The Form of Things Unknown

  * * *

  I wake up in a bed in the hospital. Dad is talking on the phone to someone. “I need to let you go. She just woke up. Natalie? Thank God.”

  I don’t want to face him. I hate that I ended up here, through my own stupidity. Again.

  “Nat, your mom is on her way.”

  “What? No! What about Grandma?”

  “David is headed to the house. He said to tell you to hang in there. The doctor says you should be able to come home tonight. If your EKG is normal and your labs look better.”

  I look down and realize I’ve been poked again and now have electrode stickers all over my chest. The fact that I don’t remember people doing any of this to me is frightening. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  “Oh Nat,” Dad says, sighing. “Do you know how dangerous this was? People die from heat stroke. Especially when they’re on medication like you.”

  I can’t stop the tears that well up in my eyes. Angry tears. And scared tears. “I’m going to be okay?”

  My dad takes my hand. His fingers are cold, like he’s been holding on to a soft drink bottle. “We don’t think it actually was heat stroke. Just a severe case of heat exhaustion. So there shouldn’t be any long-term damage to your organs.” The pain in his eyes kills me.

  “I promise it won’t happen again,” I sob. “I’ll do better.”

  The curtain is torn back and suddenly Mom is here, pushing Dad to the side. “Natalie!” She pulls me into her arms, squeezing me tight. She is sobbing, too. I’m a terrible daughter for putting them through this.

  A nurse comes in and hangs a new bag of IV fluids. Dad says they want to check my blood again after this bag is infused and then they will see whether or not I can go home.

  Dad comes around to the other side of my bed, leaning down and kissing my forehead. “Okay, kiddo. I’m going back over to Trauma now that your mom is here. I’ll be back in a little bit, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Mom pulls the chair up closer to the bed and sits down. She sighs, and I know I’m going to get a lecture now.

  “What happened?” she asks.

  “I messed up. I’m sorry.”

  “Were you even trying to be careful?”

  “I meant to. I was trying to. But I was trying to have fun, too, and I can’t be thinking about my meds all the time.”

  “Oh Nat. Do you know how serious this is? You can’t just hang out at the pool all day with your friends anymore. Not like before.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” I can’t help but apologize. Over and over.

  She stares at me, her lips pressed tight together.

  “And I’m sorry you had to leave Grandma. Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Our neighbor Susan is sitting with her until David can get there. You know he’ll probably tear you a new one when he sees you.”

  “Mom!” I glance at the curtain. Who knows who might be out there listening to us?

  “Sorry. But he’s pretty upset, too. Can’t you see how worried we all are?”

  Of course I can see that. And I hate that everyone feels like they have to worry about me.

  * * *

  I doze in and out, with Mom kissing me on the forehead at some point before leaving to get something to eat from the snack machines. Someone knocks on the door and I open my eyes, expecting to see the nurse again, but it’s Lucas who enters.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” My lips and throat are parched, so it comes out sounding more like a squeak. He looks so gorgeous, in his navy Polo that makes his eyes look so blue. I feel like a hag. My head hurts from crying earlier and I know my eyes are puffy. I want to hide my face under the covers.

  “You really had us scared today, Nat.” He’s holding a bottle of soda, twisting the cap on and off.

  “Sorry.” My throat burns. I’m so sick of saying that word. “Sit down. Or do you have to go?”

  He looks around, spots the chair, but then thinks better of it. “No. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just wanted to see how you were. And to let you know, I didn’t tell the girls about your pills.”

  I close my eyes, relief sweeping over me. “Thank you.”

  “Well, it didn’t seem to me like you wanted them to know. But keeping secrets like that could be dangerous. I mean, I understand why you’d want to. I wouldn’t have told anyone about me and Winter Oaks if they hadn’t been there when it happened. But they’re my friends. And they’re your friends now, too. Think about how they’ll feel when they do find out. Don’t you want to be the one to tell them?”

  He’s right, but I don’t want to think about facing Starla and Raine right now. “But you were talking to them. And they were staring at me.”

  Lucas has the balls to smile. “I think they were impressed that your father is an ER doctor.”

  I close my eyes.

  “You look tired,” Lucas says. “I should let you get some rest.”

  My eyes fly open. For some reason I don’t want him to leave just yet. “Thank you for coming to check on me. Thank you for everything. Especially when I did something so stupid I don’t deserve to live.”

  His face blanches in pain, and I feel stupid all over again. I want to take my words back immediately. How could I have said something so idiotic? So cruel?

  But instead of turning away, Lucas sighs and picks up my hand. “Natalie, you know that’s not true.”

  And he’s right. But I’m so tired of saying I’m sorry. So tired of apologizing. So I say the wrong thing. Again.

  “Whatever. Maybe I do need to get more sleep.” I turn my head toward the window, so I can’t see his face. But he’s not letting go of my hand. His thumb rubs against my wrist ever so gently. It makes my heart race and my chest tighten and my head woozy.

  “Natalie.” His shadow falls over me as he leans closer. “I wanted to ask you—”

  The door swings open and Lucas drops my hand as my brother enters the room. “Hey, Hippie. I brought you some ice cream from Leopold’s. Something to freeze your brain.” He’s holding a pint of my favorite ice cream. Mmm, pistachio.

  David stops when he sees Lucas. “Hey, I heard you were the one that took care of her until the paramedics could arrive. You should go to med school or something.”

  “Gimme,” I say, holding my hands out toward the ice cream.

  Lucas shoves his hand back in his pocket. “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he tells David. He looks back at me, his eyes somber. “Take care, Nat. I’d better go.”

  “See you,” my brother says. He waits until Lucas leaves, then turns to me with a frown.

  “Don’t even start until I get that ice cream,” I tell him. Pistachio ice cream will make any ass-chewing he plans to give me a little more tolerable.

  He hands it over, along with a spoon he snagged from the nurses’ station. “I’m not going to yell. I figure Mom probably did enough of that, huh?”

  I look up at my brother in surprise, and the lump in my throat isn’t from the cold ice cream. “Thank you,” I whisper, afraid I’m going to cry in front of him.

  He sighs and pulls the chair over to the bed, sitting down beside me. “It was incredibly stupid, but I think you know that. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  I nod, because I know that’s what he wants. To think that I’m all right. But I’m so scared that I’m not all right. That I’ll never be all right again.

  CHAPTER 15

  Two days before the dress rehearsal, Mrs. Green meets the cast and crew with a disgusted look on her face. Those baroque, golden cherubs decorating the proscenium above the stage do not look like they’re smiling, either. They look downright malicious.

  “Before we get started, I have a few short announcements to make. The Civic Arts Council has expressed concern about the safety of this building. I wanted to let everyone know . . . well, they are having a meeting tonight to decide whether or not to cancel the play.”

  There’s a ripple of noise in the audience. “Oh, that bites
,” Starla says, kicking the seat in front of her with her boot. Maizy turns around and glares at her.

  “Mrs. Green, what about the fund-raising planned?” Raine asks. “Don’t they need this performance in order to receive the state grants?”

  Mrs. Green sighs and shrugs helplessly. “The council is well aware of that. But I guess they’re more worried about lawsuits from parents.”

  I look around the dim theater. Is this what the ghosts want? Are they trying to get rid of everyone?

  “Now, I know a lot of parents have called me in the past week after the lighting accident.” Mrs. Green sweeps an arm across the cluster of us sitting in the cold, blue cushioned seats. “Several of them have already pulled their children out.”

  “What is she going to do about that?” David whispers. “We’ve lost like five people just from Cast One alone.”

  “If anyone with a minor part is willing to take on a second role, please see me,” Mrs. Green is still talking. “Also, anyone willing to perform their part on a second night, or even a third, as we are now down two Egeuses, I’d be forever in your debt.”

  Maizy snorts. “She wants us to memorize more lines? As if.”

  Raine raises her hand. “Hippolyta’s only got a few lines. I could pick up another part, and I could do both the Wednesday and the Friday night performances, but not Thursday.”

  “Thank you, dear. Now, for the wedding scene in the end, we can place large mirrored panels across the back of the stage to give the effect of having a larger crowd onstage. But honestly, looking at these numbers and given the wishes of the council members, I don’t know whether it even makes sense to carry on or not.”

  “Mirrors onstage?” Starla whispers. “Isn’t that like major bad luck?”

  “Let’s take a vote on it,” Colton says, standing up. “Who wants to see this thing through to the end?” He raises his own hand high. David, Starla, Raine, and I raise our hands. As do Lucas, Ferris, Peter, and several others.

  Bethany and her friend Alicia are the only two who don’t. With a scowl, Bethany finally raises hers and elbows Alicia into going along with it.

  “See, Aunt Carol?” Colton says. “We’re all in this together, and we’ve come this far. We can all handle one more week.”

  Our director begins to clap her manicured hands slowly. “Bravo, my dears. You are all stars in my book. And professionals, too. The show must go on and all that.” Tough as she is, she looks a little teary-eyed. “Okay, then, let’s get to work. First up on today’s schedule is Act Two. I need Oberon, Puck, and Titania ready to go. “Anyone interested in extra parts come see me. I need a Theseus and an Egeus”—she pauses to look through the pages on her clipboard—“and a Peaseblossom and a Moth.”

  Mrs. Green ascends to the stage as soon as the scene is over to lecture Bottom and the others. “The danger, when you have so many lines that rhyme, is falling into a singsongy rhythm. Don’t rap out your lines, Peter. You must be perfectly mindful of what you are saying at all times. And you must make sure your audience understands the sense of what you are saying as well.”

  “Mrs. Green,” Raine asks. “We’ve been talking about theater superstitions. Is it true you’re not supposed to peek out through the curtains during a play?”

  She laughs. “I have heard that. But some director or stage manager probably came up with that one to keep the actors from playing with the curtains. It destroys the whole illusion.”

  “What about not speaking the last line?” Starla asks.

  Mrs. Green frowns for a moment. “The last line . . . oh! You’re not supposed to say the last line of the play during rehearsals. You must save it for the real performance.”

  “But why?” Bethany asks.

  “I’m not sure.” Mrs. Green says. “But Cast One is going to run through the whole thing this afternoon. Everything except the last line.”

  * * *

  “Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends.” David forgets at the last minute, and says all of Puck’s final piece. Everyone gasps, despite Mrs. Green’s promises that it doesn’t mean anything. But a chill settles on the back of my neck, and I know that something bad is going to happen before we get to perform this play.

  CHAPTER 16

  Saturday is a set day, and we have students from SCAD all over the place, directing all three casts in painting and hammering and costume sewing.

  Starla and Raine are attending a workshop on making fairy wings, but I have the final fitting for my gown. Dress rehearsal is Tuesday night, and I’m starting to get nervous.

  The air smells like burning metal. Some SCAD students have convinced Mrs. Green to let them design the palace in Athens, and they would have turned it into a Japanese Shinto temple if Mrs. Green hadn’t put her foot down. She wants a traditional production of this Shakespearean play. Classical Greek costumes and sets for the Athenians, with a more mystical and glittery look for the fairy folk. Thank goodness she’s not making us wear green body paint, like in one of the British productions I watched on YouTube. I would not want to be Naked Green Titania.

  The seamstress is grimacing at me with pins in her mouth. “Hold still, please.”

  “Sorry.” My tulle skirt itches.

  A girl with spiky jet-black hair and a nose ring watches us and doodles on her clipboard. She’s in charge of hair and makeup and has been following me around all morning trying to decide what to do with my curls. “Maybe some dreads . . .” she suggests.

  “What would Shakespeare say?” I ask, alarmed. “Even more important, what would Mrs. Green say?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Right. Mrs. G is so boring.”

  “Can’t I just have a crown of roses?” I ask. I like roses.

  “There,” the seamstress says, sitting back on her heels and looking up at me. “Your majesty,” she adds with a formal wave of her hand.

  I turn to look in the mirror. This is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen. It’s lavender and delicate and magical. I can’t wait to see this costume with my hair done. Hopefully with roses. And not dreadlocks. “Thank you so much!” I say, breathless.

  I have to hurry to change back into my human clothes, the ratty UGA T-shirt I wore so I could paint flats. When I come out of the dressing room, Melinda, the seamstress, is waiting for me to hand over the dress.

  “Don’t let her talk you into the dreads,” she tells me, hanging the dress back in the enormous costume closet.

  “It was just an idea!” I hear from across the room.

  I find Starla and Raine in one of the rehearsal rooms off to the left of the stage. Starla is wielding a glue gun and Raine is modeling a very sparkly pair of wings. Too bad Hippolyta is a mortal lass. She makes a fetching fairy.

  “Feeling better today?” she asks.

  Thursday was so embarrassing. “I’m fine.” My parents wanted me to stay in bed all weekend, but the attic gets too hot during the day. They put a small air conditioner in the tiny window up there, but now I have no view and the attic feels cave-like and I get claustrophobic. I begged them to let me come to the theater today just to get out of the house.

  Starla pulls something out of her purse. “Check this out! My ghost hunter friend let me borrow one of his infrared cameras to sweep the theater tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Tell your parents we’re pulling an all-nighter. Colton’s got the security code for the theater, and we’ll convince our aunt we need to stay late to finish the scenery.”

  I have a hard time believing my mom will let me stay out past midnight, but I shrug. “Sounds like fun.”

  Raine waits until Starla goes off to show Colton and David the camera before nudging me with her elbow. “She’s already asked you-know-who and he says he’ll come.”

  “Who?”

  Her smile is sly. “A certain lifeguard who thinks you’re hot.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I say, blushing. “I almost died on him the other day. And not in a glamorous wa
y at all.”

  “Come on,” Raine says. “You know he likes you, right?”

  “But him and Starla . . .” I say, and this is the closest I get to admitting how much I care about him. How much it bothers me that she is the Evil Ex who broke his heart.

  “Those two are old news.” She glances over at Starla, who is now talking to Mrs. Green. Her EMF detector is nowhere to be seen. “Starla has plans for a big acting career and moving to New York as soon as she finishes college. She decided last year that having a steady boyfriend would hold her back. She’s only about casual hookups right now.”

  “Wait a minute. That’s why she broke up with him right after his mom died? Because she didn’t want his baggage?”

  Raine shrugs. “Actually I think she’d already told him she needed space right before his mom died. She told him it was for the best for both of them. That he deserved a girl who would put him first.” Raine plays with one of her dreadlocks.

  It sounds to me as if Starla couldn’t stand that Lucas couldn’t put her first. That grieving for his dying mom and trying to hold his own family together cut into time Starla felt he should have been spending with her. But I could just be a bitter seventeen-year-old who’s been scarred by her own relationship experiences. So I keep my opinions to myself.

  “Anyway, she’s sworn off serious relationships until after college,” Raine says.

  “But one-night flings are okay?”

  Raine nods and stares across the theater at Starla, who is now showing her EMF meter to Peter.

  Uh-oh.

  Starla giggles as Peter reaches for the device and she holds it away from him. “You have to wait for tonight!” she says. We can hear the seductive tinge to her voice all the way over here.

  Raine shakes her head. “She can’t help it. She flirts with everyone.”

  “She’s just like Colton,” I say.

  “Exactly. I don’t think Colton can help it, either. Come on, let’s go rescue Peter.”

  If Peter needed to be rescued from Starla’s clutches, he doesn’t seem to realize it. “Oh hey, Raine.” And that is the extent of his conversation with her. “Star, do you think we should call Ghost Hunters to check out the theater? Maybe we need professionals here.”