T he next day I couldn’t talk to Brenda until rehearsal. She hadn’t been in school all afternoon because of a dentist appointment. When I found her she was fiddling with one of the prop doors that kept sticking.
“Hey,” I said.
“Do you know what we can do with this? I’m worried I’m going to end up stuck on the wrong side and miss a cue.”
“I’ll add it to the list for Ms. H.” I looked around to see if we were alone. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Sure,” Brenda said, opening and closing the door, trying to wear it down. “About the door?”
“No, ignore the door for a minute. You were right about the revenge thing. It’s time to let it go.”
Brenda looked at me for a second and then threw her arms around me as if I had announced that I had discovered a cure for Ebola during the only biology class she missed all year. “That’s fantastic. What changed your mind?”
“All right, people, let’s take our marks. We’ve got a lot to get through this afternoon. Let’s start at the top of act two,” Ms. Herbaut called out, interrupting our discussion. “Brenda? We need you.”
Brenda looked at me and then over at the stage.
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it later.”
Brenda skipped onto the stage and gave me a big smile.
“What is she, your girlfriend?”
I turned around to see Lauren standing there with her trademark smirk.
“She’s my friend.”
“Brenda Bauer? Brenda the space cadet?” She laughed. “Nice choice.”
“Thanks. I thought so,” I said. Lauren’s face looked pinched like she had been chewing on a movie-size container of Sour Patch Kids. I looked at her and realized I felt nothing. “Excuse me,” I said as I stepped past her.
I jumped off the stage on my way to my seat and saw Christopher standing at the back, setting up a video camera. I didn’t know if I should say anything to him or act like I didn’t see him, but before I could decide he raised a hand in greeting. I walked over.
“I’m doing some shots today of the rehearsal, but I wanted to know when I could meet with you. I haven’t interviewed you for my film yet.”
“You’re part of the show, aren’t you?”
“You know what? I am.”
“All right. Can I call you later?”
“You bet,” I stood there looking at him. I found it impossible not to smile. I was sure it would work out between us now that I had gotten rid of Lauren in the middle. Finally I shook my clipboard. “Time to get down to work,” I said as if he were trying to keep me from it.
I sat down and chewed on the end of my pen. In theory I was supposed to be making a list of to-do items for Ms. H., but instead I tried to figure out if I could calculate how close Christopher was behind me without looking around. I was pretty sure Brenda would help me figure out a way to explain to him the whole alternate persona thing, one of the many benefits of having a smart friend. It was time to go back to being Helen. I looked at the script. The scene called for Eliza to pass through the flower market. I wrote down plastic flowers on the top of my list.
“Claire?”
I spun around and realized that Ms. Herbaut must have called my name more than once. She sounded annoyed and everyone was looking at me.
“Claire, can you come down here? I need your help.”
I hustled down the aisle to join everyone on the stage. Lauren smirked at me.
“Forget your name?” she asked, and a few people laughed.
“Sorry, I was thinking of something else.” I waited for the flush of anger I usually felt when Lauren pulled her condescending act, but I didn’t care.
“Can you tape out where everyone is standing at the beginning of the scene?” Ms. Herbaut asked.
“Can you start with me, please?” Lauren asked. “I can’t stand here all day, I’m supposed to run through one of the songs again with Rubin.” Lauren motioned to the orchestra pit where Rubin was filling in as pianist for practices. He jumped when he heard his name, and I could see his giant Adam’s apple bopping up and down.
“I can wait, Lauren,” he said, his voice slightly cracking.
“Well, I don’t want to wait,” she snapped.
I bent down and taped an X on the floor where it met the tip of Lauren’s shoe.
“There you go. You’re free,” I said. Our eyes met and she looked at me slightly confused.
“Actually, Miss Wood, I need to see you briefly,” a voice said from the rear of the auditorium. It was Principal LaPoint.
“Me?” Lauren asked, pointing to herself. Everyone in the auditorium looked back and forth between Lauren and Mr. LaPoint. Lauren was not the typical student called into his office.
“Yes. Please bring your bag and come with me.”
“I can’t go now; we’re in the middle of practice.”
The vein in Mr. LaPoint’s forehead began to pulse. People didn’t tell him no very often.
“I’ve already called your mother. I think it would be better if we had this discussion in my office.”
Lauren stomped her foot down. “Can’t this wait? I’ve got to leave here and go straight to cheerleading. What’s the big deal?”
“Miss Wood, I think we should discuss this in my office.”
“Discuss what?”
“You’ve been accused of possessing drugs, Miss Wood,” Mr. LaPoint spat out. My stomach fell into my shoes. Oh shit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. If Mr. LaPoint had been expecting Lauren to cower in fright, he was wrong. She looked at him and laughed. Of course she had no idea what was coming. I didn’t feel like laughing at all.
“You’re joking,” she said.
“I’m not joking. Now, if you will come with me.”
“I don’t do drugs,” Lauren said with a toss of her hair.
“Then you don’t mind if I search your bag?”
“No.”
“Lauren, maybe you should wait until your mom gets here,” Ms. Herbaut said.
“It’s no big deal. This is obviously a mistake.”
Lauren jumped off the stage and walked to the side of the auditorium where everyone had dumped their bags and coats on the floor. She pulled out her giant black leather tote. I wanted to stop what I knew was going to happen, but short of pulling a fire alarm I couldn’t think of anything to do.
“If you look through my bag, then I’m free to go, right?” She handed Mr. LaPoint her tote and tossed her hair. “I’m assuming a strip search won’t be required.”
Someone in the front rows snickered and Mr. LaPoint looked over, his gaze freezing everyone into silence. He walked over to the table at the front and placed the bag down as if he were about to start a tricky medical procedure. He unzipped various pockets and stacked Lauren’s things on the table: pens, three different shades of lipstick, a small notebook, her iPod, a roll of wintergreen Life Savers, some nail polish, a stack of Kleenex folded into fours.
Lauren stood watching him, her hip cocked out to the side looking bored. The rest of the cast and crew didn’t even pretend to ignore what was going on. They jockeyed for position to see what would happen. I could see Brenda standing near the back, and she looked as nervous as if she were the one in trouble instead of Lauren.
“Satisfied?” Lauren asked in a voice that implied she would have her daddy’s lawyer down to the school first thing in the morning to bring charges against Mr. LaPoint.
For a second I thought it might work out okay, that he wouldn’t see it. That however this had gotten screwed up would work itself back out. Then he found it, buried deep in the front pocket: a tin of Altoids. He popped the tin open and then smiled. Lauren’s brow furrowed. He turned the tin and there, nestled in the paper were two joints.
The cast and crew let out an appreciative ooh for a trick well done. The blood dropped out of Lauren’s face. I felt like I wanted to throw up.
“That isn’t mine,” she said.
“That’s what I tell my folks too when they catch me!” yelled out one of the guys in the chorus, and everyone started laughing.
“Miss Wood, if you’ll come with me.” Mr. LaPoint reached for her elbow and she yanked it away. Lauren’s lower lip started to shake. Any drug offenses were an automatic dismissal from the cheerleading squad. Not to mention what her mom and dad were going to say. I froze when I saw Brenda. She was looking at me in shock.
“They’re not mine,” Lauren said again, even louder.
Mr. LaPoint reached for her again, this time taking her by the forearm. Once he had a hold on her she crumpled. It was like every bone in her body turned to water and she collapsed to the floor.
“NO!” She yelled out. Ms. Herbaut stood up and moved forward, but it was clear she didn’t know what to do.
“Please come with me, Miss Wood,” Mr. LaPoint repeated.
Lauren didn’t say anything. She just began to cry. Mr. LaPoint took her elbow and lifted her to her feet. He half carried and half led her out of the auditorium, her handbag stuffed under his arm. He gave Ms. Herbaut a stiff nod as he walked out the door. The room erupted with everyone talking to everyone else.
I turned around and realized that Christopher had caught the whole thing on film.
“Okay, everyone quiet down,” Ms. Herbaut said, raising her voice over the din. “Everyone give it a rest. We’re going to move on with practice.” She flipped through the script at random. “Casey, let’s run through your scene.”
Casey, a shy-looking sophomore, went on stage while everyone else dropped their voices back down to a murmur.
“I can honestly say I didn’t see that coming,” Ms. Herbaut whispered to me.
Brenda was standing at the edge of the stage looking at me. She shook her head before turning around and walking away.
“Me neither,” I mumbled. This was only half true. I can’t say it was totally unexpected. I knew how the joints got in her purse; I’d put them there a few days ago during lunch. The question was, who called Mr. LaPoint and turned her in?