Always Never Yours(32)
“What a change is here!” I jerk my head up, surprised by the unusual fire in Owen’s voice. “Is Rosaline, that thou didst love so dear, so soon forsaken? Young men’s love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.” Owen’s face is red, not in embarrassment this time, but in what looks like genuine anger.
He’s really busting Romeo’s balls, I think before Jody waves her hand and steps onto the stage. Even when Owen drops his script to his side, he’s glaring at Romeo. Or maybe it’s Tyler.
“Tell me about your interpretation here, Owen,” Jody says, pen to her lips. “Why did you read Friar Lawrence that way?”
“Romeo’s a jerk, honestly,” Owen grimly replies. “Friar Lawrence criticizes him for being thoughtless and disloyal to the girl he was in love with two days ago, and he’s right.”
Jody considers for a moment. “That’s a good reading, but Friar Lawrence is a friar, a man of the cloth. He wouldn’t come on quite that strong.” Owen grudgingly nods, and Jody tells them to take it from the top.
They begin the scene again, and I watch closer this time, intrigued now. Owen tempers his voice, but I know him well enough to detect the concealed anger in his rigid posture and his clenched jaw. He’s pissed at Tyler . . . for what he said today, I realize. For me. I feel a rush of gratitude. Even if I’m only doing this play for an acting credit, I’m glad it’s brought Owen and me together.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Will stop in front of the window in the drama room door. He makes no move to come in, and I consider incurring Jody’s wrath to cross the stage and drag him in here. Then he laughs, and I realize he’s talking to someone. He takes a step to the side, revealing Alyssa right at the moment she’s not-so-casually reaching out to touch his arm.
“Wast thou with Rosaline?” I hear Owen say from the stage.
“With Rosaline, my ghostly Father? No. I have forgot that name and that name’s woe,” Tyler replies.
It’s happening again, I realize, watching Alyssa laugh uncomfortably close to Will. He and I didn’t even get to define our relationship before it began falling apart. First the groupies at Derek’s party, now this. I wish I could ignore it and return to my script, but for some masochistic reason, my eyes linger on them in the hall.
Whatever Will and I are, we won’t be much longer.
* * *
I walk out of rehearsal an hour later determined to find Will. He never came inside, and even though we’d planned to meet afterward, he’s not waiting in the hall like he was yesterday. Figuring he might be working on the set in the woodshop, I round the corner and nearly collide with a red-haired someone.
“Megan,” Madeleine says, and places a hand on my shoulder to steady me. “Hey, I’m sorry about lunch today.” I hear guilt in her voice.
“Oh, uh—it’s fine, really. Have you seen Will?” I move to step past her. Tyler and lunch feel distant now, and it’s not like what he said is Madeleine’s fault.
But Madeleine doesn’t release my shoulder. “No, it’s not fine. What he said was not okay. I have half a mind to break up with him for it.”
That stops me. I’m not Tyler’s biggest fan, but I wouldn’t want to come between him and Madeleine. I look right into her contrite expression. “You guys can’t break up. You’re perfect together,” I say gently.
Her eyes soften. “It doesn’t give him the right to dump on my best friend. I’m going to talk to him.”
“Only if you want to. Owen already laid into him during rehearsal. Don’t feel like you have to withhold sex from him or something.”
I’m expecting her widened eyes and scandalized smile. “Megan!”
“Never mind,” I tease, “I know you couldn’t hold out for long anyway.” She tries to swat me, but I dodge and spin out of her reach to continue down the hall. “I have to find Will,” I call over my shoulder.
“Hey, what are you doing the Saturday after next?” I hear behind me.
I turn to face her. “I don’t know. Why?”
“I’m organizing a tree-planting day,” she begins. Madeleine’s not content to restrict her volunteerism to school days. Since sophomore year, she’s spent weekends working with something called the Oregon Forester Society, planting trees and holding Earth Day fairs. The sick thing is, I don’t even think she does it for college. I think she enjoys it. “I wondered if you wanted to come and hang out?” she continues. “I know I’ve spent a lot of time with Tyler, and I miss you. It’ll be time for just us.”
“And some freshly planted trees,” I shoot back with a grin.
“It’ll be fun! Promise.”
Madeleine’s never invited me to one of her community service projects, probably because she rightly knows digging holes in the forest isn’t my thing. But time with my best friend is. “Of course I’ll go.”
I turn to continue my search for Will, but then I pause. I’ll see him tomorrow. Besides, the idea of finding him in the woodshop or pulling him into the art closet suddenly doesn’t seem quite so important.
ELEVEN
FRIAR LAWRENCE: They stumble that run fast.