Understudy (21 page)

I wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he didn't say goodbye or the fact that he disappeared the moment I needed him the most.

But one thing was certain. He disappeared because of me, just like how he died because of me. Everything was fine until tonight. When I decided to listen to Eric and let go.

I finally understood why I was scared to tell Sara about him. I was scared to hear the truth from my own lips. Because even before this night happened, I was starting to let go, slowly loosening my grip. And by the time I realized what I was doing, it was too late. I slipped.

I had fallen for Eric.

Chapter Twenty−Six

Eric

I sat at the top-most step of the staircase surveying the room like an emperor observing his subjects. People came in groups, starting out shy and reserved at first. I wasn't sure if it was because of the haunted rumors or they weren't sure if I was serious about the party.

In less than fifteen minutes, our upscale minimalist living room, as my dad fondly called it, was transformed into a New York inspired bar complete with laser lights and DJ's pumping out remix after remix that almost made me want to join the crowd dancing downstairs.

Drinks also came out in endless supply, resulting in bottles and empty Dixie cups lying around abandoned on Mom's Persian rugs. I made a mental note to pay the cleaners extra to make sure that everything looked exactly as it was before the party. The last thing I needed was for my parents to get home to a house resembling a frat house.

But there was a small part of me that wanted to do just that. To see the anger in my dad's eyes as I shrug and tell him that I don't care. That I had stopped caring about everything when they started pretending that they understood what it felt like to lose something that made you whole. No amount of therapy and out-of-the-country vacations could fix me, not even Adam's empathy. And even that was gone. I always thought that I had nothing more to lose. I was dead wrong. You could lose someone with something as simple as a phone call, or something as simple as a kiss.

I closed my eyes and brought myself back to that moment, remembering how she looked at me with those big brown eyes that made you want to wrap your arms around her because she looked like she was about to break. But she also exuded a kind of strength she seemed unaware of.

The kiss was just an ordinary kiss, but it felt extraordinary. It was like tasting honey for the first time. It was like being unshackled after years of captivity. I felt free, and though she didn't say it out loud, I know she felt the same.

"Hello, Tiny Tim."

I opened my eyes and squinted against the darkness as I tried to make out the image in front of me. It took me a moment to realize that I was staring at a girl's chest. I raised my head to see the face it belonged to. It was Amanda.

"You do know how to throw a great party." She was wearing a dark tank top and a short skirt. It was the exact opposite of the modest dress she wore on stage earlier. I remembered how pissed she was when Kat showed her that dress and I couldn't help but smile.

Amanda bit her lip and batted her eyelashes. I had to admit that she was pretty, and I could've let her play this game her way if I met her a year ago. But everything had changed. I wasn't sure who I was any more.

I stood up so I was now towering over her, and that seemed to please her more.

"You were great earlier," she said, lightly touching my arm. "Who knew you were such a great actor?"

It would've been easy to let my guard down. I had encountered a lot of Amandas in my life. Just give them what they want, a little lip action, a little flattery and maybe go all the way. It was easy. But I couldn't do it. Not when I couldn't get Kat out of my head.

I wanted her to be the one standing in front of me. I wanted to wipe her tears dry and make sure she never shed them again. I already missed hearing her voice, and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

But it wasn't Kat's smile I saw when I opened my eyes. It was Amanda, and she was pulling me forward, her lips slightly parted, and I could already taste them in my mind. I looked the other way.

I didn't notice Sara at first because of the poor lighting and the swirling neon laser beams, but as our eyes locked, my mouth suddenly felt dry.

"No, it's not what you think," I said. I wasn't sure if she heard me, but she dissolved into the crowd before I could get my shit together.

"Who the hell cares what she thinks?" Amanda asked.

"I do." I yanked her hand away and followed Sara down the hallway.

The number of people seemed to have doubled over the last five minutes and I had to squeeze myself into the crowd just to get to the other side. The scent of alcohol combined with sweat and pot smoke filled the air making me dizzy, and I thought I heard someone throwing up.

Sara was standing by the window with a phone pressed against her ear. Her eyes widened when she saw me and she put the phone down.

"Seriously? You go around flirting with other people just like that?"

"I wasn't−"

"After you kissed Kat?"

"You saw that?"

Sara rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Everybody saw that."

"And you saw that she ran away, right?"

"And that gives you an excuse to make out with other people?"

"Look, I wasn't..." I ran my hand across my face. I didn't want to talk to her about Kat out here. "Can we talk in private?"

"So you can make out with me too?"

Couldn't she just answer with a yes or a no? "Is that what you want?"

This caught her off guard. It took her a moment to respond. "Hell no!"

"Then shut the hell up and follow me."

I fished out a key from my pocket as we walked towards the door at the end of the hall. Sara couldn't hide her curiosity as I unlocked the door.

"I don't want people to come in here."

When she didn't answer, I pushed the door open and slid my hand against the wall for the light switch.

Sara stayed in the door frame, looking doubtful.

"Look, I'm not breaking in okay? This is Adam's room."

Sara visibly stiffened at the mention of Adam's name and I wondered if she was one of those who believed that the house was haunted.

"It's okay," I assured her. "I locked it so no one can go in and do stupid stuff like play Ouija boards or something."

This seemed to convince her as she finally took a step forward. But she stayed by the door. Her eyes wandered around the room, and I found myself doing the same.

No one had touched any of Adam's stuff, and if anyone entered his room and saw his clothes strewn all over the floor, and the open textbook resting on his bed, they would surely  think that he was still alive. That he'd come back any time and clean up his stuff. My parents were among those people, and though I didn't say it out loud, I was too.

Sara turned her attention to the dark object resting by the foot of Adam's bed.

"Is that...?"

"She was looking for it," I said, grabbing Kat's bag and handing it to her. "Thought I'd stop by her house to give it to her."

Sara held the bag over her chest. "That's not a good idea," she said. "Considering the circumstances."

She was right. I didn't think Kat would want to see me. But that couldn't stop me from trying, right? No one had ever stopped me from doing what I wanted before, except of course for that one thing.

"I like Kat," I said, the words tumbling out even before I thought about saying it out loud.

Sara blinked at me, unfazed. "I like her too, but I don't go around kissing her."

"No, of course not." I would've liked Sara as a person if it weren't for her mission to hate me. I could see how she became Kat's best friend. "I mean I
like
her."

She didn't answer this time, but she pressed her lips together so tight I was worried they might not open again.

"I like her and, as silly as this may sound, I think I love her."

I waited for Sara to lunge for my throat. When she didn't, I continued. "I know she still loves Adam and that she still misses him and everything. But I'm willing to wait. I know I'm not like my brother. I've done things that I fully and truly regret, but Kat isn't one of them. I'm not a patient man, but I'd wait for her. I just want to know if there's something to wait for."

The silence that followed felt ominous, and I realized that I'd rather hear Sara get mad at me. I wasn't sure if the lack of verbal attack should be taken positively or not.

Sara hoisted Kat's bag over her shoulder as she reached for the door knob. But before she left, she stared at me for a long time, assessing me from head to toe.

I have no troubles being watched on stage. Because no matter how harsh the criticism may be, people are going to judge you by the way you bring a fictional character to life. But having someone watch you and judge you by your personal character based on the words you deliver, that's a different matter altogether.

Sara took a breath and glanced at her watch. "You could've told her that instead of wasting my time," she said. Then she turned around left the room.

"Thank you," I called out, though I wasn't sure why.

"I still don't like you though!" she answered back without looking at me, and I thought I heard the smile in her voice.

Chapter Twenty−Seven

Kat

I couldn't remember how I got home that night, nor how I ended up in my bathtub soaked from head to toe still wearing my clothes.

All I knew was that I was staring at the tiled wall without really looking at it. I was numb, and my mind was blank, like a new canvas waiting to be painted on. Maybe it was shock, or maybe I had finally reached the point where I exhausted my body's ability to feel anything.

I closed my eyes and slowly lowered my body in the lukewarm water, submerging myself. It was quiet, but it wasn't the kind of silence that detaches you from the world, but not enough to free you from the weight of it.

I thought about staying there until I ran out of air. It would be painful, but what is a few minutes of agony compared to an eternity of nothingness? Adam died a more gruesome death; drowning would be easier. All I had to do was to let go. And that's exactly what I did when I pushed the remaining air out my lungs and watched it bubble up to the surface and disappear.

I imagined Adam waiting on the other side. But then I also thought about my parents. It would be unfair to them. All this time they thought I was doing okay, when in reality, I was cheating.

How would they react after discovering my lifeless body floating in the bath? Would they blame themselves or would they simply cry and realize that they had seen it coming all along?

Would I have thought of killing myself if Adam didn't show up in the woods after the accident? Would I have been able to accept the fact that he was gone?

My chest started to hurt as my lungs craved for air. I told myself to keep still, that the pain would pass. I grabbed the tub's edge as tight as I could, holding my body underwater.

It will be over soon,
I thought.
I'll see Adam any moment now.

My body started to shake, and as much I tried to hold my breath until the very end, instinct took over and I pulled myself out of the water gasping for air.

Death is harder for the ones left behind than the dead themselves. We feel bad thinking they can no longer enjoy what life has to offer, when in reality, we feel bad for ourselves because we can no longer enjoy life with them. We are selfish beings.

***

I woke up the next day feeling horrible, and I tried my best to hide it from my parents. My eyes were a dead giveaway though. They were still puffy and red from crying.

"What happened?" Dad asked as soon as I sat down beside him for breakfast.

"Wasn't able to sleep last night," I said. I should've stayed in my room. But I didn't want them to worry about me, because worrying meant explaining myself to them. And explaining would involve lying. I was sick and tired of lying.

"The play was great," Mom said softly, and I could feel her eyes on me. "Eric was great as Tiny Tim."

"He was," I said, taking a bite of scrambled eggs and chewing it slowly.

"We were looking for you last night after the performance, but you disappeared." Mom said

"I went straight to the party. I told you guys about it."

"You did?" Dad asked, then he immediately added, "And where was this party?"

There was something about his tone that told me he knew. And when he didn't press it, I knew I was right. Everyone in town knew about the party. The thought made my stomach clench and I felt the scrambled eggs making its way back up my throat.

"Can I be excused now?" I asked, lifting up from my seat without waiting for their answer.

"You barely touched your food," Mom pointed out. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Just then, our doorbell rang.

"I'll get that," I said, relieved for the sudden distraction.

Sara stood holding my bag when I opened the door. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw my face, but she pretended not to care, at least for the time being.

"Who is it?" Mom asked from the dining room.

I took a step aside and Sara leaned half her body through the door and said, "Hi Mrs. Vanburgh, it's Sara! I'm just going to borrow your daughter for a sec!"

She then wrapped her hand around my arm and pulled me towards our front porch where we sat on a wooden bench Dad made back when he was trying his hand out on carpentry.

Sara placed my bag on my lap and I held it against my chest. It felt nice to be holding onto something. It prevented me from falling apart. "I'm sorry," I said, saying the words before I changed my mind. "I should have told you everything."

"Yeah, I totally came here to hear that apology," she said, and I instantly knew that I was forgiven. "Are you sure we should be talking about this?"

I didn't answer. Even after more than ten years of being Sara's best friend, she never ceased to amaze me.