Phantom (9 page)

The music was already starting. Before she knew it they were already back to the love scene between Christine and Raoul. But before she could step onto the stage for the duet, Justyn caught her arm.

“I’ll
never
give up, Becca.”

She couldn’t have responded even if he had waited long enough for her to find her tongue. Justyn let go of her arm, and took his place hiding behind a gargoyle statue while Rebecca joined Tom. He hadn’t really sounded angry, just determined. Yet, Rebecca couldn’t help but think that his words had sounded like a threat—a threat worthy of the phantom.

The love scene was a blur, but at least they made it through the whole song without any curtains falling on their heads to ruin the romance of the moment. Tom took advantage of the lack of disasters. His lips touched hers ever so gently as they came to the end of the ballad.

The moment should have been perfect. She waited for the butterflies in her stomach to start fluttering, waited for the lightheaded feeling. There should have been ecstasy after so many years of dreaming of this exact thing happening. But her mind was still on Justyn, worrying that she had hurt his feelings. And even more worried about the fact that he was standing just a few feet away, watching Tom kiss her, just as the phantom had watched Christine.

When Tom finally let her go, the look she saw on Justyn’s face was every bit as tormented as the phantom’s had been on the cold roof of the opera house when he realized he was losing his love to the gallant Raoul. As she and Tom moved to the sidelines, Justyn took center stage. That torment was echoed and magnified by the desperate, yet beautifully resonating tenor of the phantom.

“On my wings your song took flight.
But you betrayed me on this night.
Now as my hopes have been swept away,
So begins our real life play.”

He huddled on the ground, completely in character and beyond. From the sidelines, Tom and Rebecca sang the echoed words of the love song that drove the phantom to unimaginable acts of violence. Justyn captured the essence of that fury as he stood up and stared directly at Rebecca and Tom. The final words of the act seemed as if they weren’t just lines from the script, but a serious threat. A threat directed at them.

“This day a curse is on your head.
 This opera house will live in dread.”

 As the menacing words reverberated through the auditorium, Rebecca had to wonder just how much Justyn really had in common with the phantom. What was he really capable of?

Chapter Nine

The weekend was uneventful. Rebecca spent Friday and Saturday with Carmen and Debbie, watching movies, painting nails, and generally immersing themselves in all things feminine. It was a much-needed break from the raging testosterone she had been dealing with for the past week. On Sunday, she gave into self-indulgence and read a historical romance from cover to cover, then soaked for an hour in a warm bubble bath. Best of all, there were no phone calls or notes the entire weekend. When Monday finally arrived, she felt relaxed, revitalized, and ready to take on the world.

The school day went by just as smoothly as the weekend. Tom joined her for lunch, and they actually had their first normal conversation. Rebecca didn’t trip over her tongue once, and it only felt natural when they walked into rehearsal together with his arm draped across her shoulders. But the day had gone too well. It couldn’t possibly last forever. Especially not when Miss King was running late again, and Wendy and Justyn were both watching her and Tom with open hostility.

Rebecca wasn’t ready for the peace to end, even though it was inevitable. But it was the law of averages. All good things came to an end eventually. She did her best to avoid them both altogether, and tried to slip past them to join her friends on the other side of the stage. But Wendy was feeling especially belligerent, and stalked over to Rebecca, waving a piece of paper in her face.

“I suppose you think this is funny?” Wendy spat.

Rebecca had no idea what she was talking about and felt her mouth drop open in shocked surprise. She was glad when Carmen thought of a quick comeback because she certainly wasn’t thinking of any.

“If you’re talking about the possibility of you actually getting accepted to a four year college, then yeah, it’s hilarious.”

Wendy’s nostrils were flaring, but she ignored Carmen and continued to wave the note in Rebecca’s face. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you aren’t going to get away with threatening me like this.”

“What are you talking about, Wendy?” Tom demanded. “Becca didn’t do anything to you.”

“You think your new girlfriend is so perfect and sweet! Well look at this!” She thrust the wrinkled paper into Tom’s hands. “Go ahead, look at it! I found it this morning in my locker.”

Tom rolled his eyes but humored her, and tried to smooth out the crinkled paper enough to read it. He cleared his throat dramatically before reading it out loud so everyone could hear.

“‘
I tell you, daroga—mirrors can kill
.’” He paused for a minute, looking a little baffled. “Leave Becca alone unless you want to be just as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside.”

“You see?” Wendy screamed. “Do you see how she
threatened
me?”

“Wendy, I swear it wasn’t me!” Rebecca protested.

“Well, I don’t know who or what a ‘daroga’ is, but I certainly agree with the sentiment,” Carmen said as she crossed her arms. “If you’d just leave Becca alone, you’d have nothing to worry about.”

“Who
is
daroga?” Tom asked. “It sounds like it should be the name of a car model or something.”

“The first line of the note is a quote from the original
Phantom of the Opera
novel,” Rebecca explained. “Daroga was the name the phantom called his Persian policeman friend.”

“And what other loser but
you
would know any lines from some stupid book that was written like five hundred years ago.”

Rebecca could think of at least one other person. A person who dressed all in black and wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was listening to every word they were saying. But even if she wanted to share the information, Wendy wouldn’t have listened to her.

“It wasn’t Becca,” Debbie told her. “She got notes just like that one. They must be from the same person.”

“Of course
you’re
going to defend her! She’s the only person pathetic enough to actually be friends with an oversized nerd like you!”

Debbie’s head snapped back like she’d been slapped. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. As Rebecca watched her friend choke back a sob, she realized that she had finally had enough. It was one thing when Wendy was picking on her, but it was crossing the line when she attacked her friends. That was something even a quiet little mouse like Rebecca wasn’t going to stand for.

“Wendy, why don’t you just back off . . .” Tom began. Rebecca cut him off in mid-sentence.

“Wait, Tom. I can speak for myself.” Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest and took a few steps closer to Wendy, facing her down with more courage than she knew she was capable of. “I’ve put up with your crap for long enough, Wendy. The jibes. The looks. The nasty comments. Well, I’ve
had
it. It stops
now
.
I
got the role of Christine.
I
have the better voice. And
you
have been upstaged. Get over it and get on with your life. Being a bitch isn’t going to change things.”

Wendy looked like she might just have a conniption. Her face turned at least twelve different shades of red, and Rebecca was sure she could actually see the purple veins throbbing in her forehead. For the first time in the four years Rebecca had known her, Wendy Wright was struck speechless. But it was only a temporary condition. Again, Rebecca reminded herself that good things never last long.

Wendy snatched the piece of loose-leaf paper out of Tom’s hands, crumpled it up, and tossed it at Rebecca, aiming for her face. She missed, and it bounced harmlessly off her chest before falling onto the floor.

“This isn’t over, Becca. If you want a war, you’re going to get one.”

“Bring it on, honey.” Carmen insisted. Rebecca was tempted to slap her.

Wendy huffed, turned on her heel and stomped across the stage. Justyn snickered at her as she passed by him and it was more than she was willing to tolerate.

“What are you looking at, freak?”

“Ugliness incarnate,” Justyn replied.

He was suddenly straight-faced and very serious. Wendy gave him one last dirty look before joining a few of her friends from the chorus. She didn’t notice that Justyn continued to glare at her as she waited for rehearsal to begin. But Rebecca noticed, and it made her nervous.

“Wow, girl, I can’t believe the way you just stood up to Wendy!” Carmen exclaimed. “When did you go and get a backbone?”

“Everyone has a breaking point,” Debbie said. “Even Becca.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Rebecca told them. Now that it was over, she was kind of shocked herself. “I guess I went a little crazy for a second there.”

“You should go crazy more often.” Tom teased. “You’re kind of hot when you’re mad.”

Rebecca knew she was back to her old self when she felt her face flush with embarrassment. But she held her ground once rehearsal started and refused to let the daunting stares and nasty remarks of Wendy and her friends bother her. Miss King had no reason to doubt her casting that day. Rebecca performed flawlessly beside both Justyn and Tom. When it was time for Wendy’s main scene, she wondered if she would do half as well, and in uncharacteristically bad sportsmanship, almost hoped that she wouldn’t.

Rebecca watched from the sidelines, waiting patiently for the next scene in which she would have to join Wendy on the stage. It wasn’t a scene she was particularly looking forward to, but it appeared she would have at least a few moments of reprieve. Scene shifting was taking a little longer now that most of the props had arrived. The transition between the phantom’s lair and back to the main opera house was challenging because there were so many pieces involved. Dozens of people were running around behind the curtain, bumping into each other in the dim lighting, knocking things over, and cursing under their breath as they banged their shins and elbows. The whole fiasco was a maze of confusion. Things were finally getting under control and Wendy was ironically waving a phony note in Tom’s face as her character, Carlotta, accused Raoul of trying get rid of her so Christine could take her place.

She watched as Tom made his adamant denials and stalked off the stage, leaving Wendy alone to sing her solo with the two freshmen who played the managers of the opera house. She didn’t see where Tom went. Carmen and Debbie were also missing in action, and Rebecca found herself standing alone as she waited. Across the stage, she caught a brief glimpse of Justyn’s metal-toed boots. Soon, even they had vanished behind the curtain.

 Rebecca had the distinct feeling of being utterly alone, even though she was surrounded by dozens of people. The feeling was followed by an eerie sense of premonition that something horrible was about to happen. Her heart started racing for reasons she couldn’t explain. And her eyes darted nervously from one end of the auditorium to the other, finally resting disturbingly on Mr. Russ, who was lurking in the doorway just outside the hall. His one cataract plagued eye was oblique and almost glowing, even from the distance. Rebecca found herself stepping further back behind the curtains in the hopes that he wouldn’t see her. He had never really bothered her before, but lately there was something about Mr. Russ that she found extremely disturbing. And it was more than just his shady, disheveled appearance.

Back on the stage, the opera house managers were trying to console their star. Wendy was certainly dramatic enough. The role called for a bit of overacting and that was definitely her specialty. She stalked around the stage, flailing her arms like any self-respecting diva, as the managers begged and pleaded with her to perform. But as Wendy was heading toward her newly supplied dressing room table to feign preparations for that night’s gala, Rebecca noticed something thin and shiny along the floor of the stage. It was a long, thin line that sparkled under the spotlights. It would have been next to impossible to see almost anywhere else, but from Rebecca’s vantage point, it was clearly visible. She strained her eyes in an attempt to figure out what it was, and why it was there.

It all seemed harmless enough; probably just the binding from one of the prop boxes that someone had dropped. That explanation seemed unlikely when Rebecca realized that the line lead all the way back behind the curtains of the stage. And even more unlikely when, just as Wendy walked towards her dressing table, completely immersed in her song, the sparkling thread was jerked up and lifted several inches from the ground.

It all happened so quickly, there wasn’t any time for Rebecca to call out a warning. The glittering cord came up in the exact second that Wendy was walking by it. Her ankle caught around it, and she started to fall. There was nothing for her to grab hold of. The two freshmen saw her going down and both of them reached out to catch her, but it was too late. She stumbled forward, her chest slamming hard against the dressing table, knocking the breath out of her.