Getting REVENGE on Lauren Wood (15 page)

I zipped the bag closed and placed it carefully back down onto the floor.

Maybe this would prove to the universe how serious I was about the whole thing.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Grandma tapped on my door.

One of the downsides to having a grandma who used to be a social worker is that she’s really into talking. She’s not happy unless I’m blathering on about my feelings. She’s always coming into my room so we can have these heart-to-heart talks. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but with my Lauren issues off the table for the discussion, I think she wanted me to have some new and interesting problem she could sink her teeth into. Sometimes I thought about making something up, like telling her I’d been considering a gender reassignment, just so we’d have something new to talk about. Grandma tapped on the door again and leaned her head into my room.

“There’s someone at the front door for you.”

I sat bolt upright in bed. “Someone for me?”

“Yes, it appears someone has discovered your lair despite your hermitlike existence.”

I rolled my eyes and loped downstairs, hoping it wasn’t Lauren. She would recognize my grandma for sure. Brenda was on the stoop holding a basket. She held it out.

“I made you cookies,” she said.

I took the basket and looked inside. Chocolate chip, from the look of things.

“Why?”

“For helping me out, with the play and stuff. Plus I needed to talk to you. Ms. Herbaut called me at home. She’s offering me the role of Eliza,” Brenda said, fidgeting back and forth.

“Oh my God, that’s great!” I did a small dance on our front step, mentally checking off another box on the revenge plan. This news was soooo worth the berry spew. I couldn’t wait to see Lauren’s face when she heard the news.

“I told her I wasn’t sure if I wanted it,” Brenda said, and my dance stopped mid-jig.

“You would be an amazing Eliza. What aren’t you sure about?”

“It’s just that drama means so much to some people, you know. Drama is their
thing
. I don’t really care about it—it’s just something to put on my transcript.”

“So that you can be an astronaut, which
is
your thing,” I pointed out. I took a bite out of a cookie and tried to think of a logical argument that would appeal to Brenda. “What made you worry about this anyway?”

“Christopher. He interviewed me for his film after tryouts
and he kept talking about how important it was to some people, how it was their dream, and I started to think maybe it doesn’t matter if I do the play or not, or I could do a small part.”

“Are you worried about Lauren? Trust me, she wouldn’t worry about you.” I wondered what Lauren had said to him during her interview. I bet she did that thing where she licked her lips when she talked. I hoped he was smart enough not to fall for that, but with guys you never know. They don’t always do their thinking with their brains.

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t still do the right thing. Ms. H. says if I don’t want the lead, she would want me to be the understudy for Eliza. I would still have something to put on my transcript, so it sort of meets my goals.”

I didn’t say anything. One more person who could play second fiddle to Lauren. I was so close. I had thrown up in my purse, for crying out loud, and now she wasn’t sure she wanted this? My mind scrambled around trying to think of a reason why Brenda should take the role that didn’t involve admitting that the whole thing was about Lauren.

“I think it’s cool you’re thinking of everyone else,” I said. Brenda broke into a huge smile. “But …”—my voice trailed off and Brenda’s face dropped—“I have to ask if you’re sure you’re turning down the part for the right reasons.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve admitted that you hate being in front of groups. Are you sure you aren’t backing down because you’re scared?”

“Yeah, being in front of all those people freaks me out. But it’s more than that. Why should I do it if the whole thing isn’t that important to me?”

“Because challenging yourself is the important thing. I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re the kind of person who stays in your comfort zone. Look, you weren’t sure if you wanted to cut your hair, right? You didn’t care about it, so why bother? Right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And now that you cut it, are you glad you did?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this is like the haircut. Sometimes you aren’t always sure why a challenge will make a difference, but you won’t know until you take the leap.”

“Take the leap, huh?”

“Full speed ahead, captain. If it turns out you hate doing the play, it’s not like you have to do theater again, but how will you know if it’s your thing unless you do it? Push yourself, gain the confidence.” I realized I was starting to sound like one of those tacky motivational speakers so I shut up and hoped it worked.

“Do you really think I should?” Brenda asked.

“One hundred percent.”

Brenda took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

Brenda laughed. “Don’t sound so surprised. I trust you. If you think it’s a good idea, I’ll do it.” The cookie I had eaten
moments ago suddenly felt too big for my stomach. I tried to give her a reassuring smile. “I suspect Christopher will also be thrilled,” she said. “I think ‘science nerd-girl takes the lead’ is good for his documentary.”

“Not nerd girl, science-whiz woman,” I countered.

“He asked me about you.”

“What?”

“Well, that got your attention,” said Brenda.

“Seriously, did he ask about me?”

“Yes, seriously, he did.” Brenda picked a cookie out of the basket and began to nibble daintily on it. I tried to act like I didn’t care what Christopher said. I managed to hold out for about three seconds.

“Are you going to tell me what he said?”

Brenda broke into a smile. “He thought it was cool you helped me with the audition. He wanted to know more about you, that kind of thing.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked.

“I told him you were an international spy living undercover.”

“What?”

Brenda laughed. “No, I didn’t say that. I told him that you were a hard person to figure out. Complex. You’re like a black hole or the space-time continuum.”

“I’ve never been compared to a celestial event before.”

“You defy typical comparisons. He also mentioned that the
theater on the strip runs classic movies on Tuesday nights. He goes every week. In case I knew anyone who, you know, might be interested.”

I felt my heart pick up speed. “He did, huh?”

“Yep.” Brenda stepped down from the stoop. “I have to get going. I need to call Ms. H. back.”

I sat on the stoop after she left. There was a part of me that wanted to drop the revenge thing—stop the lies and all the sneaking around so I could hang out with Brenda, have fun with the play, maybe watch some classic movies with Christopher.

I closed my eyes and remembered the moment I knew it was Lauren who had told the lie about me. I remembered how she looked in her backyard, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and the smug expression on her face. I remembered the instant that our friendship ended and that she hadn’t cried a single tear over the whole thing. I thought about how she spun from one success to another and never took the time to think about the knife she’d stabbed in my back. It was time to put the heavy artillery into action. Lauren deserved to pay. What I wanted for my life wasn’t important. Justice was on the line.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

T he theater was in the middle of what Terrace called downtown. The year I moved away, the city council had decided that what the downtown needed was a makeover. Although it was no more substantial than a Hollywood set, the downtown now resembled a quaint New England town with fancy lampposts and lots of brick and wood storefronts.

I was surprised the movie theater was still around. It was small, built in the 1950s. Most of the big blockbuster movies were shown at the multiplex that was near the mall. My grandma told me the theater tried showing art films for a while, but Terrace isn’t a town that is chock-full of people who go to see art films. Now it seemed to get by on showing second-run movies for cheap and, apparently, classic films on Tuesday nights. I had been looking forward to the movie all day. It was the cherry on top of an already almost perfect day.

Ms. H. posted the cast list outside the drama room first thing
that morning. I had meant to get there early, but one of my grandma’s friends had broken her hip the day before. Grandma had responded by pulling together a giant get-well basket that included tea, homemade muffins, a casserole, a few books, a couple of trashy magazines, and a card. She wanted me to drop it off at her friend’s house before school. The package weighed approximately the same amount as a small hatchback car. I ended up missing all the action, but I certainly heard about it.

Once Lauren saw the cast sheet, she ran into the bathroom and refused to leave. She had the role of Henry Higgins’s mother and—even better—was Brenda’s understudy. Apparently people were all gathered outside the bathroom because they could hear Lauren crying and kicking the stall doors. When the school counselor heard about the fit she went into the bathroom, but Lauren wouldn’t even talk to her. She stayed locked in a stall. Bailey and Kyla were called out of class to try and talk her down. They didn’t have any luck with her either so someone called her mom. Mrs. Wood showed up in one of her fancy power suits in under ten minutes. She marched down the hall with a snarl on her face that she may have thought looked like a smile. The counselor cleared the bathroom and Lauren and her mom had a discussion. Kyla told me that you could hear Lauren’s mom yelling from the hallway. Her mom was shouting at her to “pull it together” and “stop humiliating the whole family.”

Fifteen minutes later, Lauren came out with her face washed clean, wearing a brittle smile. By the time I saw her at lunch she
was insisting that she thought things had worked out for the best. Not having the lead would give her more time to focus on cheerleading—after all, she was the captain. You could almost believe her except for the fact that her face was completely frozen and her eyes looked a bit wide. She also kept giving a really high, loud laugh whenever anyone said anything, regardless of whether it was funny. She kept shooting glances over at Brenda, who was sitting surrounded by a bunch of the drama kids. Bailey and Kyla kept glancing at me behind Lauren’s back when she wasn’t paying attention. Kyla cocked one eyebrow, which I took as the universal sign for “whoa, look who’s taken a one way trip on the
woo-woo
train.”

I still hoped to see Lauren break down later in person, but she seemed to pull it more and more together as the day went on. I may not have liked her, but I had to give her credit. Lauren was a lot tougher than she looked.

I looked up at the marquee. For this week’s classic film they were showing
The Thin Man,
starring William Powell and Myrna Loy. I had seen it on TV a few times. A great detective story set in the 1920s full of high society, martinis, and fabulous outfits. I paid for a ticket and went into the lobby.

The refreshment stand had all the usual snacks, but they were also selling vintage candy that you don’t see anymore: Charleston Chews, Bottle Caps, Zagnuts, Necco Wafers, and Slo Pokes. Most of the people in the lineup seemed to be the senior set.
There wasn’t anyone my age to be seen unless you counted the harried-looking girl with a metal hoop through her left nostril who was running the refreshment stand.

I slipped into the back of the theater and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim lights. The movie was just starting and the light from the screen bounced off the faces of the people sitting there. The first face that I made out clearly was Christopher’s. I slipped down the row and sat next to him. We both looked up at the screen and not at each other. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes.

“Junior Mint?” He asked softly, shaking the box. I held my hand out, palm up, and he poured in a small pile of mints. He picked a mint out of my hand, and I could feel every nerve in my palm light up as his fingers touched me. When the mints were gone and my hand empty it seemed somehow right for him to fill it with his own hand. We held hands for the rest of the movie, and it was a good thing I had seen the movie before because I found it a bit difficult to concentrate. This was due in part to the proximity of Christopher and the fact that he was holding my hand, and in part to the elderly couple in front of who us kept whispering back and forth to each other. It appeared they shared one hearing aid. The elderly man spent the whole movie loudly whispering to his wife, “What did they just say?”

The only thing that would have made the night more perfect would have been if Lauren could have seen me with him. I loved old movies, but I almost wished we had gone to see something
newly released. That way there would have been a greater chance of someone seeing us together and word getting back to Lauren. It was unlikely anyone here was going to spill the beans to her unless her grandma was in the audience.

When the lights came up, Christopher didn’t rush to leave. He was a true film nut, the kind of person who wants to know every name on the lighting crew. When the final credit went by, we were the only people left in the theater.

“Have you seen the sequel?” he asked.

“
After the Thin Man
?”

“Creative titles weren’t their specialty back in the 30s.”

“As opposed to now, when we come up with the ever-unexpected
Spider-Man 2
,” I pointed out.

“Touché.” Christopher stood and began to lead us back out into the lobby. Everyone who worked at the theater nodded at him as we wove our way through. I had the sense he was a frequent visitor.

It was cold outside and Christopher let go of my hand to zip up his jacket. I stuck my hands in my pockets because it seemed sort of strange to let them just hang there in the freezing weather. Apparently, Terrace was skipping fall and moving directly into winter.

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” Christopher said.