Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (55 page)

“Hey, Shelly is like a walking pharmacy. I’ll ask my
dad what you should take to settle yourself and chances are
she’ll have some in her bag. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

The
sound of
sobbing
now echoed
through
the
restroom. “Thanks, Ruby, but that isn’t going to help me any.
Even if she has the miracle cure, I’m still going to worry the
entire time I’m out there. There’s only one solution to this
problem. You have to take my place.”

“I have to WHAT?” The flu was affecting more than
just her digestive tract if she thought I was going to get on
that stage instead of her. That idea was cra-zy!

“You heard me, Ruby. You know Kira’s lines just as
well as I do—maybe even better. You have to do it. Quick, get
into the stall beside me and switch me clothes.”

“You have to, Ruby. If you won’t do it for me, do it for
Giuseppe. This is his tribute to his son. Regardless of how
you feel about Jonas, you know how awful his dad feels about
everything that happened.
Not to mention the fact that he
gave you a nice fat check to make up for everything you went
through. You owe it to him, Ruby.”

Dammit. Why did she have to go and lay a guilt trip on
me? Theoretically, yes, I could recite every line of that play—
not just her
part.
I spent countless
hours
helping
her
rehearse plus at least triple that amount of time sitting in the
audience while everyone else ran their lines, too. But I had no
desire to be the center of attention. In fact, I shied away from
it every chance I got. Less than five minutes until show time
and I gave up hope of getting Rachel to take the stage. My
luck was excellent all week long but would it hold out long
enough for me to not make a complete fool of myself tonight?

I made a rash decision and flung open the stall door
next to hers. “Hurry up and toss me your costume! But if I
walk off that stage tonight with serious psychological scars,
I’m sending
you
my therapy bill.”

For the
first
few
scenes,
I was
less
emotionally
expressive than a department store mannequin. Stiff motions,
wooden delivery.
Slowly
though,
I began to feel more
comfortable. By the second act, I was positively glowing. I’d
never dreamed of exposing myself in that kind of way, of
setting myself up for either epic praise or epic failure. The
feeling
was
incredible—like
sky
diving
naked
in
a
thunderstorm. The fear, the adrenaline, the vulnerability all
mixed together into a wonderful euphoric cocktail.
I was
having the time of my life. As the final scene approached, I
started to become sad that it was almost over. Rachel would
surely feel fine by tomorrow and she would be dying to
reclaim her role. I had to make those precious few moments
last.

Since either Lucas or I were in almost every scene, I
hadn’t had a chance to explain to him why I was playing the
part of Kira instead of Rachel. When we finally had a moment
to talk, he didn’t give me an opportunity to tell him what
happened.

“Wow, Ru! You’re incredible out there! Didn’t I tell
you to never say never? You bring life to the character in a
way that Rachel doesn’t. If you had tried out for the part like I
told you to, I guarantee you would have gotten it instead of
her.”

“Really? Thanks, Lucas! I was
super
scared at first but
the longer I was out there, the more natural it felt and I
started to enjoy it. Oh, but we only have two more scenes left
and my acting career is over.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ll just make these two scenes the
absolute best they can be. I have two ideas for how we can
make the most of them.”

“I was thinking that it would make the final scene
much more powerful if you could shed a tear or two as you
tell me how much you love me. Can you cry on command?”

Holding back tears was my specialty. Would I be able
to force one or two out just for the sake of the play? I decided
to give it a try. I searched my memory for one of the saddest
moments I’d collected in my life—how I felt when Mimi died.
I dug deep into that pain—wallowed in it—until I felt the
moistness in my eye accumulate into a single tear.

Lucas smiled and gave me a fist bump for my efforts.
As the scene ended and we needed to take our places, I asked
quickly, “What’s your second idea?”

He tossed me the necklace that Kira was supposed to
be wearing, the
one Erik gave her and
would have to
comment on in one of the last few lines. “You need to take off
all of your other jewelry, too.
Everything about the costume
needs to be the same tomorrow night even if Rachel is the one
playing the part. It’s an old theater superstition.”

“Thanks,” I said as I slipped the beads around my
neck. “I certainly don’t want to bring any more bad luck down
on this production.”

I slid my
promise ring
off
of my
finger without
hesitation and stuffed it into my pocket.
Ever since Lucas
pointed out that
never
taking it off even when it made sense to
wasn’t exactly what Zach meant when he gave it to me, I’d
removed it every night before bed. It’s a good thing I got used
to not wearing it on occasion otherwise I would be having a
panic attack right now.
I took my place on stage just as the
curtain rose.

It’s weird how some of the most monumental
moments of your life happen when you least expect it. The
final scene,
the final line—not just of the play,
but of a
confusing time in my life.
As Lucas took my hand in his and
raised it to his heart, he pressed his lips to mine. I’d watched
him and Rachel rehearse the part dozens of times. The kiss
between Erik and Kira was meant to be nothing but a soft,
sweet peck and that was exactly what I was prepared for. But
if there’s one thing I should have learned in life by now, it was
to expect the unexpected.

When our lips touched, it didn’t end there. He gently
coaxed his tongue into my mouth and my world exploded
right there on that stage. If it’s true that a picture is worth a
thousand words, then a kiss must be worth at least a million.
There was no more doubt in my mind or in my heart. As the
curtain fell and applause filled the theater, it felt like they
were all applauding because finally everything made sense to
me.
I knew exactly who I was meant to spend the rest of my
life with.

Winter used to be my favorite season. When we were
kids, Rachel and I used to make armies of snowmen on the
front lawn—our parents practically had to drag us into the
house at the end of the day.
As I got older, I traded in
snowmen for impromptu hockey games with Boone and the
rest of the guys. This year, I was looking forward to enjoying
winter in other ways.

I pictured Ruby and me walking hand in hand through
the snow, ice skating together and then snuggling on the
couch with hot chocolate to warm up. Why couldn’t life ever
go the way I planned?

Everything started out perfect, everything would have
stayed
perfect if hadn’t been for him. I should have known
that day was really the beginning of the end for Ruby and me.

I was so proud of her when Rachel joined me in the
audience and told me that Ruby was taking her place on the
stage. She was always so shy and self-conscious but I knew
she would outshine everyone else. And she did.
When she
walked back on stage for those last few scenes, she looked so
confident and happy.
I should have known that it was the
beginning of the end—for me.

Rachel and I were sitting front and center. I wasn’t
sure if Ruby could see me over the spotlights, but I thought
she might be able to feel me—feel me cheering her on, feel
how happy I was to see her step outside of her comfort zone
and be successful at it. Even if she couldn’t see me, I could
still see her. And as she approached the front of the stage for
those final lines, that’s when I saw it. Or to be more accurate,
I
didn’t
see it.

The ring, the promise ring I gave her on Halloween,
the ring she swore she would never take off as long as she
loved me—it was missing from her finger. I paid attention to
every little detail of Ruby but that ring was the first thing I
looked for lately. While part of me expected this to happen,
part of me never thought it would. Hope was the first thing
that died that night.

Rachel had already prepared me for the fact that the
final scene involved a kiss, an innocent, harmless kiss. “A
simple peck on the lips—trust me,” she said. “If it were
anything
more
involved,
Boone
would have stayed home
tonight. He knows that I want to be an actress and that I’ll
have to kiss other guys in some scenes. He trusts me but he
says he never wants to actually watch me do it—unless I’m
kissing a girl that is.” She waved casually to Boone who was
seated a few rows behind us with his family to prove her
point.

Rachel was the best sister ever and I
did
trust her but I
had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.
And no,
Rachel was wrong—I wasn’t just getting the flu again. I
leaned forward
on the
edge of
my
seat, waiting
for the
inevitable.

The kiss. The harmless, innocent peck on the lips was
nothing short of smoldering.
And when I saw that tear fall
from her eyes, I knew exactly what it meant. It meant that she
was overcome with emotion—that she was truly in love with
Lucas. But for me, it was an emotional sucker punch to the
stomach, a mental kick in the groin. I trusted Ruby. I trusted
her with my heart and my soul. I chased her when I thought
she wanted to be chased. I backed off when I thought she just
needed her space. It wasn’t easy either—it was like trying to
push away the sky. She rebuilt my heart when I thought it
was
irreparably
broken
only
to
shatter
it
beyond
all
recognition. Our relationship was over. Life as I knew it was
over. I was well past the beginning of the end.

I launched myself out of my seat and up the aisle with
Rachel chasing me the whole way. As she grabbed my arm
and tried to reason with me and get me to stay, I shook her off
roughly. “She wants him, not me.”

Usually Rachel would say something optimistic to try
to make me feel better. When all she said was, “I’m sorry,
Zach,” I knew that I was right about everything.

I plowed my way out of the theater door and ran to
my car. It was freezing cold outside and my jacket was still
hanging on the back of my seat inside. It didn’t matter
anyway. All of the jackets in the world would never make me
warm again—at least not in
my
heart where it really
mattered.

I drove without direction and with no sense of where I
belonged anymore. Everywhere I looked I saw a memory of
her.
The places we used to go, the things we used to do
together, all of the moments we said we would share in the
future. Tonight marked the death of memories I hadn’t even
made yet. I started to cry.

Where did I go wrong? What happened to make her
stop loving me? If she needed something from me, something
I wasn’t giving her—all she had to do was ask for it. Was it
because
he
saved her from Jonas and not me? I was willing to
die for her and she knew that.
Could Lucas say the same
thing—and mean it?

Even though she was barely speaking to me, I went to
the theater that night to give her the kind of Valentine’s Day
she always wanted, the kind she always deserved. I couldn’t
afford to buy her anything so I packed a picnic basket with all
of her favorite foods with the plan to whisk her away to the
balcony for a romantic dinner.
Instead, Lucas was the one
doing the whisking.

I flew past my house and without even thinking, I
found myself heading toward Rosewood. It was like my brain
decided that my heart hadn’t taken enough punishment
already.
When I realized what road I was on, my
heart
decided to take control.

I cut the wheel sharply and slid sideways onto a back
road that I normally didn’t take. As I drove, I tried my best
not to think about her, but it was impossible. Death was the
only thing that could ever erase the marks she’d made on my
heart.
Whether we were together or not, the memory of how
I used to feel when I was with her was indelible.

The road before me twisted into a sharp turn and on
the other side, I found something unexpected. A huge black
bird was perched in the center and feeding from a fresh
carcass. Instinct took over and I cut the steering wheel hard
to avoid hitting it.
The bird flew straight up into the air
unharmed as I lost control of the car.

The Neon spun in circles before plunging down the
side of an embankment and into a grove of pine trees. In that
moment, time seemed to shift into slow motion. As branch
after branch smashed into the sides of the car, I noticed the
little things. The song that was playing on the radio, the name
on the mail box as I smashed into it, the time on the clock.
8:47. It’s strange the thoughts you have, the details you
notice just before you—