Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1) by Emily Kazmierski (summer reads .txt) 📗

whirl at Esau’s voice. He’s standing right behind me, arms crossed, dark eyes on my friend. How long has he been standing there?

“I know,” Marisa says again, cowed. Her long hair falls forward over her shoulders, partially shielding the embarrassment scrawled across her face. “I’m almost there.”

“Megan has everyone’s lines memorized, and she’s not even in the play.” Esau’s large, brown hand creates a gentle cup over my shoulder. I’m surprised and pleased by the touch, but in this moment it feels like a betrayal of Marisa to side with him. I shrug the hand away, twisting in my seat to look up into his face.

“Why don’t I take her for a walk around campus? We’ll wind down a little. Go over lines. We won’t be gone long.”

“That sounds amazing.” Marisa clasps her hands to her chest. “Can we go?” She bats her eyes at Esau.

I hide a smile behind my hand at her exaggerated pleading.

Esau grunts and walks away, shaking his head.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say at the same time Marisa says, “Yes! Let’s go.”

She grabs my hand and pulls me out of the theater building. Outside, the air is beginning to cool. The valley’s summer heat is giving way to the crisp of autumn. The days of skinny jeans and cute jackets are coming and I am so ready.

Away from the high pressure of the theater, Marisa relaxes. We cross the dry grass to sit under a sapling that tries valiantly to provide enough shade for the two of us. At my prompting, Marisa begins her lines from the top, and I play the other roles in the scene. We go through the entire thing a few times until she gets it, smiling once we’ve finished.

“Finally,” she says, raising her hands in victory. “I didn’t think I’d ever get through this.”

“You nailed it just now.”

Marisa picks up a fallen leaf between two fingers and twirls it. “You don’t have to say that. I know I’m holding everyone back.”

“Nobody thinks that,” I say too quickly. The grass pokes at my bare calves, making them start to itch. I shift to sit with my knees up and arms slung around my shins.

“You’re sweet. Maybe you should take my role, since it all comes so easily to you.” Her tone belies her words, as if she doesn’t really want me to replace her. She wants a little carefully placed flattery.

The door to the theater swings open and Esau peers out. When he sees us, he meets my eyes. I wave him off and he goes back inside.

Marisa stares after him.

“Hey, don’t worry about him. You did beautifully just now. Besides, it doesn’t all come easy for me either. I’ve just done the play before.”

“Still.” She tosses the leaf, and it floats away on a breeze.

My hackles rise at the hint of frustration in her voice. “If this is about Esau, I—”

“Don’t. This isn’t about him.”

“It’s just that, I thought you might like him and I didn’t expect—”

“I told you it’s not about Esau. I don’t like him like that.” Marisa jumps up and brushes the bits of leaves and grass from the skirt of her costume.

“You don’t? But Marisa, I’ve seen the way you look at him.” I shove off the ground too.

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

We do another lap around the gym, her staring at the grass and me at the empty path ahead. If she doesn’t have a crush on him, then why is she so weird around him?

Finally, Marisa sighs. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I get carried away sometimes. The pressure of having such a big part and all.”

“Sure.” I remember what that was like. Almost miss it a little. “So you aren’t madly in love with our director?”

Marisa laughs outright. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just that, he picked me for this role, and I don’t want to disappoint him. You know?”

“Ah. Well, you’re doing great. By the time opening night comes, you’ll have it down perfectly. The audience will thrill at your brilliance.”

“Liar.” We both laugh at my hyperbole.

“You think I’d lie about something as serious as the theater?” I throw my forearm up to my forehead, exaggerating the gesture Viv makes when she’s pretending to be a diva fashion designer behind her sewing machine.

Marisa sighs as her giggles subside. “It feels so good to be out of that black box. I almost wish… never mind.”

“What? You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing. Really.”

My lips purse. I’ve only known Marisa for a few weeks, so I shouldn’t be surprised that she’s not ready to spill her guts to me, but it still sends a pang of dismay through my core. “We should probably get back before Esau sends out the dogs.”

Marisa shoots a sly smile my way. “He’d send them out for me definitely, but something tells me he’d let you off easier. What’s going on there?”

I swallow, not sure what to say.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh so something is going on between you two. Fiona was so right! Tell me. Have you guys kissed yet?” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Uh… Well…”

“How was it?”

“I think we should go back to running lines.”

Marisa curtseys. “Whatever you say.”

We’re almost back to the theater when I hear it: the rumble of a trash can being emptied. It could be Justin. As far as I know he still works at the school since Sheriff Lamb couldn’t find any hint of wrongdoing, but I haven’t seen him. I have to be sure. Maybe if he’s still working at the school, I can sneak over to his house to snoop around while he’s not home.

Marisa calls after me as I edge around the big square building until I spot it: the janitor’s cart parked on the walkway outside of one of the classrooms. I draw in a breath. Tiptoe closer. The room door is propped open by a beat-up wood block. A sharp scent hits my nose, making my throat close. A tall, overweight man bends