Authors: A.C. Dillon
Change Of Season (31 page)
EIGHTEEN
Oakville; November 17
th
, 2011
The phone was ringing.
Again
.
Exasperated, Autumn shoved her math homework aside and reached for her cell phone, ready to order Veronica to stop calling and just come upstairs instead if she needed constant support. Her eyes scarcely caught the caller ID before she hit answer – a good thing, too.
“Hi, Mom.”
“
Hey sweetie! I know you’re probably busy, but I wanted to confirm what time we should arrive on Saturday night
.”
Saturday night: her reward for her progress in therapy. Emma had recently had a lengthy and, from what she’d been able to pick up between the lines, heated discussion with Headmistress Logan about lifting her campus restrictions sooner than ninety days. It was a matter of treatment, Emma had argued: Autumn was, in her mind, suffering from a severe anxiety disorder, amplified by the unfamiliar surroundings of Casteel and the sense of being caged that the restrictions created. For a better prognosis, Emma had recommended immediately lifting all restrictions. While Logan had refused, she had given up some ground: for the next three weeks, Autumn was free to go home for Saturday nights only, and full weekends thereafter, provided her grades and behaviour remained acceptable. A very small price to pay for time with her family.
“The show starts promptly at seven, so you’ll need to be here by six-thirty at the latest. The parking lot will probably get crazy near the theatre, so maybe six-fifteen?”
Veronica had her reasons for the non-stop calls:
Spring Awakening
opened that evening, running for four days and six shows, with the option to extend for another four the following week. Her parents were coming to see the show and taking her home with them afterwards. While her parents were fairly progressive, she hoped that the nudity didn’t unsettle them
too
much.
“
Sounds good. Did you want us to bring you dinner? Apple cider?
”
“Mom, I’m seventeen. I can eat all by myself now!” Autumn smiled. She missed her mother’s doting even though she feigned annoyance every time.
“
Hey, you’re legally a minor until next year. I get to smother you at least until then after the thirty-seven hours of labour you put me through!
” Her mother laughed, and Pandora squeaked in the background. “
Your feline friend is very excited to see you, by the way. She knows you’re coming
,
somehow
.”
“It’s not hard, Mom. You do the same crazed cleaning and baking every time I return from a trip. Pandora knows the routine. Anyway, I hate to be rude, but it’s opening night and I have to finish this stupid calculus before the show.”
“
No problem. We’ll be there at six-fifteen Saturday night. I’ll call your cell when we’ve parked.
”
A knock on the door jarred her – the
rat-tat-tat
of it a dead giveaway: Veronica. Crossing the room, she juggled her cell against her shoulder as she flipped the deadbolt.
“Give Dad and Pan hugs for me.” Her hand clamped over her friend’s as she opened the door, urging her silence. “Oh, and Mom?”
“
Yeah, baby?
”
“Grande Caramel Apple Spice and a ginger molasses cookie?”
Her mother chuckled knowingly. “
Of course. Love you.
”
“Love you too.” Hanging up, she released Veronica, who whirled around in a frenzy of silk skirt and long waves of golden hair. “And you! Calm down!”
Veronica shook her head furiously as she paced, the slapping sound of her steps drawing Autumn’s attention. She wasn’t even wearing shoes! Was this normal for her on opening nights?
“V, you’re freaking me out. I’m ten seconds from calling a nurse up here if you don’t sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”
Her friend sighed loudly, throwing herself onto the spare bed and tapping her foot violently against the wall. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. It’s just… I can’t find it!”
“Find what?”
Veronica bit her lip. “You’re going to think it’s crazy.”
Autumn kneeled beside her, smiling warmly. “Actresses have quirks. It’s what makes them great. What can’t you find?”
In a murmured hush, Veronica replied in a single stream of syllables: “
Myluckybra
.”
“Your lucky what?”
“My lucky bra! I can’t find it!” Veronica growled in frustration, kicking her foot against the bed frame. “I know it’s strange, but I always wear this one specific bra
only
on opening nights! I don’t wear it any other time, because I want it to last until my Broadway debut, if that ever happens. But it’s not in my drawers, and not in the closet, and not in my laundry. My mom says it isn’t at home, either!” Looking up at Autumn’s bewildered expression, she wailed, “See? You think I’m crazy!”
Autumn shook her head, struggling not to giggle. Veronica didn’t need a lucky charm to wow an audience. She was gifted with a voice and ability to slip into a role completely. But if this bra made her feel relaxed, they would have to try and find it.
“Okay, let’s start slowly: when did you last wear it?”
Veronica groaned. “I did a summer production of
Hamlet
. But Mom says it’s not there, or she’d drive it to me-”
“Not what I asked,” Autumn interrupted. “Do you remember packing it for school this year?”
“Yes! Or, I think I did. I know I had it out when preparing to pack. I’m in Drama! Ugh, I’m being so dramatic. Okay, think… Yes. I must have packed it.”
Autumn nodded. “Okay! Now, you checked Dora’s drawers too, just in case?”
Veronica nodded. “I did that before I called Mom. No luck. I even made her lift her top, in case she’d put it on.”
“Um, V? Dora’s a B-cup. You’re a D.”
Veronica shrugged. “Prank?”
“And you’re
absolutely certain
you
never, ever
wear it on
any
other day but an opening?” Autumn doubted this very much. Veronica was a bit scatterbrained at times. She sensed that if she went down to room 214, she’d find the bra lodged in the sleeve of a blouse.
“Look, I told you that I’m trying to keep it in good order! It’s the perfect bra for any costume. It’s cut to work with plunging necklines, scoops, strapless dresses, even keyhole –
oh my God, Evan
!” Veronica’s face turned crimson as she slapped her forehead. “The dance! My other bra I’d normally wear for that dress was dirty, so I put on my lucky one because I had no time to do laundry.”
Autumn grinned. “See? Is it stuck in the dress then?”
Veronica shook her head. “Um… it’s in Evan’s room?”
Autumn burst out laughing, her knees buckling. Even with the scarcity of free time in the last few weeks, Veronica and Evan had managed to become close. Yet she hadn’t even considered that her lingerie might be hiding in the room she’d snuck into after the dance. Nothing serious had happened – Veronica had told her they’d kissed and talked, and perhaps had a drink or few – but she had come back the next morning in Evan’s t-shirt and sweatpants, dress hidden under her arm.
“Oh, hush! Can I use your phone?”
Autumn passed it over, still giggling. “I look forward to Evan having to smuggle it over here in daylight!”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “Please! I’ll go to him and swap bras in his room… Evan! Hi! What… No, I’m getting ready, and having a crisis that I hope you can solve…. Okay, can you um… well… is my bra in your room?” Veronica flushed harder, smiling at whatever Evan had said. “Okay… Twenty? Done…. Hey! What kind of girl do you take me for? …Yes, yours. Bye.”
“Well?”
“Meeting him in Trudeau in twenty.” Veronica rose to her feet, breathing in and out deeply to steady herself.
“What was that ‘kind of girl’ business, hmm?”
“He, um… He said he kept it so he could buy me a set for Christmas and get the right size.”
“Oh my God!” Autumn’s ribs ached from laughter now.
“Hey! He said it was to match a dress! Mind out of gutter, wifey!” Veronica slapped her arm, shaking her head. “I’m going now, if you care.”
“That’s the funny part: Evan’s so sweet, he’s not even lying.” As Veronica threw open the door, she added, “Six-thirty backstage, right?”
“I suppose, if you’re not busy laughing.” Veronica feigned anger, but it was no use: she was just as amused.
“You’re welcome!”
The door slammed and Autumn rolled over, gasping for air. They were undoubtedly one of the cutest couples she’d ever seen, aside from her own parents. They talked a brave game, but each was shy, and both were hopeless romantics who had a tendency to go overboard with gifts. Veronica was already plotting to score one of the hotel rooms in the ACC that overlooked the ice for a Leafs game.
Glancing at her phone, she winced at the time. Only an hour left before she was due at the theatre, and she hadn’t eaten yet.
Sorry, Jesus Calculus, your homework will just have to wait
. With a spring in her step, she gathered her things for the showers. She had to look decent – after all, she was on stage tonight.
***
“Stage seating! Where are my stage seating VIPs?”
Lucas seemed ready to collapse as he rushed around, waving a clipboard at his actors and crew, only to pivot and suddenly recall the eight students who would be seated on stage. This was the third time he’d beckoned Autumn and the others, only to quickly dart off again as a light seemed crooked, or the guitar too muted alongside the drums. Professor Hurst was known for remaining hands-off on opening nights, instead holding a final cast circle in an adjoining classroom – primarily a chance to check-in, confess anxieties, and reassure each other. Veronica insisted it was a tremendous help, and they often sang a ridiculous song or two to shake off the inevitable jitters.
“Lucas?” Autumn decided that someone needed to step in, and for Veronica’s sake, she’d suck it up and do it.
“Huh? Yeah?”
“How about you tell me where you’d like the stage seating group to wait, and I’ll make sure they get there for you?”
Lucas smiled nervously, tapping his pen on the clipboard as he scanned the area. “Uh, yes… Okay, the cast will need to gather over there…. but they need to seat you first so… there. Yeah.” He waved to the side corridor that provided the main access from the front of the house to backstage.
“Got it. We’ll be there waiting to be seated at quarter to.”
“Yeah, quarter to seven. Seated before the cast.”
She ignored him, knowing that all efforts to communicate further were futile. She returned to the small group in front of the stage, her black dress swishing lightly around her knees.
“He needs us just off stage. Follow me.”
This was old hat for her: she’d done the stage seating so many times at the Toronto production, she knew the ushers by name. Her last few shows, she’d led people to the appropriate spot to await escort, warning them about the bathroom breaks and insisting the jog up to the third level facilities was worth the time saved. Tonight’s stage seating consisted mostly of the significant others of cast, with the exception of Evan. Veronica had insisted that Autumn have opening night.
“Plus,” she’d admitted quietly, “I would hate to screw up and have him
right there
on stage. He can sit on stage Friday. Thursday? Orchestra level or bust.”
Most of them were familiar faces now. Autumn had spent the last few weeks studying in the theatre during daily rehearsals, scribbling away at Biology questions while every note was run through dozens of times. Dance leaders choreographed each scene down to the tiniest detail, studying video footage of the Broadway production for authenticity. Costumes were donned, and chairs tossed around on stage.
Amidst all the bustling confusion, Autumn pretended this "gesture of support" wasn’t an enormous excuse to avoid seeing Andrew Daniels.
He’d stopped emailing her now after several days of excuses and apologies. Her chest ached when she thought of him, imagining that same sad look he’d worn when they’d last seen each other. He deserved so much better than she was able to offer him. He was thoughtful, funny and kind. He’d been abandoned enough in one lifetime, and she’d gone and done it again. Even if it were for his sake – for his protection – she was a cruel soul, and she wore this guilty burden every second of the day.