“And the story of Lily is actually attached to the old Howell Theater,” Peter says, reading a Web site about Haunted Savannah on his phone. “Not this building.”
“There’s still a chance there’s something here,” Starla says. “I mean, all theaters should have at least one ghost. Especially since the ghost light burned out.”
“But I just got tangled up in my own paranoia and clumsiness,” I say. I’ve never been so embarrassed.
“I think this creepy building makes us all paranoid,” Raine says.
“Are you ready to go home?” David asks.
I nod. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m sick of this place.
“We can take her,” Raine says. “I need to be getting home, too.”
Colton nudges my brother and David frowns. “All right. Will you text me when you get home?”
“I’m fine.” Maybe if I say a lie three times, it will become true. “Please don’t worry.”
As Colton locks up, I follow the girls to Raine’s car and climb in the backseat. David waves his phone at me. “Text me,” he mouths. I nod.
Raine and Starla both turn around and look at me. “Are you really all right?” Raine asks. “Are you hurt?”
“No, just shaken up a little.”
Starla bites her lip. “Nat, did you and Lucas have a fight? He seemed anxious to leave tonight.”
I shake my head. “What would we fight about? What did he say?”
I see Raine’s eyes in the rearview mirror shift from Starla to me. She’s wondering if we did something else besides fight. Which is probably what she was hoping when she and Peter left us alone back there.
“Tell me what happened with you and Peter,” I say, leaning forward and grabbing the back of Raine’s seat. “Did he try anything?”
Even in the dark car I can see her blushing. I grin. “Raine! Tell us!”
Starla smiles. “Finally! I was beginning to think it was hopeless for you two!”
“Oh. My. God! He’s such a good kisser!” Raine squeals as she turns into my neighborhood.
So is Lucas, but I can’t say that. For one, Starla already knows. And for another, it’s not like I’ll get a happily-ever-after like Raine.
Raine pulls up in front of my house. “Don’t forget to text your brother. So he doesn’t think we kidnapped you.”
“Your brother’s really a great guy,” Starla says.
I shrug. “He can be when he wants to be. But dumbass forgot my phone is dead. Will one of you text him for me?”
“Texting now,” Starla says. “With a ransom note. Mwu-ha-ha.”
I roll my eyes. “Thanks for the ride. See you Monday?”
“Dress rehearsal! Woot!” Starla says.
It’s almost two in the morning, so I try to be as quiet as possible when I unlock the door. I just want to crawl into bed and not think about Lucas’s mind-blowing kiss.
I want to not think about the way his fingers felt curving around my waist in the dark.
I definitely do not want to think about the way he looked when I mentioned Starla. How he’s still in love with her, despite what he says.
“You’re up late.”
I startle, as the light flips on in the living room and I see Grandma sitting on the sofa, holding a digital photo frame.
“So are you,” I say, once my heart stops pounding. “What are you doing?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Just getting home from play practice?”
“We were working on the set. Dress rehearsal is the day after tomorrow, and we were falling behind.”
She’s staring at the digital photo frame in her hands. Images fade in and out. Old photos of her, Grandpa, Dad. Me and David. Her and Grandpa. Grandma’s wedding dress. A pregnant Grandma. Mom and Dad’s wedding. Grandpa and his car.
I sit down on the sofa next to her, gently. She doesn’t move or say anything. I don’t know what to say to her, so I just sit and keep her company. Until she doesn’t want company anymore.
There must be over a hundred photos on this frame. It takes forever before it loops around again. And there’s Grandma’s wedding dress again. Her long red curls peek out from beneath her veil. She’s holding blue hydrangeas and lilies of the valley.
“Blue for madness.” Her voice is soft. Sad.
When the photograph of Grandpa standing next to his Charger appears, she touches the screen.
“He was so handsome,” I say.
She laughs. “That he was.”
Her laugh is comforting. Normal-sounding. So I stand up. “I think I’d better get some sleep. Good night, Grandma.”
“Sleep tight. Don’t let the ghosties bite.”
“What?” I spin around to stare at her.
She looks up at me, surprised. “I said sleep tight.”
Maybe I’m just overly exhausted and not paying attention. “Oh. Thanks.”
“All you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Taking your medication?” she asks.
I glare at her. “Yes. Are you?”
Grandma smiles. And her smile gives me a chill. “Perhaps you should run along to bed, Natalie. Fatigue can be dangerous when you’re already emotionally fragile.”
I turn and hurry up the stairs to the attic. I had turned the air conditioner off before I left the house this morning, so now my room feels like an oven. I turn the unit on and crank it up to its coldest setting. I am exhausted, but I turn on my laptop to search for Savannah ghost stories. I can’t go to sleep until I know for sure. I search for Lily, the five-year-old theater ghost.
And find her. Lily Marcetti. My stomach clenches. The five-year-old daughter of traveling performers from Italy. Died in 1889. Inside the Howell Theater. Not the Savannah Theater, which was originally known as the Fox Theater. The St. Charles Theater downtown is also supposed to have several resident ghosts. But I can find nothing supernatural online about the Savannah Theater.
No ghosts. It was all in my head.
No ghosts at all.
I plug my phone into its charger. I’ll have to text David in the morning to make sure he knows I’m okay.
I crawl into bed, hoping I’ll fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, but images from this evening tumble over and over in my mind. The curtains that trapped me. Lucas’s kiss. Grandma’s wicked smile. Lucas’s kiss. Lucas’s face when I mentioned Starla. I can’t get my mind to shut down. To stop thinking.
Just breathe, Natalie. One of the therapy techniques we learned at Winter Oaks. Which makes me think of Lucas again, but I try to focus on my breathing. In and out. In and out. I count my breaths and try not to think about anything else.
One thing I cannot deny anymore. The ghost has been nothing but a hallucination. I’m really sick in the head after all.
In the morning I will ask Mom to take me to the doctor and see about getting stronger medicine.
CHAPTER 18
Mom calls and the doctor is able to squeeze me in early Monday morning. He’s not happy about my trip to the emergency room earlier last week, nor is he happy when I tell him I think I’m hearing voices and seeing ghosts.
At Winter Oaks, the doctors couldn’t officially diagnose me with schizophrenia after only one psychotic episode. And since it was drug-induced, there was a small chance I might never have another break again. But given my family history, I can’t believe that. I just know that one of these days I’ll finally slip into the deep end and wind up like Grandma. I have no doubt of it. Especially when I’m seeing ghosts in the theater.
“I don’t know if I want her to continue with the play,” Mom says.
“Do you feel threatened? Do you feel as if you’re in any danger when you are in the theater?” Dr. Snow asks me.
I shake my head. Not anymore. There never was a ghost. It was just my broken mind all along.
“We’ve discussed the need for keeping up her social interactions,” Dr. Snow is saying to Mom. “I’d like for her to see the play through. It??
?s a challenge that I think she’s more than up to meeting.” He writes something on his tiny prescription pad and hands it to Mom. “We’ll increase her dosage of Zyprexa and see if that helps. You said the dress rehearsal is tonight?”
When I nod, my doctor smiles. “Break a leg, Miss Roman.”
* * *
“It’s just a superstitious saying,” Mom says as we’re driving back home. “You wish an actor bad luck so the opposite will happen.”
I roll my eyes. “I know that.”
“Are you sure you’re up for tonight?”
My stomach is a mess of angry nerves, but I nod. “I’m sure.” I know my lines, I know my blocking. I’m excited about wearing The Dress.
I’m not excited about seeing Lucas.
Grandma shakes her head when she sees my new prescription. I swallow my pills with a swig of Diet Dr Pepper. “They’ll just keep upping that dosage until they turn you into a vegetable.”
“How do you all feel about Chinese takeout for lunch?” Mom asks, trying to keep the peace.
“Or sushi?” David asks hopefully. “I’ve heard some good things about that new place on Bull Street.”
“Too much mercury in fish,” Grandma says. “I’d rather have MSG.”
“Nat?” Mom asks for my opinion.
I have to side with Grandma. “Let’s do Chinese. I need crabmeat Rangoon for good luck.”
David goes and picks up lunch for us, and brings Colton back with him. And a box of sushi.
And no Rangoon. “They were out. Sorry.”
But because I was pinning my good luck on that crab Rangoon, I worry that it’s a bad omen for tonight. I skip the General Tso’s chicken and barely nibble on the lo mein.
Mom and Grandma eat in the kitchen, but we take our food into the living room. David and I sit on the couch, Colton plops down on the floor next to us, his food on the coffee table.
Colton runs lines with me. He seems to be humming with a wild and nervous energy. He is already becoming Oberon. “Sorry I have to drug you tonight, Natalicious.”
“Just don’t take advantage of me,” I say.
David snorts.
“I don’t think your beau would be happy with me,” Colton says, and ducks before I can stab him with a chopstick.
David frowns. “Nat, did something happen between you and Lucas last night?”
I turn redder than the General Tso’s chicken. “No. Why?”
“Oh, I think something did happen,” Colton says. “Look at that adorable blush.”
“Tell us, Nat,” David says, tossing fortune cookies to me and Colton. “What is going on with you two?”
“Nothing. I don’t think he’s ready to start seeing anyone just yet.” I take my cookie out of its wrapper, but don’t open it yet.
“So he’s a little damaged,” Colton says. “Aren’t we all? If he wasn’t broody and broken, you probably wouldn’t want him anyway.”
“There’s broody and then there’s still hung up on your ex,” I mutter.
Colton bursts out laughing. “What planet are you living on?” he says. “Lucas? Hung up on Star?”
Surely he knows. Starla is his cousin. “I’m serious. You didn’t see the look on his face last night when I asked about them. He still has a broken heart.”
Colton stops laughing. “Oh, Natalicious. You can still have a broken heart without having feelings for the person who broke it. Trust me, I know this personally.”
David leans over and gives Colton a kiss on the top of his head. They’re totally mad about each other, and as happy as I am for them, I want someone to be that mad about me. Crazy mad in love with me.
“You really think he’s over her?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“They should have broken up before Mrs. Grant died, but yeah. I think he’s over her now.” Colton swings one arm around me and one around David. “It’s time he gets some happiness. You, too.”
Maybe he’s right, but I still worry about my impending psychotic break. Mental stability is probably one of the most important qualities Lucas looks for in a girlfriend. If not, it should be.
* * *
I ride with David and Colton to the theater. My stomach is in knots and I can’t think straight. Maybe Chinese food wasn’t the best pre-dress-rehearsal lunch.
Mrs. Green is tapping her feet and points toward backstage. David tugs on my ponytail.
“Break a leg,” Colton says, laughing, as they both disappear into the boys’ dressing room.
I look up and down the hallway. There’s nothing frightening or ominous about it right now. Maybe because I can hear laughter coming from the girls’ dressing room.
Human laughter, not creepy ghost giggling.
I push open the door and take a deep breath. It’s time to put on THE DRESS.
There are more SCAD students helping out again today. Melinda smiles when she sees me and waves me over. She is going to be my personal dresser.
“Natalicious!” Starla says, stealing Colton’s nickname for me. I really don’t like it when other people use it. “Are you ready?”
Raine gives me a regal grin. She’s already wearing her gold-trimmed toga and is busy adding gold ribbons to her long hair. She’s going to make a beautiful Amazon queen.
“I’m ready,” I tell Starla, and if I say it enough times, I might convince myself.
Starla’s costume for Helena is a bright yellow velvet gown, with golden trim. “I read somewhere that it’s unlucky to wear blue onstage,” she whispers, nodding toward the other side of the dressing room. Bethany’s dress is a royal blue. Starla giggles.
“Should we worry about Bethany?” I ask, as Melinda starts helping me take my clothes off. “Maybe we should say something? So they can find her another costume?”
Raine shrugs her Amazonian shoulders. “Mrs. Green already tried. Bethany said she loves that color and refuses to wear anything else.”
“Why is blue unlucky?” I asked. I always thought blue was a lucky color. Not as lucky as purple though. Purple has always been my favorite. Which is why I love Titania’s dress so much.
“Probably just because blue was an expensive dye and the theater companies didn’t want to waste money on expensive costumes,” Starla says.
“Blue is for madness,” Melinda says, then points at Starla. “And yellow is the Devil in Disguise.”
Starla glares at her, but my dresser doesn’t notice. She’s too busy helping me with the bodice. I think of Grandma and the blue hydrangeas on her wedding day. Blue for madness, indeed.
“And lavender is for enchanted fairy queens.” Raine squeals as I slip the dress on over my head. “Oh my God, you look incredible!”
Melinda tugs on the laces in the back and I have trouble breathing. “Suck it in,” she says. “We need to cinch it tight. The headpiece isn’t quite done, so you won’t be able to wear it until tomorrow night. But I think you’re going to like it.”
The bodice is cut low in a sweetheart design, edged in silver lace. The long sleeves hang off the shoulder and I’m suddenly nervous about Mom and Dad seeing me in this dress tomorrow night. Especially now that Melinda has squeezed my boobs so I have cleavage. Like, Victoria’s Secret cleavage.
I pull the ponytail holder out of my hair and my curls are set free. I stare at myself in the mirror.
And I don’t even recognize myself. I see Faerie Queen Titania staring back at me. It gives me chills.
Or that could just be because my shoulders are naked.
We hear Mrs. Green’s voice in the back hallway. “Five minutes, minions! I want to see all cast members in the green room in five minutes!” Her high heels click down the hallway.
“Are you two ready?” Raine asks. Starla is still arranging her hair. Her aunt made her get rid of the blue and purple streaks for the play. Starla didn’t want her blond to clash with the dress, so now she has hair as black as Colton’s. It’s jarring to look at her. It gives her a Snow-White-stole-Belle’s-dress look. Sort of.
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Raine pushes the door open and hurries us out. “Let’s go break some legs.”
I follow the girls into the green room, where most of the cast is already assembled. “Plenty of room in here, make room. Make room,” Mrs. Green says. She sweeps a sharp glance across the crowd, and smiles. A rare and precious Mrs. Green smile. “I know you’ve all been busting your ass these last few days, and stepped up more than I could have possibly hoped. I just want you all to know how very proud I am of you.”
Our fearless director makes us stand in a circle and hold hands. I reach for Raine’s hand on the right side, and look over to see who is standing on my left.
Lucas. He’s staring at me, his eyes open wide in wonder.
I grab his hand, since he’s not offering it.
Something electric passes from his fingers to mine, and I know he feels it the same instant I do. I hear his sharp intake of breath. He squeezes my fingers, gently. My whole body sings and I can’t focus on anything Mrs. Green is saying.
Lucas leans his head toward me. I can smell basil and soap on him. He must have been working at Giorgio’s this afternoon. “You look beautiful,” he whispers.
We’re all supposed to be quiet and focus on getting into character. But I forget all about Titania. My head is full of Lucas. Not Demetrius, even though he makes a very fine Athenian lord indeed. He looks like Hercules, with leather armor fitted over his white toga, and a crimson cape slung over his shoulder.
“Everyone close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Mrs. Green says. I close my eyes, but all I think about is Lucas, with his bare, muscular arms standing very near to me and my bare shoulders. I can feel the heat radiating off of him. Somehow, I don’t feel so cold anymore.
Lucas’s thumb grazes the edge of my wrist, ever so slightly. I don’t even know if he did it on purpose. But it drives me crazy.
Mrs. Green’s voice cuts into my lustful thoughts. “Focus, people. I want you to forget about everything else except your character. Search deep within and explore your physical reactions to your emotions. This is what you must bring to your character to bring her to life.”
* * *
“So, in her blue gown, is Bethany going to go mad?” I ask as we wait behind the curtains.