Chapter Fourteen
Rebecca came very close to skipping school on Monday morning. She had barely slept the whole weekend, and she hated the thought of dragging herself through an endless routine of boring classes. But after giving it some thought, she decided that facing assignments was better than spending the day alone in an empty house, jumping at every sound.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Mr. Russ’s face. What little sleep she did manage to get, she spent dreaming of him hanging from the rafters of the stage, with the phantom’s voice laughing in the background. Sometimes that phantom sounded like Justyn, but other times she was sure it was Tom. And sometimes it was the nameless, faceless monster that was stalking her waking nightmares. Those nightmares were the predominant thoughts on her mind when she joined her friends at their lunch table on Monday afternoon. Even the fact that Tom chose to sit with them didn’t cheer her up. In fact, he and his annoying sidekick, Jay, were only making the day that much worse with their inconsiderate and uncouth topic of conversation.
“I heard he hung himself in the bathroom stall.”
Tom made exaggerated gagging noises as he strung his own neck with an invisible noose. The others at the table laughed, but Rebecca grunted in disgust. Not that anyone noticed.
“I heard he was strangled,” Carmen added. “They say when they found him, he had huge red hand prints around his neck.”
Carmen was quick to chime in whenever anyone was talking about anything dramatic. She couldn’t stand being left out, so Rebecca expected no less from her. But she was surprised when even quiet Debbie starting to take part in the morbid talk. It wasn’t like her at all.
“The guys who found his body swear they saw a man in a cape and a mask running from the bathroom,” Debbie whispered. “They’re sure it was the killer.”
Jay always wanted the last word. “I heard he drowned in the toilet bowl.”
Rebecca had enough. With an outraged huff, she tossed her spoon down onto her lunch tray, so hard that remnants of yogurt shot across the table and splashed Carmen in the face.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Carmen wiped yogurt off her nose with the sleeve of her shirt and gave Rebecca a dirty look.
“My problem is that someone is dead! A human being is gone forever. It would be nice if someone would show a little respect, maybe an ounce of compassion, instead of treating his death like one big joke!”
Debbie was quick to agree and looked embarrassed. “You’re right, Becca. We shouldn’t be making jokes when someone was killed.”
“Old Russ bit the big one. He kicked the can,” Jay said with a snicker. “He’s pushing up daisies. What do you want us to do? Cry like a bunch of babies?”
Rebecca lost what little was left of her composure. She stood from the table and grabbed her lunch tray, prepared to stomp away. Tom grabbed her arm and gently pulled her back into the seat. She didn’t have the energy to fight him and she didn’t even realize she was crying until he used his napkin to wipe away her tears.
“I had no idea you had such a soft spot for poor old Mr. Russ,” Tom said gently. “I’m sorry if we upset you.”
“No . . . I’m sorry,” Rebecca said through a hiccup. “I had no right to yell at you guys. It’s just that I . . . that I feel . . . responsible for what happened.”
“What?” Carmen exclaimed. “How could you possibly be to blame for what happened to that creepy old man?”
“The same way I’m responsible for what happened to Wendy.” Rebecca sighed and put her head in her hands. “Someone called me before the dance. They warned me that if I went with Tom, something horrible would happen. And now Mr. Russ is dead. He’s dead because of me!”
Tom was skeptical. They all were, but he was the only one brave enough to address her when she was apparently having a nervous breakdown. “Becca, I don’t doubt that someone is trying to scare you. But don’t you think that killing someone would be taking the joke a little too far? Not even that Gothic freak would do something like that.”
“I don’t think it’s a joke.”
Rebecca crossed her arms and glared at him. Tom’s statement had been condescending. It was the remark about Justyn that had annoyed her the most, even though she didn’t mention it.
“I actually have to agree with Tom,” Debbie said. “Whatever happened to Mr. Russ, it couldn’t have anything to do with you, Becca. Of all the people to target, why would anyone choose him? He had nothing to do with you. There’s no motive.”
“I have no idea why they picked him. But we can’t deny that he’s dead, that he was murdered.”
“Dude, Mr. Russ was a schizophrenic nut job,” Jay told her. “He probably really did drown himself in the toilet. Let it go already.”
Rebecca did let it go. At least, she made the conscious effort not to bring it up again for the rest of the lunch period. Her friends were careful not to mention the janitor either. It became obvious by the strained silence and nervous glances that they all wondered if she was a schizophrenic nut job as well. And maybe she was. Maybe she was crazy, plain and simple. The notes and phone calls could be irrational delusions. Maybe she was trying so hard to play the part of Christine that she was tricking herself into believing she had become her on a deeper level. That would certainly explain her strange fascination with the mysterious Lord Justyn.
Even as she thought about Justyn, she reached into her handbag and stroked the crystal geode he had given her. She had tossed it into her bag as an afterthought that morning when she left for school. It did somehow comfort her when she felt its smooth surface between her fingers. It was ironic; the person who had given it to her should have been her number one suspect. Not even the magic of the geode could keep her thoughts from straying back to poor Mr. Russ and his unfortunate end. She kept seeing his accusing face all throughout her afternoon classes. She almost expected to see him glaring at her every time she turned a corner.
Once she arrived at rehearsal, her irrational worries continued to plague her and hindered her performance. More than once, she hit a sour note, and every time she did she was painfully aware of Wendy’s laughter on the side of the stage. Her thoughts kept her from noticing the tension growing around her between Tom and Justyn—tensions that finally came to a head during the sword-fighting scene.
The fighting scene was one of only a few that Justyn and Tom shared. It was also the first time they had seen each other since the disastrous Halloween dance. Tom had apparently heard rumors of her waltz with Justyn because it was plainly obvious that he was unhappy. It was obvious to everyone but Rebecca, who was in her own unpleasant little world. She watched the fight scene unwind with glazed eyes. Her character was supposed to be watching in horror. Instead, Rebecca was staring off into space with her arms crossed while the two boys exchanged blows with their plastic swords in her name. It wasn’t until Tom had Justyn pinned to the ground in feigned defeat that Rebecca realized it wasn’t just pretending anymore.
“Do you think you’re going to move in on my girlfriend?” Tom poked Justyn in the ribs with the plastic sword just a little harder than was necessary. “Stay away from Becca!”
Rebecca saw Justyn’s eyes flash dangerously. Even though his voice was calm, there was clearly a threat in his words. “What if Becca doesn’t want me to stay away from her?”
Rebecca immediately came to her senses and ran over to break up the duel. Other people were watching too, with more attention than usual. It was obvious that the scene had strayed from the normal act. As she moved closer, and Justyn rose to his feet, phony sword forgotten, she had to wonder if she was going to be able to stop the inevitable.
“Cease this folly!
End this mad game!
No more violence.
In the angel’s name!”
Rebecca desperately wrung her hands. Both Justyn and Tom were as oblivious to her as she had been to them just a moment earlier. They didn’t hear her melodic pleas for restraint, and they both seemed to forget their own lines as they continued to glare at one another. Rebecca scanned the crowd for Miss King, but the useless moderator was too busy flirting with the orchestra’s bandmaster to pay any attention to what was happening between the actors on the stage.
“I’m sick and tired of you always getting in my way, vampire!”
“And I’m tired of your juvenile comments. Is talking the only thing you can do?”
That was the challenge Tom needed. He threw his sword to the ground and moved in closer. “Why don’t I show you what I can do?”
Rebecca saw Tom’s arm preparing to swing, and she knew she had to intercede. She couldn’t let anyone else get hurt because her. Even as she jumped between the boys, she knew it was more than just the fight that was going to come to an end. She’d had it with everything. It wasn’t worth the fear, the threats, or the fighting. As much as she had once loved the story of the phantom, at that moment she hated it to the very core of her being.
“Stop it! Just stop it! Both of you!”
Tom’s arm immediately fell to his side when Rebecca blocked his target, but his fists were still balled in frustration. Each word was enunciated through his clenched teeth. “Move out of the way, Becca.”
“Yes, Becca, go ahead. Move out of his way.” Justyn agreed. His musical voice was still irritatingly calm.
“No, I won’t get out of the way unless the two of you promise to stop acting like Neanderthals!”
Justyn huffed. “There’s only one Neanderthal here.”
Rebecca was getting more and more aggravated. Her anger didn’t seem to faze Tom or Justyn. Luckily, Miss King had finally noticed what was happening and came over to break things up. It was a good thing too, because Rebecca was done trying to keep the peace. She was done acting the part of the damsel. She had made a decision. To the horror of Miss King and the rest of the cast, Rebecca threw up her arms in defeat and stomped off the stage.
“That’s it!” she declared. “I’m done. I’m quitting the play!”