Circle the Soul Softly (4 page)

Julia dings:

bratgurl444: r u there?
kt13: yeah. sry.
bratgurl444: what happened to stacey?

Frazier at Layla's:

sweetlayla: do me a favor, ok? don't talk to anybody about stace
kt13: k
sweetlayla: ur cool. thanks.

Julia:

bratgurl444: katie? who else r u talking 2?

To Frazier/Layla:

kt13: no problem. is stacey ok?

Julia:

bratgurl444: u there
bratgurl444: i heard she tried to commit suicide
kt13: who did?

To Frazier/Layla:

kt13: is stacey okay?
kt13: frazier?
kt13: julia says stacey tried to commit suicide!

Julia:

bratgurl444: stacey. who else?
bratgurl444: i thought u said u were there.

A box appears:

User sweetlayla is no longer signed on.

Julia:

kt13: i was but I don't think that happened.
bratgurl444: didn't u see the ambulance?
kt13: no.
bratgurl444: r u telling me the truth?
kt13: no, i'm lying. what do u think?
bratgurl444: whatever. g2g.
kt13: k. bye.
bratgurl444: they won't be ur friends, even if u protect her.

TEN

Tess doesn't know if we can do the play. This isn't the first time Stacey's had trouble with substance abuse, and the school may kick her out. For now she's suspended, and her dad has called a lawyer. We can't recast—we're too far along. We can't reschedule—the flyers have all gone out. The deans are phoning the parents of everyone they think was there to let them know what happened. No one's mentioned suicide.

“It wasn't a
school
party,” Jake argues. He's pissed and doesn't care who knows it.“They have absolutely no right to punish her.”

“The
police
notified the school, Jake,” Tess tells us. “Stacey's parents were out of town. The housekeeper gave them our number.”

“They still don't have the right—” Jake's on a rant.

“It doesn't matter, does it?” Tess interrupts. “It's done.”

Layla shakes her head. “This is so not fair. We called 9-1-1—”

“What's ‘so not fair' is that Stacey got high. She put herself, all of you, and our show in jeopardy,” Tess says. I nod my head before I realize I'm doing it. Jake starts to protest, but Tess holds up her hand and glares at him. I've never seen her like this. “And your parents should have been home.”

“Tess—” Layla starts to say.

Tess shakes her head. “No. No more discussion.” She stands and doesn't even try to smile. “Rehearsals are canceled until we find out what's going to happen. Now go away, please. Check the board tomorrow.”

Time loops back to before I got cast in the play and drops me smack in the middle of the Isolation Ward. I spend the entire morning without talking, until the dean of students sidles up at snack and wants to know my version of what happened. He says he's talking to everyone. I say I saw the ambulance and the cops and left. I say I never ran into Stacey again after I first saw her on the porch. He nods but doesn't believe a word.

All day the party's the main topic of conversation and we “theater kids” are heavily scrutinized. The rumors are vicious—obviously I'm not the only one who's felt Stacey's wrath. Frazier and Layla and Jake escape off campus, but I'm stuck; tenth graders can't leave till they're done with classes. I hide out in the greenroom. Tess shuts her office door and I'm alone until David joins me.

“Hey.”

“Do you think she tried to kill herself ?” He half whispers it.

I shrug. “You'd know better than me. You've been here longer.”

“Hey, I don't hang out with them.” He laughs a little.

It suddenly strikes me that David could have left campus too, but instead he's here, with me. I'm suddenly shy.

“I just thought, well, never mind….” I fumble. “And Stacey is so beautiful….”

“Whoa, hold on.
Beautiful?
“

“You don't think so?”

“Maybe if you're into concentration camps.”

We talk through lunch. He drives me home after school and I almost ask if he wants to come in. It's weird to be home by three thirty. Weirder to know that David doesn't think Stacey is hot. He likes to talk to me. Right. Like
that
would ever happen. Still, I can't get him off my mind.

Until I am summoned for the Talk.

“I knew this wouldn't work.” My mother paces as she rants. She's obviously gotten the Phone Call. Robert listens patiently and Michael hovers. He's been up and down the stairs at least three times. I expect he's there to laugh at me.

“The social thing here is way too fast. Way—too—fast. These kids have too much money and no supervision, and they're too old for Kaitlyn to hang out with.”

“They're just a year or two older, Mom,” Michael pipes up, to everyone's surprise.

“I don't recall inviting you to this conversation,” Mom retorts.

“Since when do I need an invitation?”

“Michael—”

“Katie's in tenth grade. She can handle this.”

Is the Universe taunting me? Is this my own asshole brother, being a nice guy? Mom continues as if he never spoke.

“I am not going to have a repeat of last year. If this isn't working, I want to know now. I don't want things sneaking up on me again.”

“It's no different anywhere else,” Robert says quietly. I suddenly remember he has two grown daughters and wonder why we've never met them. “Kate simply went to the party. She wasn't the one whisked off to the hospital.”

“She
still should have told us about it.”

All eyes turn in my direction. I shrug. And did I mention? Smile.

“You should have told us,” Mom repeats. “How am I supposed to trust you now?”

“Oh please,” Michael says in a remarkably easy tone. “You're not exactly accessible these days.”

“I don't know if this is really your business, Mike,” Robert says in an equally easy voice, “or mine, either, actually. Let's let your mother handle it.”

“My sister,my business,” Michael says with a shrug. His voice still sounds pleasant and there's no tight little smile. Maybe because it's not about him?

“All right. Fair enough,” Robert says. “What do you think we should do?”

“Get over it. Shit happens.”

“It does not happen in this family,” my mother insists.

“Mom, Katie didn't OD. She didn't take any drugs and I bet she didn't even drink. She got somebody to bring her home. What else was she supposed to do?”

I am now truly shocked. Michael is 100 percent on my side.

“She should have told us about it,” my mother repeats.

“Please. Get real.” Michael makes a face at her. “How much did you tell
your
parents?”

My mother sighs and her body relaxes a little. “Okay, maybe you're right, but Katie …you have no idea how worried I was last year. And this is—”

I find words! “
So
different, Mom. I swear.”

“Is it? Really? Because we haven't had a chance to talk much since we've been down here….”

I think: Uh, Mom, we have never “talked.”

I say: “It's fine, I'm good. I like the school…. I'm making friends. And the play is awesome.”

“If there is a play,” she reminds me.

“Right. Well, I'm hoping there will be.”

“Okay. But do you promise this time you'll let me know if something's going wrong?”

I avoid looking at Michael's twinkly eyes and nod my head. “I promise.”

ELEVEN

The Official Word: Stacey will come back to rehearsal at the beginning of next week.

The Rumors: The school wanted to kick her out, but her lawyers threatened to sue; she will be only allowed back after she completes a drug and alcohol rehab program; her parents are hiring a full-time therapist to move into their house; her grandfather is donating $500,000 to the school. No doubt Jake and Layla know the real story, but they're not talking.

Tess asks me to take the “Beverly” blocking for her. I don't particularly want to, but I'm the only one completely off book and besides—I am a True Actor. I'll do anything for the play. Every day that week I run my scenes with David and I do Stacey's scenes with Jake and Gabe. I notice people seem to have a lot more fun with each other when Stacey's not here. I also notice how very much I like the fact that David waits around and drives me home.

On Friday Stacey comes to watch. I am so completely into the Mark and Beverly scene that I don't notice her slipping in. We finish the scene; I look to Tess for notes, and there sits the Drama Queen, in all her skinny regal redness. Layla calls out, “Stace!” and everyone swarms around her, even Tess of the no-more- discussion-I-am-really-pissed attitude. Only David stands his ground and, of course, me.

Roles are reversed. Where Stacey did not feel it necessary to applaud when I worked, I do not deem it necessary to fawn over her. I sit on the set and start copying today's work into the script I'm keeping for her. I look up and, witch like, she's appeared.

“So is that mine?” she asks, holding out her hand.These may be the first words she's spoken directly to me.

“Yeah.” I even manage not to smile. “I marked the—”

“Great. Thanks.” She snatches it and heads for the door. Jake and Layla join her on the way out.

“You're welcome,” I mutter loud enough for only me to hear. “Anytime. Glad to do it. Fifteen hours' extra work? Hey—for
you,
not a problem.”

A blink and it's tech week. We spend Saturday writing cues, standing in places, and waiting for the lights to be set. It's boring and long and tedious and, basically, the essence of my life. I love every single second. It doesn't matter anymore who likes who—or doesn't; we're a company and we have a play to do. Even Stacey's acting okay—I haven't had a dirty look from her in days.

Suddenly it's opening night. An hour before curtain Tess takes us down to the dance studio for warm-up and focus. She plays music and turns the lights low and has us walk without relating to anyone, just concentrating on who we are in the play. I know without a second of doubt that this is what it feels like to be
happy
.

“Invite your character in,” Tess directs, and I feel Katie slipping off to the side and Maggie taking her place. The overwhelming fear of knowing my husband is dying starts to dictate the way my body moves, how I look at David and little Matt, the sixth grader who is playing my son, even how I sip my coffee. I imagine pain in the area around my heart, and the rest of me closes in as protection. I'm vaguely aware of the same phenomenon occurring to the actors around me. Tess moves us through the work and leads us back to the theater. Before I can grapple with the sounds of the audience settling in, places are called and we begin.

The Shadow Box
is even more powerful onstage than I expected.“Beverly” and “Brian” and “Mark” rage and fight, and the tears that spring to “Mark's” eyes after “Beverly” slaps him are not from the pain of the slap. I, “Maggie,” resist and finally break under the relentless pressure to accept the fact that “Joe” is dying. “Agnes” realizes that all her efforts to help “Felicity” only prolong her suffering. Finally we face the audience together—changed—and play the final scene.

Music starts, lights fade to blackout, a second of absolute silence—then, applause. Lights come up and the audience actually stands. People are wiping their eyes. We hit the greenroom and David lets out a bloodcurdling cheer, startling us into laughter, forcing us back to ourselves. Frazier hugs me. David hugs me. Everyone starts changing, right in front of each other, as they babble about the play. Even little Matt has something to say. Bereft of Maggie, I stand mute. No one notices. I pick up my street clothes and duck into the bathroom.

Outside, kids from the school and people I don't even know stop to tell me how good I was. I'm still trying to figure out how to be myself, connect, and enjoy this part of the process. Michael grabs me and hugs me.

“Who knew?” he whispers, and shoves a dozen roses at me. My brother is actually embarrassed! I want the right thing to say back to him, but I'm too slow. He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek and makes his escape.

Mom and Robert stand off to the side, grinning like they could bust open. I keep finding eyes of other cast members and, despite my determination not to care if they acknowledge me, I love how everyone smiles back. Tess tells me how happy she is that I came to Bentley Evans. David wraps his arms around me from behind. My mom grins even more and heads toward me.

“We're all going to my house,” David whispers in my ear.

“I don't think I can,” I say back.

“Can what, honey?” Mom asks, joining us.

“I'm having the cast over,” David announces, backing off from his bear hug. His voice changes a little. I don't think I've ever heard him this polite. “I was seeing if Kate wanted
to come.”

Frazier slips her arm through mine. “Yeah, come on, Katie, it won't be very late. We have a show tomorrow.”

“Where do you live?” Robert asks.

“Are your parents home?” my mom says at the same time.

I see Stacey behind them, rolling her eyes. “Actually, they're not,”David says, in that same courteous manner,“but my housekeeper is. And I just live over on Avondale.”

“That's close,” says Robert.

“It's just the cast. We're ordering pizza,” Frazier says.“Tell me when you want Kate home and I'll make sure she's there.” She's acquired the same charming personality.

“You're welcome to come too, if you want,” David adds. I happen to catch the expression that flits over Frazier's face and realize David is scamming my mom. And it's working.

She smiles at him and talks to me. “Okay, but home by one, all right?”