Understudy (12 page)

“Don’t be such a smart−ass.”

He winked. “Well, you get my point.”

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe he’s the one who needs to be nice? And I’m not just talking about me, I mean, anyone he comes in contact with,” I said.

“He’s just misunderstood.”

“So is the rest of the population,” I said gesturing with my hands to emphasize my point.

Adam turned to look at me with pleading eyes. “Just try. Please? Would you do that for me?”

Darn those green eyes! I would’ve done anything. I would’ve died with him, or even died for him. And since I could do neither of those any more, I guessed this was the closest thing I had to a sacrifice.

“Yeah, I’ll try."

Chapter Thirteen

Days went by in a blur. The play rehearsals had finally pushed through and people were starting to learn their lines.

Everything was running smoothly on stage and I wished I could say the same for us in the production design department, but working with Tina and  Diana wasn't as easy as I thought.

Sure they were creative, and as much as I liked their vision of grandeur and extravagance, I had to remind them that we were staging a school play, not a Broadway production, and that we had to make do with what was available which, sadly, wasn't much. Needless to say, we spent more time arguing about design ideas than actually executing them. In the end, we were forced to spend our free time making up for it, which meant that I had less time to spend in the woods. I didn't like it one bit.

"You don't have to be here if you got a lot of things to do. We can always meet up sometime," Adam had said one day as I showed up an hour late.

I told him I wasn't really that busy, which was obviously a lie. I couldn't tell him the truth, that I was scared that if I didn't show up even just one day, I might end up not seeing him at all. I knew it sounded stupid, but I wouldn't risk it. I couldn't lose him again.

"Are you alright? You look terrible," Sara said as she plopped down in an empty seat beside me. As usual, she looked gorgeous even with her hair tied up in a messy ponytail. I envied her.

"Gee, thanks. I hadn't noticed," I said.

"You got bags under your eyes!"

"More like sacks actually."

She leaned forward to take a closer look and I immediately turned the other way, just in time to see Eric entering the room. He was  earlier than his usual last minute grand entrance.

Our eyes met for a second, and I immediately thought of Adam asking me to try being nice to his twin brother. Something I wasn't having much success with. I mean, how could I be nice to him? Should I say "hi," and wave at him as if we were good friends?

I shifted my gaze back to Sara who was now talking about different eye care products that would help soothe my tired eyes. I smiled and nodded, pretending to be interested, all the while feeling Eric's eyes trained on me as he walked towards his seat.

"I mean, the cucumber does nothing," Sara was saying as she turned her body slightly to block Eric out of our conversation, though I highly doubted that he was even listening.

"It does actually."

Or maybe he was.

"Contrary to popular belief, cucumber does help in soothing the eyes, though it may be not as effective as lab based creams. But still, it's preferable to use natural products over chemicals, right?" Eric said.

"We're not asking for your opinion," Sara said, her eyebrows inching together, making a crease between them.

"Then be glad that I gave it to you free of charge," Eric said, resting his chin on his palm, a smug smile spreading across his face. "And you're welcome by the way."

Sara looked at me, and rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable," she said through gritted teeth as she stood up and walked over to her assigned seat.

Eric tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, the smile never leaving his face. "What? I was just trying to help."

I felt the urge to snap at him as blood rushed to my face. But as I looked into his eyes, Adam's words played in my head like a warning.

Would you promise to be nice to my brother?

I swallowed back my irritation and looked away, aware that I wasn't exactly being nice by ignoring him. Why couldn't he just act like a normal person? Why did he have to be such an ass? Adam wasn't like that. They were twins. They shared the same DNA. Why couldn't he be like Adam? But then, the answer to that question was there all along. Because he's not Adam, and he never would be.

***

As much as I loved anything art related, I hated making backdrops. I could sense that Tina felt the same based on her frown as we sat side by side on the floor painting what's supposed to be the town's backdrop for some outdoor scenes.

It was boring, and the only source of entertainment we got was the rehearsal itself.

Nigel Armstrong couldn't act. Mr. Blake's patience was put to the test as Nigel, a.k.a The Ghost of Christmas Past, stuttered his lines with Waylon Nettly, a.k.a Ebenezer Scrooge.

Nigel couldn't deliver most of his dialogue without stuttering, and if he did, he'd end up forgetting his lines.

"You think Mr. Blake will have to replace him?" Sara asked as she settled down on the floor beside me.

"Nah, I doubt it. Mr. Blake wouldn't acknowledge his failure even if it slapped him hard across his face."

"Yeah, right. So what's this thing?" Sara asked, gesturing to the giant cardboard with her chin. "Abstract art?"

Tina glared at her.

"I think I want to trade roles with you," Sara said before I could answer her question.

"Whatever happened to your love of drama?"

Sara puffed up her cheeks and sighed. "I can't handle being Drake's wife."

"Are you considering divorce then?"

"That's an option."

"On what grounds?"

"Irreconcilable differences of course," she said matter−of−factly

We both laughed at this and even Tina couldn't help but crack a smile.

Suddenly I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see a flustered Diana standing behind me, a crumpled sheet of paper in hand.

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

"What?" I asked, trying to sound serious, but I couldn't stop smiling at Sara's joke.

Diana blinked at me as if the answer was pretty obvious. “Eric is being difficult about his costume," she said. "I couldn't get him to cooperate."

I finally stopped smiling. "What did he do?"

"He wouldn't let me take his measurements for the leg brace. He said it wasn't necessary."

Tina dropped her brush on the floor, splattering tiny bits of paint on our shoes. "What? But he's Tiny Tim!"

"Why am I not surprised?" Sara interjected, looking utterly bored. "It would be weirder if he started cooperating."

"Should we tell Mr. Blake?" Diana asked, glancing from Sara to Tina and back to me.

I looked around the room for Eric. He wasn't hard to find considering he always stayed in the same spot during rehearsal time. Right beside the door.

My gaze drifted to Mr. Blake as I considered Diana's question, but seeing how his lips were pressed tight in a thin line as Nigel stuttered his lines, I didn't think it was a good idea.

"I'll talk to him," I said, handing my paint brush to Diana as I scrambled onto my feet.

Eric was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. As usual, he wore black from head to toe. His head snapped in my direction as I made my way to him.

"Do we have a problem?" I asked, stopping a few feet away.

His eyes narrowed for a second, then he blinked. "None I can think of, why?"

He had an air of nonchalance that irritated me. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Diana says you won't cooperate with the costume fitting."

"Oh, that." He scratched his forehead and frowned. "I really don't think that's a problem."

"We're staging a play here and we need costumes."

"I am well aware of that."

"We need to take measurements for your leg brace."

"I can do it myself."

"What?"

"I can do it myself," he repeated with a shrug.

I stared at him. "You're kidding, right?" My voice came out louder than I intended, and people started glancing our way.

"No," Eric said. "I can also provide for the crutch if that would help make things easier."

"I am in charge of everything props related, and I want to make sure that everything goes well."

"I know. I understand," he said quietly. "Look, this actually favors you seeing you're busy with a lot of things."

I clenched my teeth together, reminding myself that people were watching. "I don't need your help. I didn't ask for it. Don't make this hard for me."

"I'm not making things hard for you. I just said that I'm doing you a favor. Seriously, Kat, what is wrong with you?"

The room became quiet, all eyes shifting in our direction, waiting for me to respond. It was like walking on the street the first few weeks after the accident when people scrutinized my every move, waiting for me to break down. I knew I was allowed to do just that, but I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of proving them right.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my mind was blank. I was angry, but I wasn't sure why. In the end, I asked myself the same question.
What is wrong with me?

I spun around on my heels, turning my back at him just in time to see Sara walking up to us, her eyes fixed on Eric.

"Let it go," I said, grabbing her arm to stop her.

Sara opened her mouth to protest but I shook my head and she stopped. Not without glaring at him of course. Then she looked at me with concern in her eyes. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, I just need some air." I headed to the door, slamming it behind me.

I’d overreacted and I was clearly aware of it. But I couldn't help myself. I couldn't stand being with Eric, seeing him perfectly fine.

I wanted to see him hurt. To see him wrecked about his brother's death. To see him suffer. To see him blame himself.

I reached the parking lot without realizing it and I contemplated about going back to the gym. My pride wouldn't allow me though. I had made a fool out of myself by showing people that I couldn't handle Eric. I couldn't even answer a simple question.

What is wrong with me?

I stared up the gray sky, taking a deep breath as I attempted to calm myself. It started drizzling.

I was suddenly reminded of running across the parking lot while holding Adam's hand. And I need that hand now.

I started running.

***

"Kat?"

Adam was sitting on a rock when I reached our secret place. He immediately stood up when he saw me.

"I can't stand your brother!" I said in between breaths. I was still angry, though the running had helped calm me down a bit.

"What happened?" He wrapped his arms around my body and I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his perpetual fresh bread scent.

"You told me to be nice to him but I just can't," I said, my words slightly muffled by his shirt.

"What did he do this time?"

I told him everything that happened, knowing that I looked pathetic walking off without even defending myself. He didn't say anything though. He just sat in silence, waiting for me to finish, his thumb stroking my wrist.

Once I finished, I raised my head to look at him. His expression thoughtful.

"Just let him do what he wants. If he wants to make his own props, then let him," he said.

"What?"

"Well, he was right about making things easier for you. You've been busy lately."

"B−but..." I pulled away to take a better look at him. I felt betrayed. "Why are you taking his side?"

"I'm not. It's just that−" he paused, searching for the right words. "Just trust him on this. He won't screw this one up, I'm sure of it."

"You’re  sure?! Adam, I'm taking this play seriously and−"

"Wait!" He pushed me away, his eyes looking over at something behind my shoulder. "Someone's here."

I immediately turned around, just in time to see a figure coming towards us. I couldn't see  who it was because of the trees and the bushes in the way. My body went cold.

"What should we do?" I whispered, my voice cracking as I spoke. I was panicking.

What if someone saw Adam? Would that person recognize him? Would Adam disappear?

But before Adam could answer, I was able to see who the intruder was.

It was Eric.

Chapter Fourteen

Eric was panting as he emerged from the bushes, his forehead glistening with sweat. It would have taken him less than five minutes if he ran all the way from school. Assuming that he followed me right away. He took more than that.

We stared at each other for a long time, long enough for my heart to revert back to its normal rhythm as I realized that he couldn't see Adam behind me. Relief washed through me, but my anger for him had resurfaced, albeit not as intense as before.

"You followed me?" I asked, though it wasn't much of a question.

Eric shrugged. "Obviously."

"Why?"

His lips curled up. "Because I can."

The familiar smile made my heart skip. He looked like Adam, except for his hair which fell just above his eyes.

"How long have you been watching me?" I asked, unable to mask the irritation in my voice.

"Long enough to realize that you have a habit of talking to yourself."

I stole a quick glance at Adam over my shoulder. He shook his head. "I'm sorry," he mouthed.

"So, you like being in the woods?" Eric asked, walking towards me. He moved quietly despite the dry leaves and brittle twigs scattered all over the ground. It reminded me of a panther stalking its prey. I felt trapped.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself," he said when I didn't answer. "It's dangerous, you might bump into some wild bear or something."

"There are no wild bears here," I said, annoyed. "Besides, it's none of your business anyway. It's not as if you'd care if you discovered my mangled corpse or something."