The Truth About Fragile Things Read online

  I held out my hand, not looking to see who would grab it, knowing the hand wouldn’t fit right, wouldn’t be big enough to hold the nerves jumping through my palm. It was a loose grip that found me, tentative like a freshman afraid to touch me. When I glanced sideways trying to hide my disappointment, Braden’s grin met me and he tightened his grip. I imagined I could feel his pulse in the press of our palms. His fingers were strong. Like fingers that could coax music from steel strings. A girl from the prop crew took my other side, pressing her lips into a nervous smile before Schatz started speaking.

  “A circle of trust. A circle of work. A circle of dependency.” She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “Tonight, when one succeeds, we all succeed. If one is in trouble, we all rescue. Whatever relationship you have outside this circle, inside this circle it is mended and strengthened.” One of Braden’s fingers moved and I felt the shift like it was a chasm under my feet instead of a twitch against my hand. Schatz opened her eyes, intentionally ran them along our faces, stopping to meet each person’s eyes. “We wish the best for one another. We applaud one another. We embrace one another. Tonight we all give everything to bring magic and laughter into the lives of those who have come to support us. Tonight we all believe that anything is possible if we do it together. Tonight there are no feuds. There are only friends. From the sound techs to the costumes, to the lights and props and actors, we all play our role. Tonight we all shine.” She raised her arms, still gripping the hands of her neighbors.

  “Tonight we all shine,” we repeated together, our hands raised in unison, the sound rang against the walls and bounced back from the high, slanted ceiling. As hands slowly released and the circle morphed into milling bodies, Braden held on.

  “Good luck,” he said as he released me, but didn’t step away.

  I tried for something breezy. If only Lauren was there to help me be breezy. “You just cursed me. You’re supposed to tell me to break a leg. What kind of friend are you?” He only answered a steady smile and I didn’t know what to do with the silence so I tried again. “Are you going to light it up tonight?”

  He laughed. “You know it. I have to go turn down the houselights. We have five minutes,” he said, consulting his watch. He watched me fumble with a gold bracelet too big for my wrist. “Megan, when the spotlight hits you, that’s me.”

  He walked away too quickly to know he had left me without words.

  “Your fans await,” Charlotte’s hand pressed against my back, guided me to the door. We made it to the dark backstage where people started to lower their voices to whispers. More hands clipped my microphone into place, tugging it to test that it was secure. Callie straightened my blouse, faces appeared and melted away in the darkness. “I know you’ve done this before, but tonight it counts for the list. This one is for him,” Charlotte reminded me when we passed final inspections and were able to join Phillip in the wings.

  I’d never felt so off balance sixty seconds before the curtains lifted. Bright music started to march across the auditorium, pushing the audience into their seats, quieting the hum of conversation. Sophie tiptoed to the tacky sofa at the center of the stage, crossed her legs in the darkness and smoothed down her skirt, looking for the right expression as she pushed fear and self-consciousness and excitement from her face. The curtains swung with the first pull of the ropes, parted like oceans, and left her alone to begin our play. I went to grab Phillip’s hand but inches away from my goal realized it was occupied with Charlotte’s fingers. Her arm was pressed against his, like two trees that can’t fall as long as they prop up one another.

  “Here we go,” he whispered as Sophie cleared her throat theatrically and her microphone buzzed to life. “Hey Megan, if you’re into praying these days, you might want to start one now. It is standing room only out there.” Phillip sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. His butterflies are always worse on the nights he acts the best.

  I wiped my palm on my tweed skirt and looked to the ring of bright lights spilling from the rafters, over the staircase of the scenery and falling in puddles on the stage floor. The spotlight that always held me up when I stepped out there alone and anxious. I’d never once considered that for the past two years it had been Braden’s hand holding it steady. I placed my empty hand into my other palm. Sometimes you just have to hold onto yourself until someone else gets there.

  “That’s my sister!” Lauren launched herself through the crowd when I emerged into the bright, busy foyer. She didn’t modify her volume or movements to account for the bodies. She pounced on me, her feet dangling at my ankles and pushed me into my favorite girl on the sound crew. Her kiss landed on my hair before she released me, beaming and exultant. “You were awesome.”

  Curious eyes stopped to take in the show. There were kids who had never seen me mauled and seemed to thoroughly enjoy the prospect. My parents arrived by the time I peeled her off, and they handed me an armful of peach roses. As I flinched beneath the congratulations and compliments that batted through the air, hitting and deflecting off my sore shoulders, I noticed Doctor Dave’s smile across the hallway and through the crowd. His eyes wrinkled in happy recognition and he flashed me a thumbs-up high above his head. I returned a smile that was not about the play or the people or the night. It was just for him. For being a man who would come rescue Melissa and Charlotte, just like Bryon rescued me. And maybe the situation wasn’t as unfair as I imagined. Because watching the way Charlotte jerked away from his touch I realized that maybe his rescue mission was the harder one. Bryon’s cost him his life but took a moment. Dave’s would take every moment of his.

  I hid my baffled face by pressing my nose into the soft roses for a minute, torn between loving the excitement as every person around me gushed over their favorite lines and moments, and the desire to step outside into the cold night and point my face to the quiet stars. I felt a need to tell Bryon privately that this performance was my best yet and it belonged to him.

  When I turned I spotted Braden. He didn’t say anything, but I knew the smile he gave me was just like the one I gave Dave. It had nothing to do with a play. If I could skip over the awkward introductions, the years it takes me to know someone I would have asked him if he wanted to step outside with me and just look up. But people aren’t allowed to be that honest. Aren’t allowed to need anything that simple. He slipped away into the throng and the giant room grew dimmer and noisier, as if he carried light and stillness with him.

  When the commotion died down enough for me to make my escape, I retreated to the girl’s dressing room backstage and carefully placed my costume on the hanger labeled with my name. In the far corner, with the shadows wrapped around me, I held up the hanger and looked at the limp clothes, like a skin I had shed. I was supposed to check for tears or missing buttons or stains so all could be repaired before tomorrow’s show. Instead I watched the fabric ripple as I slid the hanger to the edge of the rack. The clothes looked dead, but still shining with some sort of glory from the night. Angel clothes.

  I ran one finger down the sleeve of the white blouse. The glow of the fabric in the lights reminded me of Charlotte’s smile when she plunged into the river, screaming with cold. I took my hand off the shirt, a small, surprised breath escaping my lips. In that moment I knew I wouldn’t need my costume for the next show. Tonight I had put it on for Bryon. And tomorrow I wouldn’t—for Bryon.

  CHAPTER 33

  I opened Schatz’s door and saw Braden leaned back in my plastic chair while he showed her a diagram of the sound system.

  “Oh,” popped out of my mouth before I could formulate a thought. He didn’t miss my fleeting, troubled expression; instead he glanced around as if checking to see if he was the cause of my confusion. I’d never realized how much I counted on people missing things until I spent time with someone who noticed everything. I readjusted my mouth into a fast smile. “Hi, Braden. Good job last night.”

  “Thanks. My physics teacher let me come down early to check some wires.
Do you mind if I sit in until my lunch starts?”

  “That’s great,” I forced out, wondering how I could possibly say what I needed to with him sitting right there. Schatz was almost too drunk on the echoes of applause to contribute to the conversation. She had the aura of a kitten who just discovered catnip. “I take it you’re pleased?” I asked primly, hiding my amusement.

  “Best opening night ever!” She smacked the table in front of me and let off a howling laugh. “Packed house, flawless crew. They were laughing so hard they couldn’t even hear you. Phillip turned it on last night.”

  I knew what she meant. We’d all been siphoning his energy from the moment the curtain lifted. Five minutes into the first act the audience knew our secret—we were having more fun than they were. And they ate it up. Which made it even harder to say the words that needed to be said now. I slipped my next sentence in light and fast, hoping she would believe me. “It was almost like we couldn’t mess it up if we tried.”

  “Braden, our wireless mics have never sounded so clear. I loved it.” She turned her praise to him without acknowledging what I said. I leaned back and listened for an opening, an opportunity to try again. Braden twisted the string of his hoodie between his calloused fingertips. I remembered his hand gripping mine, dry and warm and unfamiliar.

  “Why so quiet, my prima donna?” Schatz interrupted my thoughts.

  I snapped to attention, hoping they hadn’t noticed my staring. “No reason.” Something trembled in my ribs, alerted me that this could be my chance. I cleared my throat, slid my hand across my forehead. “Except, maybe I don’t feel well.”

  Schatz froze like I told her a meteor was about to collide with the earth. And that made me think of the falling stars. My fingers started to shiver and I knew it would spread to the rest of me in moments.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think I might be getting sick.” The lie burned a slow hole through my throat and I knew why they call liars the ones on fire. I swallowed against the rising smoke.

  All of her hazy happiness forgotten, Schatz leaned toward me like a wall cloud towering black on the horizon. “You look fine. What are you telling me? Don’t feel well as in emotions?” There was a horrible struggle in her face between hope and despair.

  “No. Like sick,” I choked out, certain puffs of black would curl out of my mouth.

  Her voice went higher with panic. “As in too sick to perform tonight?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know which one, but I’m going to be sick today or tomorrow.”

  Her steel blue eyes locked on mine and struggled there, our gazes wrestling for understanding. When I didn’t flinch, didn’t back down or explain, her eyes flickered with a horrible understanding.

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “My understudy can handle it.”

  I jumped when Braden’s cool hand brushed against my forehead. “You don’t feel warm. What’s wrong?” I was grateful for the chance to turn away from Schatz’s dismayed face, but flustered by his soft question.

  “I think I’m losing my voice.”

  “You sound fine,” he protested. “I’ve seen you go on when you could barely talk.” For a fleeting moment I wished he was Phil. I wished I could grab onto one of those hands and have the fingers brace me without a doubt or question or explanation.

  “I’m definitely going to be sick.” I didn’t try to pretend. No wheezing or small cough. If I did this I had to do it with her blessing and her understanding. “But I’ve taught Charlotte. I’ve shown her everything. She can do this.”

  Schatz tapped the table with her fingers, answers gathering in her face. I knew she would fight. I knew she might win. Which is why I had to use every weapon at my defense.

  “Please.” I held perfectly still, released the word like Noah’s dove, praying it would find a safe place to land.

  Schatz linked her hands together, coiling her fingers in an angry knot. “Did you plan this?”

  “Not at all,” I promised. “How could I? You cast us. But Bryon’s list…” I glanced at Braden, his face so confused it bordered on distress. “I realized last night it should be her.” I begged her to understand because I couldn’t say anything more in front of him.

  “Megan, if it were anyone else…” she threatened, standing up to take hasty, hard steps.

  “I know,” I told her. “I would never ask if I didn’t have to.”

  “You aren’t exactly asking.” Schatz’s chilly eyes blew cold through me. “Or are you?”

  “Not exactly,” I whispered. “There are so many things I can’t give her, but I’m the only one who can give her this.”

  Braden’s forehead twitched with the exertion of trying to understand our cryptic sentences. He looked down at the desk instead, lost in his own thoughts, his expression almost angry. I wanted to apologize to him but I didn’t know what for.

  “On your head be it,” Schatz concluded with an agitated shake of her head. “If you are not going to feel well tomorrow night, you better have your understudy prepped and ready. And don’t think I won’t remember this the next time I have to cast you.” That barb I didn’t expect.

  “What are you giving? What do you have to do? What does Charlotte have to do with it?” Braden moved back in his chair with a jarring sound of metal on the concrete floor but we ignored him and the sound.

  “On second thought,” Schatz continued, her voice slowing, brightening. “You will not feel sick tomorrow on closing night.”

  “I won’t?” I steeled myself to be more stubborn.

  “No. Now that I think of it, you look pale right now.”

  “She’s always pale,” Braden protested. ”She’s fine.”

  Schatz flicked his comment away like a fly. “You will be sick tonight and rest all day tomorrow and be better by closing night.” She lowered her eyebrows along with her voice, and leaned over me. “Am I understood?”

  “Yes,” I managed to say while suppressing the grateful smile building behind my lips.

  “This entire conversation makes no sense,” Braden interrupted under his breath. “How can you decide when to be sick? You’re not sick. You’re not any paler than usual. You’re not losing your voice.”

  “What conversation?” Schatz asked with a conspiratorial grin. “I didn’t hear anything. Did you, Megan?”

  “Silence is golden,” I agreed. And inside I sighed with relief because I knew that no matter how frustrated Braden was he would never insist on an explanation I didn’t want to give. I found enough courage to lay my fingers on his wrist, so close to the hand I wished I could take. “I’m sorry I can’t explain.”

  He didn’t move, his blue eyes narrowed, flecked with black to match his freckled skin. “I’m not telling anyone you’re sick.” It was the closest thing to defiance I’d ever seen from him.

  “You don’t have to. Just don’t say anything. Would it help if I promised you I really didn’t feel well?”

  His eyes flexed with pain while his finger strummed against an imaginary string in his hand, looking for music that wasn’t there. “I don’t like it,” he mumbled.

  I chewed the inside of my lip, biting back my thanks. Somehow I knew his anger wasn’t at being left out of the secret. It was from someone else stepping into my spotlight. He was defending me. My imagination jumped without warning to Phillip’s face. I wondered if he would mind at all.

  Schatz ran to the debate room to convince Mr. Rolands to cover her afternoon classes and sent me armed with excuse notes to collect Charlotte and Phillip and send them to the stage. They grumbled as I pulled them out of the lunchroom, but I refused to give any hints until we were all with Schatz.

  “What’s wrong?” Phillip asked as we climbed the side stairs and met Schatz where she stood with a grim frown by the sofa on the set.

  “Sit,” she commanded them as she paced to the banister and back again. After they obeyed she pointed at me marooned on center stage, nervous, and alone. “Megan has some news for all of us.” He
r sharp voice made me cower.

  She was going to make me say it myself. I cracked my mouth open, half convinced I truly had lost my voice. “The news is…” My words wandered through the empty, cavernous room, vibrated with my trembling nerves. For the first time Phillip’s eyebrows lowered in true concern and he leaned forward, worry across his face. “I don’t think I feel well enough to perform tonight. I need Charlotte to do it.”

  The only thing that moved was Charlotte’s mouth as the truth hit her and forced her to exhale. Schatz leaned against the stair railing, her arms crossed, her face stern and challenging. Phillip hadn’t processed the words yet. When he did a small croak came from his throat.

  Charlotte’s voice was cautious and distrusting, but it came from a mouth struggling against excitement. “What’s wrong? You’re not sick.”

  “This is your job. When I can’t go on you have to do it. And I can’t go on tonight. Schatz wants to run some scenes with you for an hour.”

  “Megan,” Phillip finally stood and approached me, “what are you doing?”

  “There really isn’t time to waste because Charlotte needs the practice so she won’t be nervous.” I forced myself not to look down, demanded courage.

  “Too late. I’m nervous.” She brushed her hands together, the news finally reaching her limbs, making them restless.

  “She’s not sick,” Phillip said to Charlotte without taking his eyes off me. I took a breath and turned my head to the side. Phillip looked over my head to Schatz. “She’s not sick,” he repeated.

  Schatz battled her own frustrations and cast a doubtful glance at Charlotte. “We don’t have time to waste on details,” she announced. “Can you two do this? Phillip, can you help her?”