully.

I opened the envelope. The card said “Break a leg. Dev.”

I wondered if he meant that literally.