For the next few days, Erik would visit me and just hung out. On Wednesday, the night before rehearsals, Erik said to me while we sat on Grandma's porch, "You'll be kissing that Alexandre fellow, won't you?"
"It's acting, Erik, and we're just friends. Everyone there I kiss are just my friends. It's what it takes to bring your super awesome play to life. Deal with it," I said.
"He likes you, Avril," he said.
"I like him too," I replied. He looked a little shocked. "As a friend. A best, good friend. 'Cause that's what we are. Best friends." Erik gave me a look. I continued, "I know he likes me and he doesn't understand that I'm very interested in being best friends forever and nothing else. You, on the other hand, are something else. You know I'm your biggest fan and if anyone should be really excited that you're my boyfriend or something, it should be me." The look didn't leave his masked face. "Punjab lasso him and I'll Punjab lasso you."
"Avril, does it make any sense that someone who has been living the same age since 1855 can die by Punjab lasso?"
I shrugged. "In your 2004 movie, you might have died if Raoul stabbed you with a sword."
"Through the heart," Erik replied. "That may be how I could die. I've tried hanging myself, no such luck." He gave me a smile. "With you, I'll never do anything like that again."
I smiled back. "Neither will I."
We were doing really good as boyfriend and girlfriend.
On a Wednesday, main characters had to come to the community center to see the costumes. Erik told me that the owner of the Palais Garnier was going to let us perform there, but Frank didn't say anything. I was telling Grandma all about the costumes and reminding her that whether she and Alex liked it or not, we were just friends and they both had to deal with it. At around eight P.M., the phone rang while I was watching the 1925 version of The Phantom of the Operawith Grandma. She put it on speaker and answered, "Bonjour, unfamiliar number."
"Is this Annette Cormier?" a stern, familiar voice said.
"Oui, who's this?"
"This is Michell Emerson, principal of Guthrie High School in St. Cloud."
Grandma looked at me and saw my frightened face. I shook my head and she replied to that asshole Emerson, "And I should give a damn because…?"
"Because we know that Avril Hills is living with you and you did not sign her out of school like you're supposed to."
"Avril Hills? She's never been near me in years! She's not in Paris."
"Then, why did I see an article on the world news on CNN that a community theater in Paris will be performing The Phantom of the Opera at the Palais Garnier, starring American teen Avril Hills as Christine Daae?"
Our mouths dropped. It was really good to hear that I would be performing at the Palais Garnier, but it sucked to hear that he knew. Grandma replied nervously, "Well, Avril is a common name in Paris. It could be anyone."
"The article said, and I quote, 'Avril Hills, an American living with her grandmother Annette Cormier, 'earned the honor of playing Christine,' according to Marine du Pont, the choreographer.' That sounds like my student and if she doesn't come back before the summer, I'll see that you're in huge trouble."
I couldn't contain my anger any more. I shouted, "Listen close, you asshole, no one in your so-called award winning high school treated me right, so Avril's pretty glad to be gone. Stop calling us! We're not gonna do anything you say because you're an asshole!" I hung up the phone and cried. Grandma rubbed my back and said, "There, there, baby. They won't take you away from me."
I sniffled and replied, "Don't answer them again, Grandma. Please don't."
"I won't," she replied.
"I need some alone time," I sighed.
"Okay, Avril," Grandma said as I got up. "If you need anything, I'm right here."
I needed to see Erik. I wasn't feeling watched or anything, so I went to my room and hopped out the window to go to the Fifth Cellar of the Palais Garnier.