Understudy (7 page)

"I want to talk about it now," I said, hoping that he wouldn't be able to detect the anger in my voice, but he did.

He propped himself up on his elbow and gently tilted my face towards him. "Did something happen?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

He didn't know. I always thought that being dead makes you aware of everything, like you become an omnipresent being. But I remembered that Adam was stuck in the woods, alone in a quiet place, waiting for that short three hours when he got to see me.

"What do you do when I'm not around?" I asked, tracing circles on the ground with my index finger.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Don't you get to travel somewhere? You know, to pass time."

"Kat−"

"I mean, it's lonely here."

"What's wrong?"

"It's unfair, you know."

"Do you want me to leave?"

My head snapped up, fear building in my chest. My mouth suddenly felt dry.  

"Are you planning to?"

He shrugged. "Well, if you want me to," he said, although his voice shook a little as he spoke.

"I don't want you to."

"Well, I just might if you continue ignoring my question."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not."

"Kat−"

"Eric's here," I said, the words slipping out of my lips before I could think about it.

"What?"

"Your brother is here."

Adam sat up and looked around the woods. 

"Well, not exactly here," I said, looking away and fixing my gaze on a little caterpillar crawling just a few inches from my sneakers. "I mean he's here in Highcrest. He's in the same class with me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

I felt him move beside me until our shoulders touched. I took a quick glance at his face. His expression was unreadable.

"Sorry, I should've told you earlier. But I can't think straight right now," I said.

"Are you alright?" he asked, draping an arm around my shoulder as he pulled me closer to the familiar curve of his body. A place I considered my home.

"Yes," I lied.

"Did he say or do something to you?"

I shook my head.

Adam pressed his lips to my cheek and sighed, his breath warm against my skin. There were times that I wanted to believe that he wasn't really dead. I mean he was here, breathing with a heartbeat. How could he be dead?

"He wanted me to call Higgins, our lawyer," Adam said out of the blue. For a moment, I thought he was talking to himself.

"What?"

"You were asking about why he called me that night."

"Why would he need a lawyer?"

"I'm not really sure, maybe he got himself in trouble again. It happens so often that I stopped asking questions."

"Do you always help him whenever he gets into trouble?"

He didn't answer. He stared ahead, unseeing, at the cloudy afternoon sky and I wondered what he was thinking.

"You do, right?" I said, sounding more like an accusation than a question.

"He's my brother."

"Were you planning to help him that day?"

"He's my brother," he repeated, as if it was reason enough to tolerate Eric's misbehaviors, even when it cost him his own life.

"Why?"

"You don't understand. I owe it to him."

I pushed myself away from him, not sure if I heard him correctly. "What?"

"I owe him."

"You owe him?" I shook my head, incredulous. Eric was a burden, a nuisance, not someone capable of helping anyone. Let alone have anyone owe him anything. The bomb in my chest exploded. "Look at what happened to you!"

"It was an accident, Kat." He said the words softly. Accident. The word had taken a whole new meaning to me.

Accident. Anything that happened suddenly or by chance without any apparent reason. But the way I looked at it, there were reasons. Eric was one of them, and I couldn't say that I wasn't part of it either.

Adam looked down at his hands. "As much as I want to hate him, I can't. There are some things we can't just ignore. Things we might want to forget, but they are the same things that make us who we are today."

"I can't stand being around him. It hurts."

Adam's eyes softened around the edges as he lifted up my chin to his face. I closed my eyes, and he kissed me. Scenes from my dream flashed in my mind.

My eyes snapped open and for a brief moment, I saw Eric's wicked smile, then it was gone. It lasted for less than a second, but it was enough to shake me to my core. The vision was vivid, and it was as if I could still feel the way he had bitten my lip, and the taste of my own blood.

I immediately pulled away.  "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"What's the matter?" Adam asked, eyeing me warily. Hurt. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No−it's not. It's just..." I scrambled up for words, but I couldn't shake Eric’s face away from my mind. "I don't feel well," I said, pushing myself up from the ground. "I think I should go home now."

"Kat, I'm sorry if−"

"No, don't," I said, cutting him off. I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder, all the while avoiding his gaze. "I'll see you tomorrow.”

"Kat."

I paused, though I didn't look back. Afraid that I might see Eric's face instead.

"I love you," he said. "No matter what happens, I love you and I'll always will."

Tears rushed in as I remembered the moment when I first heard those words coming from his lips. How I felt complete when he said it, knowing that he meant every single word.

I turned back to face him. He was standing with his hands shoved inside his pockets, rocking on his heels. He smiled faintly at me, and it hurt me to realize that he wasn't waiting for an answer.

If there was something more painful than grief, it was guilt. And though I knew that there was nothing I could do to be free from it, I consoled myself to the fact that at least, I was given a chance to do something I should've done before. Even if it was too late.

"I love you, too," I said.

Adam's smile grew wider, though it never reached his eyes. "I know, Kat. I know."

***

I stared down at my beans, aware that my parents were watching me as I played with my dinner. They didn't say anything when I got home, but I knew them enough to know that they were worried about me.

Mom began talking about her latest blog post, which Dad listened to attentively. Or at least that's what he wanted me to think, but his eyes flickered in my direction as if to make sure that I didn't disappear into thin air.

"I even got a comment from someone from India! Isn't that amazing?" Mom asked.

"It is," Dad answered.

"I think if this continues, I might average a hundred comments per post. Maybe I should start putting up some ad space. What do you guys think?"

"That's a good idea."

Finally Mom stopped talking, and both she and Dad turned to look at me expectantly.

"You're quiet," Dad said, as if he hadn’t been checking my every move since I got home. "How's school?"

"It's okay," I said.

"Doesn't look okay to me," he said, putting his fork down on his plate.

"I'm just tired."

"You still doing that library volunteer thing?"

"It ended last week," I said, spearing an asparagus stalk along with some beans and putting it in my mouth, hoping Dad would get the hint that I wasn't in the mood to talk. He didn't.

"So what did you do after class?"

"She was probably with Sara," Mom said, placing a hand over Dad's arm, to remind him to be easy on me.

It was a gesture I'd seen so many times but never gotten used to. I knew what they were thinking. They're my parents and I knew that they truly cared for me, but I was tired of them cutting me extra slack just because of the accident. It was the same with other people too, only much worse. Like how I get to have "extra" chocolate syrup on my sundae at Marty's Diner, Mrs. Druthers giving me a rose or whatever "extra" blooms she happened to have whenever I passed by her beloved garden, strangers letting me cut in line at the cashiers, the list goes on. I knew I should be thankful, but I couldn't help but feel guilty for the undeserved kindness. Still, I realized that I couldn't blame them for their actions. Though some of them may have had the urge to do good, most of them were probably just reacting to the way I was behaving.

If I wanted people to stop looking at me like was some sort of helpless invalid, I had better stop acting like one. Better yet, I should start doing a better job in pretending like I was okay. You know, fake it until you make it. Not tonight though.      

"May I be excused now?" I pushed myself out of my seat, not waiting for their permission.

They didn't stop me, and I was grateful for it. I raced upstairs and locked myself in my room.

I sank on the floor next to my bed, curling myself up into a little ball, wishing I could get smaller and just disappear.

At times like this, talking to Adam would have made me feel better. I could just easily sneak out of my window and run to the woods to meet him. I'd already done that so many times I was surprised I hadn't been caught even once. But I couldn’t talk to Adam, not when he was taking Eric’s side.

I couldn't understand why his parents had decided to let Eric return to Highcrest. It obviously had something to do with the accident. Perhaps losing one son made them want to reconnect with the other, though I doubted they would succeed if that were the case. I may have not spent a lot of time with Eric, but I knew enough to see that his being here would only make things worse.

Eric was selfish and arrogant. He was everything Adam was not, and I couldn't blame his parents if they wished he was the one who died instead. I know I felt that way.

Chapter Eight

Life went on at Highcrest. Teachers still gave impossible pop quizzes. Jocks still bullied math geeks and anyone who didn't belong in the upper crust. Amanda Crover and her minions were still the envy of wannabes, making being blonde and having skinny long legs the ultimate standard of beauty, and I continued to see Adam after school.

Over time, my life fell into a routine. I would wake up in the morning and go to school, meet Adam in the afternoon, tell him how my day went, go home to have dinner with my parents, do some homework, and sleep. It was a cycle I was glad to continue, if only I could be reassured that it would stay that way.

There was the constant fear of waking up one day to find the woods empty. I never told Adam this, though I knew that he felt the same whenever I met him. His face would light up, but from relief than being glad of my presence. I couldn't deny that I felt the same.

I learned to become contented with what my life had become, although there were some relapses. Like when Sara and I would talk about silly stuff over lunch only to be reminded of something Adam had once said, or that one time he made a bad joke but we still ended up laughing our heads off. And of course, there was the person who never failed to remind me that Adam was dead. And that someone entered the room just as Mr. Blake was about to call out his name for the roll call.

"Eric Wharton, just in time yet again!"

Eric walked down to his seat with his hands inside his pockets, completely ignoring Mr. Blake. He was wearing yet another black V−neck shirt over black jeans. I had never seen him wear anything else, not that I cared. I actually thought that it suited him, reflecting his dark attitude.

People had learned to get used to his presence. He no longer made someone freeze in shock as he walked down the hall. No longer making heads turn as he spoke, which rarely happened ever since the cafeteria incident. In short, people had forgotten about Adam. And they hated being around Eric. Well, with the exception of Amanda of course.

"You always know how to make a grand entrance," she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. And though I couldn't see her face, I knew she was ogling at him with her big blue eyes, maybe even giving him her signature wink and pout combo.

Eric didn't respond.

"How do you do that?" Amanda urged, clearly not one to give up easily.

"What?" Eric said with a hint of irritation in his voice. I couldn't blame him for that.

"You know, coming in just before your name is called out."

"May I ask you a question as well?" Eric asked in a similar soft tone.

"Sure."

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"You know," Eric paused, letting out a deep breath. "Being annoying all the time?"

I leaned back on my seat, eager to hear what would happen next. I heard books slamming on the desk, though not loud enough to disrupt Mr. Blake's lecture.

I didn't hate Amanda as much as I hated Eric, and I felt a bit sorry for her for being at the receiving end of his dark side,  even if she had it coming.

Amanda Crover and I had never been friends. And I never wanted to be since she had started flirting with Adam. She was used to getting anything she wanted, boys definitely included. That's why I could only imagine her frustration when Adam ignored her advances. Maybe she thought Eric would be an easier target.

"What's so funny?"

I looked at Sara, who was watching me over her shoulder. I suddenly realized that I was smiling.

Sara appraised me with her cool blue eyes. She could easily pass up as one of Amanda Crover's wannabe minions. Good thing she had the sense of mind not to do so.

"Nothing, I just remembered something," I said, keeping my voice down.

Sara raised an eyebrow but she didn't push the subject further. I fished out a notebook from my bag, flipping it to a new page as I tried to focus on what Mr. Blake was saying. He was talking about the upcoming annual seniors play festival when my chair began to shake a little.

I knew what it was, but I still found myself looking down the floor, careful not to turn my head as I watched Eric's left foot jiggle against one of my chair leg.

I wasn't sure if it was a mannerism or he was just trying to annoy me−which was working. But I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him know that. I busied myself by concentrating on Mr. Blake's words.