A/N: I'M NOT DEAD! I'M NOT DEAD! I am sooo sorry this has not been up for so long. It was a btch to write! Well...I won't waste your time with meaningless crap...READ THE STORY! And review! Thank you!
Oh, and thank you Saloma-Kiwi for all the
nice comments! I thought my story had been lost forever when you
reviewed. Thanks!
Sara M. was pissed. Really pissed. So pissed, in fact, that you could
practically see the anger and worry in her eyes (which doesn't occur
that often---I mean, how often can you see through someone's
EYES–wait...sidetracked. Back to the story now!) . Everyone she passed
gladly scooted out of her way; there were no misunderstandings between
any of them that she wouldn't trample them if they got in her way.
She had woken up that morning feeling fine–fresh as a goddamned daisy!–and it had taken awhile for her to fully register what Laurel's empty sleeping bag had meant. She wasn't too concerned at first, but after she had checked the bathrooms and Laurel was nowhere to be found, she actually began to worry. In desperation, she even checked the Makeup room (where all of the boys were sleeping), which was where she found herself at that moment, pushing through huddles of very shocked boys to find someone who would actually help her in her search.
Soon enough, she found a familiar tuft of blue hair sticking out from the corner of a sleeping bag. Sara reached down and yanked on it, and sure enough, a very disgruntled-looking Stu emerged.
"Ow!" he yelled, "Jesus Christ, David, what did you do that for, you know how sensitive my...scalp...is," he finished weakly, realizing who, exactly, was standing over him.
"Oh, I just KNEW how happy you'd be to see me," Sara said sarcastically. "Now come on, one of our own is missing."
"Missing? Ah, but of course you came to me, the gallant knight, to assist you on this great quest," Stu stated in as deep a voice as he could muster, standing up and putting his hands on his hips.
"Yeah yeah," Sara sighed, grabbing the crook in his elbow and pulling him through the room and out the door.
Stu stared at her with admiration. "Woah...forceful, are you?" Sara chose to ignore this.
Sara's frenzied search was beginning to attract attention, and several curious heads peeked out of their respective dressing rooms, including that of Phyllis, Andrea, Marissa, and others, all of whom immediately rushed out of their rooms and began following Stu and Sara, creating a good-sized train. Phyllis, being...well...Phyllis, was soon at the front of the line, interrogating Sara within an inch of her life.
"So, what's all this? Who are we looking for? Why do you look so pissed? What–"
Andrea soon broke in with questions of her own. "What's going on? Why does everyone look so agitated? WHY WON'T ANYONE TELL ME ANYTHING!"
Sara threw open the doors of the theatre building and stepped inside, scanning the room for any trace of her friend. She was beginning to give up home when, out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed a dark shape leaning against the back wall. Sara approached the huddled figure tentatively, somehow knowing who it was. "Laurel?" she asked softly, suddenly getting the feeling that now was not the time to be loud. The person looked up–it WAS Laurel, although she didn't look like herself at all. Her eyes were bloodshot and damp, her hair was slightly mussed, and she looked positively exhausted.
"What? Oh–Sara!" she said weakly, stumbling to her feet and wiping her eyes.
Now that Laurel was actually talking again, Sara's annoyance returned. "Where have you been?" she asked, raising her voice slightly, "We were worried about you–thought you'd been kidnapped or something!"
"You sound like my mother!" Laurel said, emitting a very forced laugh, which was met by silence. Laurel's thin facade began to crumble, as she looked nervously around at all of the people who were staring at her. "I–I was just in the bathroom," she said quietly, her voice cracking, "What's the big deal?"
Before Sara could respond to any of this, she was pushed aside by an exasperated-looking Phyllis, who promptly grabbed Laurel's arm and ushered her out of the theatre. As they walked out, Sara noticed something that she didn't catch before: over her nightgown, Laurel was wearing a large black jacket that was obviously too big for her. Where did that come from? Sara thought, suddenly becoming worried for her friend. She was going to have to talk to someone about this...but who?
And then it hit her. Phyllis! The only one of their group who had always seemed to know the most about what was going on at Drama Camp, the one who had looked the most alarmed when she had seen Laurel slumped and crying on the floor, the one who was always quiet and mysterious and maybe just a little paranoid–maybe she would know what was going on!
Before she had a chance to really think about what she was doing, Sara ran out of the theatre door nearest her, through the lobby, and out of Drama Camp campus, just in time to catch Phyllis heading to the parking lot. However, before she could even open her mouth to say anything, she hear someone behind her shout "Wait!"
All three of them–Phyllis, Sara and Laurel–spun around, only to find a very worried David running to catch up with them. Laurel began to go towards him, a strange look on her face, but was soon stopped by Phyllis, who said something (Sara could not quite make out what it was) that made Laurel stop cold.
"Laurel!" David exclaimed, coming towards Laurel. She stepped back. "Are you okay? You looked really scared back there. Do you want to–"
Before he could finish, Phyllis cut him off. "Laurel is going to go home," she said sharply. "She will see you on Monday." And with that, both of them headed towards Phyllis's car, which was parked a few feet away.
"No! Wait!" David cried, advancing towards them and causing Phyllis to turn around again, this time quite angry. "Let me talk to LAUREL, Phyllis."
You idiot! Sara thought, Just let them go! Anyone with brains could see that Laurel was...well, unstable, and that Phyllis was in a foul mood. In fact, she was beginning to doubt that David even had a brain at all.
Phyllis sighed. "David, I'm sure Laurel really doesn't need this right now. What she needs is to go home and rest, and right now, you are denying her of what she needs. Do you want to do that?" Phyllis slowly advanced towards David, near-murder in her eyes. She looked up at him menacingly, and Sara almost laughed at how intimidated David was becoming.
Laurel stepped forward, putting a hand on Phyllis shoulder and gently forcing her back. "Phyllis, really, it's okay. Let's just go." She looked at David for a moment, and Sara could see that Laurel really was sorry about the whole affair...whatever that happened to be.
Phyllis walked up to Sara, who had just been standing there, watching the scene unfold. "Will you tell my sister to get here, please?" Sara nodded and left, off to get Andrea. Maybe someday she would know what the heck just happened, but for now, ignorance was bliss.
---------------------------
After driving her sister and a near-hysterical Laurel home, Phyllis decided that she should see how her other friend was holding up. She hadn't been able to get much out of Laurel regarding what had happened, but from what she gathered, Laurel wasn't the only one who was hurt last night. So, once again, she found herself driving back to the playhouse, parking, running–no, walking briskly!–against the traffic of departing Drama-Campers to reach the theatre, walking through the twisty-turny passages that she now knew well, going up the steel ladder (which she had always hated), and finally stopping to catch her breath on the landing that stood before the door to the attic. Clutching her side, she knocked on the door three times and waited for him to open it. She stood there for a few seconds, but nothing happened. She knocked again. "Come on, it's Phyllis!" she cried, annoyed. Still nothing. She tried the doorknob–it was unlocked! With this in mind, she tried a new tactic. "If you do not open this door RIGHT NOW, I am going to come in there anyway!"
This time she got a response. "Go away," came a muffled cry from inside the attic.
Phyllis sighed. Well, she had warned him. Slowly, she turned the doorknob and opened the door, creeping inside. She soon saw him, sitting with his back to her on a stool in the corner. Carefully, she approached him. He soon sensed her presence and turned to her, and Phyllis could see that he had actually been crying. She reached out a hand, hoping to console him, but he withdrew from her.
"So, I see you've come to see the freak," he said bitterly, his voice cracking.
"You know I don't think of you that way," Phyllis said sternly. "I'm your friend. Come on, tell me what happened."
"It doesn't really matter, in the end," he said. "All that matters is that she hates me and never wants to see me again." He leaned and stared at the floor, rubbing his left arm with his other hand.
Phyllis took a few steps towards him. "I'm sure it's not all that bad," she said soothingly. "What exactly did you do?"
He looked up and glared at her, standing up. "Phyllis, I want you to leave."
"But this is important! Laurel is my friend too, and–"
He winced at the sound of her name. "Get out, Phyllis."
"But I–"
"GET OUT!" he roared, stalking off to the other end of the attic, behind a row of boxes that shielded him from sight.
Phyllis didn't need to be told again. She quickly turned around and headed right out that door, down the ladder and out of the playhouse. If only I was twenty-one, she thought. Then I could have a nice bottle of vodka and forget about all this.
Phyllis was going to have a lot to explain on Monday, especially if she didn't want Arielle to make this into the gossip of the summer. The only thing she was sure about, though, was that this was not the end. It couldn't be–her friend wasn't going to give up Laurel easily, especially to that little rat-of-a-boy David.
Oh no. This was only the beginning.
A\N: dun dun dun! Well, not the best chapter, but it's something! And no, you all are not going to find out what happened that night for awhile, because I am evil like that.
Although, I did put in some clues...
