Chapter 1
~MARI~
The stage wing was thick with shadows. I sat in a metal chair in the alcove between the curtain and the wall, my finger trailing down the pages of the play. They just about knew their lines. The one guy who fumbled was getting chewed out by the director, Mr. Tucker. He was a young teacher, but he wanted perfection from day one. Since this was day twenty-seven, I supposed he was within his right to be agitated. The cast didn't seem to be into this production.
Leaning forward, I looked out past the stage and into the rows of seats. Trystan wasn't there. That guy had chronic time issues. It didn't matter that he was the lead in this production. His mind was a sieve when it came to learning his lines, so Tucker appointed me to run them with him on a daily basis. This daunting task should have been done prior to practice, but Trystan was late. Again. If he didn't have charisma and a shockingly beautiful face, someone else would have been given the lead. But, when the guy finally learned his lines, he would make a room full of people swoon - especially the women.
There wasn't a girl around who didn't want to be me. Every single actress and stage-hand offered to help Trystan learn his lines, but Tucker chose me. Why? Because I wasn't interested in hanging out with a guy who couldn't keep his lips to himself. That made me the best candidate, so I've been badgering the hottest guy in school for the past two years. Thank God he was a senior and this was the end of it. If I had to put up with his friend Seth much longer, I'd cut my ears off.
Pushing off my chair, I took the play book and went to find Trystan. If he still didn't know his lines, Trystan would be a dead man. By extension, I'd also get slammed in the crossfire. Public humiliation wasn't my thing. I'd shove the play book down his throat if Trystan still didn't know the second act in full today.
Careful not to make any noise, I pushed past the black curtains that stretched floor to ceiling. Several more rows of black curtains hung behind the stage concealing the cinder block wall at the back. The set wasn't finished yet, so they were still practicing with bare bones on a half empty stage. I moved quietly and tried to stay out of sight.
Trailing my fingers against the cold walls, I felt my way through the darkness to the back of the stage. Inky shadows covered everything with only slices of light shining through. At the back of the stage there were three doors. Two led to dressing rooms and one led down into the prop room. The prop room was an oversized basement that spanned under the stage. It contained half a century worth of flats, props, and wardrobe. I felt for the metal doorknob and wrapped my fingers around it. Mr. Tucker's voice was growing more agitated by the moment. If he saw me, he'd scream for Trystan - then we'd both be screwed. Turning the knob ever so slowly, I pulled the basement door open, careful not to make a sound and stepped around it.
As I stood on the landing, I could hear voices below. Trystan was down there, probably sitting on the couch with his feet kicked up. His voice lacked the normal playfulness. It actually sounded uncertain. "No, it's not like that. You don't get it. Everything about her is just - " he sighed as he trailed off.
Another voice cut him off. This one was more self-assured, more confident. He spoke with the authority only a jock could fully manage. "The girl's a tease, Trystan. What's the point of chasing after her if she won't put out?" That was a typical Seth question. Talk about poor choice in friends. I expected the conversation to stop. I wasn't that quiet, but the landing was high above the stairwell and tucked at the top of the staircase behind a wall of unused flats. They didn't seem to realize that I was there.
"I can't stop thinking about her," Trystan sighed, "Every time I close my eyes, she's there. I can't get her out of my head." His voice sounded haunted, like this girl had really gotten to him. Which was something since Trystan dated everyone and was serious about no one.
As the door clicked shut, I remained motionless - silent - but the metallic click echoed through the room. My heart rate shot up into being-chased-by-a-bear territory. I wanted to hear who she was, who made him sound like that, but the longing in his voice made me feel like a voyeur. I shouldn't be standing there. I shouldn't be listening. This was a private conversation, but I was already there.
Acting like I just walked through the door, I bounded down the metal stairs. I walked around the corner and stepped in front of the flats. Both of them looked up at me.
Seth was saying, "You need a college girl. Forget these high school girls," as I rounded the corner.
Seth was the size of a football player with a toned muscular body, but never seemed to do anything to get that way. His sandy hair was buzz cut, like he had enlisted. He was sitting on a chair across from Trystan, who was slouched back on an old leather couch with his hands behind his head. When Trystan looked up at me, he dropped his hands and straightened a little. There was something in his eyes, something about the way he glanced at Seth, that made me uneasy. He probably thought I heard what he just said.
Seth turned and looked at me, then back to Trystan. His voice grew louder, more cocky, "Besides, high school girls don't know how to give a decent blowjob. Do they, Mari?" Seth the pig liked to pick on inexperienced girls and make them blush. It was a pastime for him. From hanging around Trystan, I had become accustomed to his crass questions. My face no longer flushed, although he never stopped trying. The guy talked about sex so much that it no longer shocked me. It was like his brain was swimming in a lust serum. Seth wasn't hard on the eyes, but his mouth made him repulsive.
Trystan's eyes flicked up to mine after Seth spoke. He had no idea what my experience was with guys, if any. Sometimes it felt like everyone thought I was celibate, as though I'd taken an oath or something just because I didn't want to make out with every guy I met. This confused Trystan. He'd said things in the past, but I didn't feel the need to explain myself.
I tossed the play book on the battered coffee table and sat down next to Trystan. Answering Seth, I said, "I'm not planning on giving you demonstration." Trystan's blue gaze was on the side of my face. His lips parted slightly like he was surprised. I turned toward him. "What?"
He shook his head smiling, "Nothing. Just didn't expect you to say that." He folded his arms across his chest. The black shirt he was wearing made his eyes look like sapphires. They were such a dark shade of blue.
"So who's a tease?" I asked, assuming that they heard me on the staircase. "Do I know her?"