Page 58 of The Write Place

Ben looks between us, then gets out of his chair in a swift motion that belies his wrestler’s build. He’s down the aisle in an instant, his arms crossed and his biceps flexed like some kind of auditorium bouncer.

Jenny’s eyes bounce back and forth between mine. “They want you here for this, but they can do it without you. Do you want me to tell Ken you got sick or something?”

I watch Daniel and Ben arguing quietly in the middle of the aisle. I scrub my eyes with the palms of my hands.

“Am I overreacting?”

Jenny tilts her head, studying me. “Do you feel like you’re overreacting?”

“I feel like he should have told me, and I’m angry that he didn’t. I feel like I just want to get this stupid thing over with and go home.”

“Do you want to go home with Evans or without him?” I can see her formulating a plan in her head, and I know, come hell or high water, she is going to get me what I need at this moment.

“I think he has a mess to clean up that has nothing to do with me.”

“That’s all I need to know.” She leaves the sound booth and says a few words to Ben, who comes back inside, then she whirls on Daniel. I almost feel sorry for him. However confident Alison West seems to be, Jenny Green could dominate her in a battle of wills any day.

I can’t hear much of what they say, but it seems like Jenny is the one mostly talking, and Daniel is trying to listen. He keeps looking toward the sound booth, then snapping his attention back to Jenny and narrowing his eyes. Whatever she’s saying, he doesn’t like it.

“Hey, Mac,” Ben starts tentatively beside me. I whip my head to him, my nostrils flaring slightly. He leans back and rubs a hand on his jeans. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry about what, exactly?” I snip.

“You know what.” When I glare at him, he sighs. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Don’t mess with me today, Ben,” I warn him.

“Fine. Okay. I’m sorry I didn’t stick up for you when Marty and Edgar were complaining after school. I should have, and I knew it even before I saw you standing out there. The truth is, we were all a little jealous of you, but that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t have participated, and I’m sorry.”

I regard him, my lips pursed and my eyes narrowed. Then my expression softens. The man just bodyguard-blocked Daniel-freaking-Evans in the middle of the Leade Park High School auditorium. And apologized. That all has to be worth something. I dip my chin slightly.

“Does that mean you forgive me?” he asks hopefully.

“It means you’re on probation. I better not hear about you doing anything even remotely shitty like that ever again, especially if you want me to think you’re even halfway good enough for my best friend.”

He nods enthusiastically, then his gaze slides to Jenny, who is coming back. Daniel, amazingly, is walking back toward the stage.

“Here’s the plan,” Jenny says when she reaches us. “Ken will say his few words and introduce you two. You are going to enter from stage right. Daniel and what’s-her-face are going to enter from stage left. You’ll meet for your photo op in the middle, and then Ken will introduce Daniel’s reading. Everyone but Daniel will exit the way they came, and then you’re free to do whatever you decide is best.”

It is an excellent plan, if everyone can behave themselves. I see Daniel reach the stage, say a few words, and then he and Alison go to the wings at stage left. She tries to reach out to him, but he shakes her off and stalks ahead of her. She follows him, her high-heeled shoes clicking quickly to catch up.

“Thanks, Jenny,” I say, entirely sincere.

She smiles sadly. “It’s about time to open the doors. Let’s get you backstage.”

She walks with me down the aisle and up the stairs to the side of the stage just as the doors open and people start filing in. I can see the first few rows fill up with my students, and I’m surprised at how many stayed after school for this. I see Kathy and Aimee Olsen take a seat in the front row, and Justin and Warren file in after them. Haze comes in and takes a seat a few rows back, and a girl I don’t know slides in after them, sitting one seat away. When their eyes meet, she moves a seat closer, and they both smile. Isabel is out there, too, with a copy of one of Daniel’s books clutched to her chest. The district superintendent and assistant superintendent, along with our principal and assistant principal, also take their seats.

I can hear a lot of voices. Apparently, the promise of a free reading by Daniel Evans is a big draw on a Friday afternoon. Normally, something like this would make me nervous, but I find I don’t have the energy or brain power to feel even a little anticipation. Without thinking, I look across the stage to where Daniel is standing. Alison is as close to him as she can be without touching him, but he is staring at me, his gray-blue eyes gleaming in the light of the stage. I frown slightly and shake my head imperceptibly. His expression shifts to one of apology. I shrug, but I see her lean in and whisper something in his ear. His shoulder ticks up slightly and he leans his head toward it as if he is flinching away from a buzzing fly. He frowns at her, and she tries to lean in and kiss him. He recoils so completely that he brushes into the curtain, causing it to shake and sway. Alison crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. She looks like a petulant child. I wish I could laugh, but it feels like there’s an empty hole in my chest where my heart used to be.

As Ken starts his introduction, I quickly look away and don’t look back. Ken announces my name first, and I come onstage. My students start whooping and yelling my name, and I can’t help but smile. I stand on stage to the right of Ken, but as I look out at the audience, my smile turns disinterested and forced. I hear the click of a camera from the front of the auditorium.

When Ken introduces Daniel and Alison, my students yell his name, too, and they walk out to stand to the left of Ken. I see him lean over to smile tentatively at me, but I keep looking straight ahead. There are a few more camera clicks as my principal and superintendent join us on stage. Everything is quiet for a few moments as we all stand there, smiling mindlessly and without mirth.

Ken thanks us, and I try to keep my steps measured as I walk back off stage while he starts his introduction of Daniel. I stand looking out over the stage, and I see him smiling at the audience with his hands folded behind his back. I know that if everything had gone as planned, I would be filled with a sense of pride for how this man had overcome some serious imposter syndrome to finish another novel, and I would have been so excited to hear a piece of it because, even in all our time together, he hasn’t shared a word. With my part of it done, though, the shock is wearing off and all I can feel is a hot nugget of anger burning deep in my belly.

Daniel takes the microphone as Ken walks offstage to take his seat next to the other administrators. “Thank you, Ken. And thank you to everyone for being here today. This novel is special to me in a very different way than my other books. Maybe that’s because it truly was a group effort. I could not have finished this book without the help and expertise of Miss Mackenzie Milcrest. She is a brilliant teacher in every sense of the word, and while she was imparting wisdom to her students, she was also teaching me not only what it means to be a teacher, but what it means to be an integral part of a community of scholars who truly care about one another. Can we please give her one more round of applause?”

He motions toward where I’m standing and his fingers move to beckon me onstage again, though I doubt anyone in the audience can tell that’s what he’s doing. His face falls slightly when I shake my head. He’s still looking at me as I make a split-second decision, turn on my heel, and walk out the stage door to the hallway. I don’t stop walking until I get to my car, and mercifully, the tears don’t start until I’m halfway home.