His Fair Lady (19 page)

“Um, hello? Gay boy. Seeing a bunch of naked college girls isn’t going to float my boat, honey.”

Knowing she would never win this one, Josie shook her head and started down the side aisle toward the backstage entrance with Kyle no more than two steps behind her.

“And you look like a goof in those sunglasses,” Josie said.

Kyle pushed the dark glasses up on his head and glared at her. “This is my bodyguard outfit. Deal with it.”

He lowered the glasses again.

She had to admit he did look good in his black jeans, black turtleneck, and black leather jacket with his blond hair gelled into spikes and his
GQ
stubble. Even the glasses sort of worked with the whole package. Though it was fun to tease him about the whole bodyguard thing, it touched her how protective he had been ever since she’d gotten that stupid note.

“Josie! Wait up.”

She knew before she turned around who was calling her name.

Mark hurried down the center aisle, then cut through a row of seats.

She wasn’t ready to talk to him; she would, just not yet. She’d had to duck into the ladies’ room after Autoethno that morning to avoid him. Now here he was.

“Go,” Kyle said and gave her a nudge.

“I need to talk to you.” Mark reached the end of the row and moved into the aisle.

“I think you’ve had your say, pal.” Kyle stepped in front of Josie and blocked Mark’s path.

“Kyle—”

Kyle spun on his heel. “No, Josie! You go get ready. You don’t have to listen to anything this jerk has to say, not until you’re ready. Now go. Oh, and break a leg.”

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss.

Heart pounding and pathetically grateful for Kyle’s intervention, Josie turned and ran up the stairs.

It didn’t matter what Mark thought he had to say to her. She couldn’t let it matter. She’d done what she had to do that morning in class, and now she had a show to do.

The usual chaos of the girls’ dressing room had reached fever pitch, like somebody had plugged in a volume control and turned it all the way up to ten. The ebb and flow of female voices had turned to crash and roar, punctuated by the occasional shriek of nervous laughter or blistering invective.

“Where the fuck is my hat?”

“Who took my hair spray?”

“Hey, watch what you’re doing with that curling iron!”

Josie imagined wrapping herself in a cocoon of tranquility and stepped into the fray. No one interfered with her as she made her way down the row of cubicles. In fact no one even seemed to see her until she passed behind Vi, who waved at her in the mirror as she worked on her makeup.

Josie waved back and started to say hi, then froze. Her cubicle was empty. Her costumes were gone. All of them.

You belong with the boys, you tranny freak!

“No,” Josie whispered. This couldn’t be happening, not again, not like this.

She flushed hot all over, then cold as her eyes filled with tears.

“Look out! Coming through. Move it! Move it! Move it!” Franny, the costume mistress, came charging through like a small freight train, her arms filled with clothes. She came to a halt beside Josie. She hung the costumes on the empty rack.

“Here you go, Josie. I’ll be right back with the rest of your stuff.”

Josie found she could breathe again. “Where were my costumes?”

Franny, who was already hurrying away, paused. “Hmm? Oh, after that thing with the flower girl dress, Kierra had me lock up all the costumes. A real pain in the ass, but at least nothing gets lost that way. Back in a minute.”

Franny bopped away, leaving Josie staring at her costumes. Someone touched her arm. She turned. It was Vi.

“Are you okay? You’re white as a ghost. That was really something, what you did in class this morning. I was going to tell you, but you ran out so fast.”

Josie gave herself a mental shake. She even managed to find a smile and paste it on.

“Thanks. I’m good. Just nervous, I guess.”

Vi nodded. “That’s pretty normal. Don’t worry. It’s all good. You’ll do fine. Want help with your costume?”

Josie said no, thanks, she was fine. She pretended to examine her dress for the first scene while she watched Vi return to the mirror and her makeup. Once she was sure no one was paying her any mind, Josie pulled the costume off its hanger, draped it over her arm, and hurried from the dressing room and into the small ladies’ room down the hall.

Josie closed herself in one of the two stalls then breathed a sigh of relief. After everything that had happened, she wanted more privacy for changing than the dressing room afforded with its curtained cubicles. She hung her costume on the hook on the back of the door and began unbuttoning her shirt.

Josie found her thoughts circling back to Mark. What did he think of her presentation? Would it change anything between them? Did she want it to?

Josie pulled the dress over her head and began doing up the buttons in the back.

The door to the ladies’ room opened, and someone came in.

Josie froze, then, calling herself ridiculous, continued with her buttons.

“Josie, are you in here?”

She recognized Brianna’s voice and felt herself relax. “In here. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Kierra’s looking for you. I think she’s got some last-second change in the blocking for the first scene.”

Damn. Josie twisted and stretched but couldn’t reach the two buttons in the very middle of her back no matter how she contorted herself.

“Brie, can you help me?”

Josie opened the door and stepped out.

Brianna met her eyes in the mirror and smiled. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I can’t reach these last two buttons. Can you get them?”

“Sure. Turn around.”

“Thanks,” Josie said and started for the door, then remembered she’d left her clothes in the stall. She stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Brianna asked.

“My clothes.”

“I’ll get them. Hurry up. Kierra’s waiting for you.”

Josie left the bathroom and started down the hall. She had reached the top of the stairs when she realized Brianna hadn’t said where Kierra was. Josie returned to the bathroom and pushed open the door.

Brianna stood at the sink, Josie’s jeans in one hand. With the other, she was stuffing something in the pocket. Her head jerked up, and she spun around.

“What are you doing?” Josie asked, though of course she knew or thought she knew.

“Nothing. I’m getting your clothes like I said.”

“What did you just stick in my pocket?”

“Just a piece of paper that fell on the floor when I went to fold up your pants.”

Once again Josie felt that hot-and-cold sensation all over her body, and with it a sick dread.

Don’t freak out.

There was no reason to freak out.

Josie advanced on Brianna and held out her hand.

“There wasn’t anything in my pockets when I came in here. Now, just give me my stuff.”

Brianna held on to Josie’s clothes. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“I’m not calling you anything. I just want my clothes, and we’ll forget about it. Okay?”

Brianna laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. You have a lot of nerve calling me a liar. But maybe it takes one to know one.”

In her head, Josie heard Kyle’s voice.
“If anything else happens…”

If she was going to the authorities, she needed that note. She was sure what she would find in her jeans pocket was another harassment note, and she needed it for evidence. But clearly Brianna was not going to give it up willingly.

“Fine,” Josie said and made as if to turn toward the door. In the mirror, she saw the other girl relax and let down her guard. Josie pivoted and lunged for her clothes, yanking them out of Brianna’s grip.

Brianna cried out and shoved Josie away. “Get away from me, you freak!”

Josie stumbled back, tripped over something, and felt herself falling. The back of her head connected with something hard; then everything went black.

* * * *

“Help! Help me! Oh my God, somebody please help!”

Mark heard the screams and calls for help as he came out of the guys’ dressing room.

Josie!
Mark broke into a run.

At the foot of the stairs leading to the girls’ dressing room, a crowd had gathered. Mark elbowed his way through but had his progress thwarted halfway up the spiral stairs by Nino the stage manager, who stood at the top like a traffic cop blocking the way.

“Get back! Get back! The ambulance has been called. There’s nothing to see. Go back to your dressing room!”

“Fuck that,” Mark muttered. Lowering his head, he bulldozed his way to the top of the stairs, stopping only when he got to Nino.

“Get out of here, Talleo. Everything’s under control.”

“Who got hurt?” Mark demanded, not giving an inch.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all—”

Mark stepped up the last riser and came chest to chest with Nino. He shoved his face in the stage manager’s face and snarled, “You tell me who got hurt, you fucking prick. Was it Josie?”

Nino stepped back and stammered, “I don’t know who— Hey, get back here!”

Mark ignored him and charged down the hallway to the open bathroom door. A clot of people blocked his way. Inside, a girl was sobbing, most of what she said unintelligible because of how hard she was crying.

He was too far away to see into the bathroom and not tall enough to see over everyone’s heads in front of him. He went into bulldozer mode again and powered his way to the front of the crowd. He saw Josie stretched out on the tile, and he saw Brianna. Brie was the one sobbing like her life was over. He had to get to Josie.

“Everyone move back! Paramedics coming through. Step back, please!”

Everyone fell back from the doorway, scattering as paramedics hustled down the hallway with a stretcher. Kierra followed them, her face white with strain, her lips set in a grim line.

Mark caught at her sleeve as she passed him. “Kierra, it’s Josie.”

“I know.” The director nodded. “Excuse me, Mark. I have to go with the ambulance people.”

Mark watched her go, feeling more helpless than ever before in his life. Then he remembered Kyle, who probably knew nothing about Josie getting hurt. Mark had no idea how he was going to find Josie’s roommate, only that he had to.

But finding Kyle proved shockingly easy when he nearly bowled Mark over as he emerged from backstage.

Kyle seized Mark by the lapels and lifted him to his toes. “What’s going on back there? I saw an ambulance and—”

“Josie’s hurt. They’ll be bringing her down soon probably.”

“What happened? What did you do?” Kyle shook him.

“I didn’t do anything. I didn’t see what happened. Stop it!” Mark tore free from Kyle’s grip.

“I have to get to her.” Kyle tried to push past Mark, who grabbed his arms and held him. He gave Kyle a hard shake.

“Stop it! Get a grip, man. They’re going to bring her out; then we can go to the hospital with her.”

Kyle blinked as if coming out of a fit. He poked Mark in the chest. “You can’t go. You’ve got a show to do.”

Chapter Fifteen

It was the longest and most difficult performance of Mark’s life.

As soon as the ambulance had gone, with Kyle riding along, Kierra called the cast together for a meeting. There had been an accident, she told them. Josie had slipped in the bathroom, fallen, and hit her head. Though she had been unconscious, she was coming around as the paramedics loaded her on the stretcher. No, she had no other details. Yes, Josie’s roommate accompanied her to the hospital and promised to call with an update as soon as possible.

Kierra studied their faces, each in turn, then she asked if they felt okay to go on with the performance. There was general agreement that, yes, they should go on with the performance.

Kierra nodded as if this was what she’d expected. Then came the question of who could play the part of Eliza.

Brianna had spoken up and said Vi knew the lines and the blocking, so she should take the part. Vi tried to demur but eventually admitted, yeah, she knew the lines and could fake her way through the blocking. That was all it took. The show was back on, and Mark was stuck at the theater, first running lines with his ex-girlfriend, then performing with her in the role that was meant for Josie. Those hours were pure hell.

The moment the curtain fell and he had taken his bows, Mark raced backstage, tore off his costume, and ran for his car with hardly a wave to his family, who was waiting for him in the back of the theater.

“Where’s the fire?” Chris called after him.

Mark paused, the door of the theater already open and one foot outside. “Josie got hurt. I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

He’d found out from Kierra which hospital Josie had been taken to, and once he was in his car, Mark drove like a speed demon to get there. Not knowing where else to go, he walked into the ER and up to the information desk. He gave the tired-looking woman behind the desk his best golly-gee smile.

“I’m looking for Josie Frazier. She came in a few hours ago. Is she still here?”

“Sorry, hon. I can’t give out information about a patient.”

“Can you at least tell me if she’s here?”

“Are you family?”

Mark saw his opportunity and seized it. “Yeah, she’s my sister.”

“She’s been admitted. They’ve moved her to a room.” She gave him the room number and called an orderly to take him up since it was after visiting hours.

“Down this hall, third door on the left.” The orderly pointed.

Mark thanked him, walked down to the doorway, and looked in. Kyle sat in a straight-back chair by the bed. He had his hand stuck through the guardrails, and he was holding Josie’s hand. His head leaned forward, his chin nearly to his chest, eyes at half-mast. As if he sensed Mark’s presence, his head snapped up, his eyes opening wide.

Mark moved as if to enter the room, but Kyle shook his head. Gently he disengaged his hand from Josie’s and walked silently to where Mark stood. Together they walked into the hall.

“How is she?” Aware of the late hour and the sleeping patients, Mark pitched his voice low.

“She’s going to be okay. How did you get up here?”