Epic Escape (8 page)

“That flavor on your mouthpiece?” Chase said, “It’s loser. She’ll never date you if you don’t block.” Chase stepped back and clapped his hands. “Break.”

“Pyramid!” The head cheerleader put her fingertips together and pointed her elbows in the shape of a triangle. Veronica and Megan looked at each other and took a step back. The mascot and two girls behind them jostled forward, propelling them into the cheer huddle. The head cheerleader pushed Veronica’s shoulders down and put her left shoe on Veronica’s leg. She swung her right foot up, digging the sole of her shoe into Megan’s thigh, and climbed.

Hands tightened around Megan’s waist and shoved her up one level. Megan reached out to steady herself, but found only air. She dropped a hand onto someone’s head, and paused to brace herself against the wiry hair, trying to keep her balance. Once steadied, she retracted her hand, pulling back with surprise. Sticky clip-on cheer curls clung to her fingers. She tossed the hairpiece down to Veronica. Veronica wrinkled her nose and threw the curls behind her. Catch and release.

A hand grabbed Megan’s shoe, forcing her to a level higher. From this height, she could feel the breeze on her face and smell the popcorn coming from the stands. For a brief moment, she smiled and enjoyed the height, the electricity of crowd, the thrill of the formation.

Male fingers rubbed across her butt. Megan kicked out at the male cheerleader’s wrist. Arms wobbled, but held. The groper had upturned the hem of her cheer skirt. She reached down to straighten it.

The pyramid fell amid grunts, curses, and a whole lot of negativity for a cheer squad.

T
he players took their positions. Chase threw. The rough edges of the football had barely left his fingertips, before he was tackled by the other team’s defense. Heavy weight, fresh mowed grass, sweaty guys. He shoved out an elbow and pulled up.

Number 23 caught the pass, hesitated, ran a yard, and got tackled short of the end zone. Third down. A large end zone clock warned them that little time remained.

The Coach yelled and gestured wildly from the sidelines. “Sixteen, you’re out!” The Coach shoved Riley toward the field. Riley stood his ground.

From the sidelines, Veronica shoved a pompom at Megan and cheered, “Let’s go Riley, take ‘em out, get us out.”
Clap, clap.

The other cheerleaders picked up the chant and propelled by the cheers, Riley went from reluctant watcher to reluctant member of the huddle.

Chase said, “I’ll get you the ball. Just take it in those last feet.”

“Chase--” Riley said.

Number 50 lifted his fingers toward his mouthpiece. Chase reached over and slapped his hand down before it got there, and grabbed Riley’s jersey. “We have to score. You’re doing this.” He shook the jersey. “I know you like to hit people.”

Riley nodded.

“Break.”

The team settled into formation. The ball hiked into Chase’s hands. He spotted an opening and started through. A guy on the defense reached for him. Chase evaded him and lunged, scanning the field for Riley.

The opposing player slammed into him and the ball popped up. Riley caught the football and ran through the end zone.

Score.

The clock showed zeroes.

The cheerleaders tumbled onto the field to join the celebrating players. Hugging. Laughing. Veronica tossed her arms around Riley. The guy cheerleader grabbed at Megan. Megan dodged his grope. Another cheerleader clung to Chase in a victory hug.

The fired-up crowd pushed them through the goal posts and into the home team’s dark entry tunnel.

T
he tunnel was dark and full of celebrating teens one moment, then quiet and darker the next. Lights blinked and Megan found herself in a black room with black walls surrounded by cables--the backstage of a large performing arts venue. White walls and white floors meant psychiatric lockup. What did black walls and black floors say about theatre people?

Chase and Riley examined the cables, rather, Chase watched as Riley tried to climb one of them, and Veronica pulled Megan aside. “I’m not wearing glitter, am I?”

“Yeah, those were good times,” Megan said, glad they wore their own clothes again. Veronica didn’t laugh, and she seemed tense, as tense as when they had first seen the cabin. “What’s wrong?”

“I was reading the clues when the pyramid fell, and I don’t know where the tickets went.”

Her heart thudded, she stifled a gasp and glanced at the guys to make sure they hadn’t heard. “Both tickets? You lost both tickets?”

Veronica nodded.

OMG. Megan checked again to make sure no one was looking. “Don’t tell the guys.”

Veronica nodded harder in agreement.

A thin man dressed in black from head to toe scurried around them, adjusting equipment at the orders of a commanding woman. The woman rose from a folding chair that read
director
and shoved scripts at Veronica and Riley.

“Despair. Why must you cause me despair? Learn your lines! If you go out there and forget in front of thousands, I will be so embarrassed.”

Veronica’s eyes got big. Riley quirked one eyebrow.

The Director turned to Megan and thrust a gown at her. “And you, tighten down those threads. If she--” The Director jabbed a finger at Veronica, “has a wardrobe malfunction, I will be
so
embarrassed.” Veronica covered her chest with her hands.

The Director said, “My soul, my soul for a cappuccino, no cappuccino, no Director. Do you people understand? No cappuccino, no Director. I cannot quench my thirst with despair alone.”

Chase tapped on the shoulder of the skinny stagehand. “Excuse me.”

The stagehand straightened and arched an eyebrow. “Well hello handsome, whatever you desire, you have only to ask.”

“Yeah, can you show us to the dressing rooms?” Chase asked.

“All of you or just you and me?”

Chase took Megan’s hand. “All of us.”

His fingers felt big, warm, and safe. She wanted to leave her hand there forever.

The stagehand shrugged and pouted, but he led them to a small dressing room. Chase threw himself along the sofa and patted a spot beside him. She joined him, breathing in the fragrance of the floral arrangements on the counter and the cosmetics under Hollywood lights. An electric feeling ran through her veins, to be so close to Chase. What would he do if she leaned on him, or if she followed that magazine’s advice and started talking about kissing? Did she still smell like apple pie? Megan scooted an inch closer and peered up at Chase, trying to capture his teal gaze.

Chase said, “I think this one’s on Riley and Veronica. Let’s hear it Riley, let me guess, you won’t play?”

Riley slumped against the wall and rubbed his hand across his face. “I’ll do it. The universe is not happy unless I am humiliating myself. So tonight, I tread the boards.”

“And end that Director’s despair,” Chase said.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “Read lines with me. There’s only two pages.” She crossed her fingers. “Maybe this time we’ll get to go home.”

Riley looked over her shoulder at the script. “Oh.”

T
he usher swept at the mass of popcorn, forming the pile into a neat square. Kneeling, he swept just enough onto the dustpan to have a full scoop but not so much that the kernels fell over the edge. He dumped the filth into the trashcan. Kneeling hurt his aching joints, but each emptied pan eased the tension in his shoulders.

Sweep. Scoop. Dump. Sweep. Scoop. Dump. He breathed in the salty familiar smell, and something heavier entered his nostrils, a greasy heavy scent: a cooked smell.

He ascended the stairs using his hands and feet like a spider, so he could keep his eyes low. When he spotted the mess, his heart raced. Stray pieces of chicken bone scattered under a seat, like a sacrifice without a holy purpose.

Fingers tensing, he ran for the bleach.

Those kids will suffer.

T
he floor was hard under her knees as Megan kneeled before Veronica, threading a ribbon through the edge of her costume. The gown was fabulous.

She rose and tied up the laces along Veronica’s back.

Riley’s costume was great too: a black tuxedo. He looked quite handsome and hadn’t hit anyone in ages. This was her favorite stop so far, and since things were going so well, maybe this was it.

Nearby, the stagehand escorted a group of elegantly dressed patrons through the back-stage area. One of the females paused by Chase, licked her lips, and said, “Join us?”

Megan stared. What would he do? Her stomach tightened.
Tell her no.

Chase left. Megan yanked at the ribbon, wanting to call him back for a million reasons, but she didn’t. She tied off the bow and peeped around the curtain. He had taken a seat in their box and accepted a glass of champagne. The toast tasted bitter from here.

The Director clapped her hands. “Curtains, everyone!”

Riley, in character, leaned against a fake front door. On the other side, Veronica stood in a fake living room. “I know she’s in there,” Riley sang in character.

At the first line, Megan had to cover her mouth to stop the giggle. They had to sing their lines.

“He loves me,” Veronica sang, making Megan wince.

“She betrayed me,” Riley sang, and Megan felt her eyebrows raise. Riley possessed a truly amazing voice.

“He loves me. I bet he brought me something shiny.”

Veronica, not so much.

Riley held a bottle of wine and a stage knife. “I have something to show her.”

Hand in the air, Veronica wiggled her left ring finger. “Something that sparkles.”

Riley flicked a gaze between the bottle of wine and the knife. “Or maybe poison, like she poisoned my love.”

Veronica put her hand to her lips. “I can’t wait to see him!” Riley rang the doorbell and tucked the knife into his pocket. Veronica opened the door. “May I pour you a glass?”

“Why yes.”

Veronica walked to a side table to open the wine. Riley removed his knife and stretched out his arm. The blade touched the back of her dress and sliced a ribbon. Veronica turned. “Why, thank you.” She took the knife and pried at the cork.

Riley, in character, looked confused and sang in an aside to the audience, “Why does she act so innocent?” The top of Veronica’s gown slipped over her shoulders and sagged down her arm.

Peep show imminent.

M
egan hesitated, took off her navy jacket and ran on stage to cover Veronica. Six steps in, she froze. Bright lights, hundreds of staring eyes. Her hands fell to her sides and her blazer brushed her legs, reminding her of why she ran on stage in the middle of the performance. Megan improvised. “Uh. So you won’t get chilly, madam.” She bowed her way off the stage wearing her maroon camisole. She sucked in a breath, cheeks on fire. When she reached backstage, the director hit her with a script.
Smack.
The swat was well-deserved so she didn’t protest.

On stage, Riley grabbed the bottle of red wine. The wine splashed on Veronica and covered Megan’s jacket.
Why are these horrible things happening to my clothes?
A hand tugged on the hem of her camisole, and Megan turned.

Chase.

“I like this.”

Chase stepped close enough she could smell the champagne on his breath. Her focus narrowed to him, bright in the dark. The curtain fell and the darkness deepened, surrounding them.

T
he curtains opened, revealing their high school cafeteria. The daytime air smelled like fried food.
Home.
Relief washed over Megan and all her muscles relaxed. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until this moment, until she let go.

Veronica grabbed her in a hug. “We’re home! Thank God. My parents must’ve been so worried.”

“Mine too.”

Chase shrugged. “My Dad went out of town. I didn’t really need to come back until Monday. What’s--” He hesitated and looked around. “I don’t recognize any of these guys.”

“Who cares?” Veronica grinned.

One kid seated at a nearby table sprouted fairy wings, shrank in size, and flew over to another table.

Everything in her froze, a new tension locking her muscles, stilling the blood in her veins. Even her heart stopped. “Oh.”

The fairy flitted around the head of one of the students like a persistent gnat. The teen swung his hand at it. The fairy persisted, so the teen opened his mouth, sprouted vampire fangs, and snapped at the fairy. The fairy backed off.

“This isn’t home,” Riley said. He held out a hand to Veronica. “What do the tickets say?”