Chapter 30

Ruby

The night that I asked about Luna, Atwood gave me a cold and distant answer and then promptly sent me to bed. I tried not to think about it, but I couldn’t help but toss and turn all night wondering just who Luna was and why Atwood was being so strange about it.

That night, as I lay in bed, I had another vision. Truthfully, I’m not sure if it was a vision or a dream, but even now, two weeks later, it burns inside my mind.

In the vision, there was a beautiful woman with long, dark hair staring at me.

Not a real woman, not really.

A painting.

I was standing in that same dark room from that day I had been running around the castle. I don’t know how I had gotten in there, or the events leading up to it, but there I was, holding the white sheet that covered the painting in my hand.

Was this Luna?

I looked down.

There was blood on my hands.

I haven’t stopped thinking about that vision.

It seems as though Atwood forgot about my question -- or at least, he’s pretending that he forgot, because it is now the weekend of both the play and the homecoming dance, and when he comes into my room carrying a blue box with a big smile on his face, it seems as though nothing ever happened that night in the kitchen.

It’s Friday morning, and I’m getting ready for school. Alice was nowhere to be found this morning, which is odd given the fact that she and the Queen have been all over me like a cheap suit these past couple of weeks. When Atwood enters, however, I figure that maybe he just told her to give us some space this morning.

“Good morning, little bird,” Atwood says with a smile as he approaches. He’s been calling me that a lot lately since Tamara said that I sing like a bird. It always makes me blush for him to call me by a pet name.

“I brought you something.” He sets the box down on the chaise and gestures for me to come.

I stand and walk over to the chaise. The box is long and slender, and I wonder what might be inside.

“Go on. Open it.”

I lift the lid off, followed by the tissue paper. I gasp.

Inside is a beautiful black gown. The voluminous fabric sparkles in the light when I lift it from the box. The skirt is thick with tulle, fit for a princess, and it’s got long sheer sleeves that puff out and then taper again at the wrists.

“Do you like it?” Atwood asks. “I snuck off and bought it for you that day in Greenwood when I said I had to take a business call.”

“I… I love it,” I whisper, holding it up to myself in the mirror. A smile spreads across my face, and for a moment I don’t think about Luna or the vision. I twirl around, holding the dress in front of me with a huge smile spread across my face.

“A beautiful dress for a beautiful princess,” Atwood says. He reaches out to touch my cheek.

When his hand grazes my skin, however, another vision comes to my mind. It’s just a flash, so quick I almost miss it, but… it’s Atwood, standing in this exact spot, touching the cheek of the dark haired woman just as he is touching mine now.

I step back involuntarily, causing Atwood to frown.

“Are you alright?” he says, looking both concerned and a little sad.

“Y-Yes,” I lie. “I’m just… a little sad that you won’t be able to attend the dance with me.”

Atwood’s smile returns and he slips another smaller box out of his pocket. “That’s why I also got you this.”

I set the dress back down in its box and take the smaller box from him, opening it to reveal a small metal locket. He puts it on for me in the mirror.

“If you ever need me, or just want to feel my presence, all you have to do is hold the pendant,” he says softly into my ear. As my body tingles from his breath on my skin, the new vision of the beautiful dark-haired woman fades away and is replaced by a new feeling of warmth and affection for Atwood.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I say, turning to face him.

“You don’t have to. Just have fun at the dance. And I’ll be looking forward to seeing your performance tonight.”

School goes by all too quickly today, and before I know it, it’s almost time for the play.

The other actors mill about backstage, taking what little time we have left to do their vocal warmups, practice their lines one last time, and get into costume. Nancy follows me backstage and hops up onto a stack of empty suitcases used as props to sit and watch me get ready as she swings her legs back and forth.

“I’m so excited for you!” she says with a grin, twirling her braid with her fingers. “We have to go and get ice cream after the show.”

“Sure,” I say absentmindedly as I rifle through my bag. The last thing on my mind right now is ice cream. In fact, the thought of eating anything makes me feel sick to my stomach because I’m so nervous.

“Oooh, I could go for some mint chocolate chip,” she says. “Or… Or brownie cookie sundae, or…”

Her voice fades into the distance as I become more frantic in my search for my costume.

It’s not in my bag. I check the costume rack, and it’s not there either.

“Um… has anyone seen my costume?” I shout over Nancy, causing her to fall silent with concern. The other actors simply shake their heads and shrug before going back to their own preparations.

“What happened?” Nancy says, hopping off her stack of suitcases as I frantically dump my bag out onto the floor. Did I accidentally take it home after dress rehearsal?

“My costume,” I whimper, tears welling up in my eyes. “It’s gone.”

Just then, the drama club teacher comes in and announces that the show will start in ten minutes.

“No, no, no,” I mutter, pacing back and forth and chewing my lip nervously.

“Hey,” Nancy says, “it’s okay. We’ll just… we’ll make you a new one!” She drags me over to the costume rack and starts rifling through it, eventually producing a skirt and a top that vaguely resemble my original costume.

I just barely manage to get dressed and get my hair and makeup haphazardly done before the teacher comes back to call us to our places.

It’s not the same, but… it works, I guess. I just hope that Atwood isn’t disappointed by my appearance.

Nancy leaves to go find her seat in the audience, giving me one last hug before she goes.

The show begins.

It actually goes surprisingly well, despite Earl’s disdain for me offstage and my costume mishap. The audience applauds, laughs, and cries at all the right moments. With each passing minute I’m on stage, I can feel myself becoming more confident with how smoothly everything is going.

The first act ends. We have a brief intermission, which gives me enough time to have some water, use the bathroom, and mentally prepare myself for the stage kiss with Earl as well as my big solo.

When the curtain rises again for the second act, it’s time for my solo.

I’m standing stage center. My character has just gotten lost in the woods and separated from her love, and now it’s time for me to sing. I look out into the audience, expecting to see Atwood’s and Tamara’s faces looking up at me from the front row…

Their seats are empty.

My eyes quickly scan the crowd, but I don’t see them.

“Psst!” the teacher whispers from her spot at the piano backstage. She makes an annoyed gesture as if to say “What are you doing?”

I open my mouth to sing, but nothing comes out. My voice catches in my throat. Suddenly, all of my confidence from earlier drops away, leaving me feeling naked in front of the audience.

I try to sing again. This time, a small croak comes out as my voice cracks. Someone in the audience chuckles.

My face turns beet red and I run offstage with tears in my eyes, ignoring the teacher’s frantic whispers for me to come back.

I don’t stick around to see what happens. All I know is that when I run offstage, there’s Beck, poised and ready to take my place, and she’s wearing my costume.

I run through the school and out the back door into the cold as tears stream down my face.

There’s snow on the ground.