You were in the play, correct? The Friday before the incident?
Yep.
Z was there.
He had the lead role. Turns out he was quite the thespian.
You sound bitter.
Oh no. I enjoy some healthy competition now and then.
Did he get along with everyone in the cast?
It’s hard to imagine him not getting along with anyone.
And what about Victoria Zell?
Victoria? Oh, you mean Lady Macbeth.
Yes. What was their relationship outside of the play?
None.
None?
Quite honestly, I don’t know. That girl was a bit of an enigma. We thespians have a few screws loose, for certain. So she probably could’ve fit in. But she kept to herself.
So they didn’t have a relationship, or you didn’t know about it?
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Z surprised me. I think he quite liked to surprise people.
—Police interview with Quincy Laughlin, senior at St. Ann’s
The thought of getting the part of Lady Macbeth both thrilled and terrified me. I was scared stiff at the thought of performing in front of an audience, but at the same time, I could imagine a scene where, in the heat of the moment, Macbeth pulls Lady Macbeth into an embrace and delivers a passionate kiss. I wondered how Z kissed, if he did it perfectly, the way he did everything else. I knew that would be my only way to experience it—on the stage, as part of a performance, since we were both attached to other people.
Andrew, I knew you wouldn’t mind, as a fan of the stage. And I also knew that Parker and a slew of other girls at school would probably jump at the chance to be kissed by Z. They’d all be so jealous! Still, my palms got all sweaty because kissing a person was scary enough—but kissing Z? In front of all those people? Then I started to wonder… Was there even a make-out scene in Macbeth? Maybe I was spending all this time worrying about it for nothing.
For the rest of the night, I kept thinking of his hand on my knee. How nice it felt, in a protective, big brother way. I wondered if he liked it too. I went to sleep repeating his last words over and over to myself: I think you’d like being center stage, and it’s my mission to get you to try it. I tried to get the play out of my head, but couldn’t. In my nightmares, Parker got the part, and I had to watch her making out with Z.
So a combination of emotions flooded me the next morning when I walked past the gymnasium doors and saw my name posted on the very top of the page, right under Z’s. Relief. Excitement. Fear.
I’d gotten the part.
I was going to play Lady Macbeth, and Z would be playing my husband.
I walked to class that morning in a daze. For once in my life, I’d topped Parker. For once in her life, the principal’s perfect daughter wouldn’t be getting everything she wanted. I couldn’t believe it.
Z was uncharacteristically early. When I arrived in the classroom, he was already there. Usually I was the one waiting for him. I beamed at him. “I can’t believe it,” I said, still numb.
For some reason, Z looked nervous. “I can. I told you. I knew you’d get it,” he said in a monotone, staring at his phone.
I’d assumed that after he’d earned the lead, he’d be a little happier. “Congratulations to you too,” I said.
He kept thumbing his phone and murmured, “On what?” Then his mouth opened and he looked up. “Oh, right. Thanks.”
“You’re not happy? Quincy’s probably crying into his breakfast somewhere.”
He looked up. “It’s hardly worth getting worked up over, either way. It’s a fucking school play.”
“Oh.” My excitement fizzled. Right. It was just a stupid school play. It wasn’t Broadway. “Then why’d you try out?”
He shrugged, looking back at his phone. “Why not?”
What had happened to the playful and flirtatious Z who had dropped me off the night before? I think you’d like it better center stage.
As if he could read my thoughts, he smiled. “Ah, little Vic. Sorry. I don’t mean to be an asshole. Just…” He tapped his phone. “There is so much of the wide world you know nothing about.”
My cheeks reddened. I thought about what he’d said: It’s my mission to get you to try it. Try what? Why did he have to be so cryptic? “You could maybe fill me in,” I suggested.
He opened his mouth to reply, but the bell rang.
Reese glided into the room. She said, “I’m sure the news is all over the school, but in case you haven’t heard, Z and Victoria will be playing Macbeth and Lady Macbeth in the play!” She’d never sounded quite so excited before. I doubted the news was all over the school. Maybe in her warped world it would have been, but aside from Quincy and a few others, the vast majority of students at St. Ann’s could give a rat’s ass about drama. Reese clapped her hands together and extended her hands, presenting us like we were refrigerators on The Price is Right. “Congratulate them!”
The class turned and mumbled halfhearted congratulations. Most of them looked at Z, not me. Roger Falcon, a baseball jock, high-fived Z. A girl in the front of the room cheered, “Go, Z!” The only person who really paid any attention to me was Parker. Her glare lingered on me for what seemed like hours.
Reese went on and on about what a performance it was going to be, and how talented this year’s cast was, and—for a split second—I thought that things might be different between us. That Reese might treat me the way she treated Z.
That didn’t last. A few minutes into the lesson, she called on me to define eleemosynary and gave me a glare that rivaled Parker’s when I drew a complete blank.
Somehow, I’d thought that being Z’s friend would make me visible. That being next to him would finally put me on the map and make people who once detested or ignored me give me a second chance.
So far, that was not the case.
Now, instead of liking me because he liked me, they were almost more wary of me.
But that was OK. They were just jealous. Like Parker.
I was prepared for more icy glares from her during chemistry. And I got them. But I ignored them. What I didn’t understand though was when she leaned over at the end of class while I was gathering my books and whispered, “He bought Reese.”
Before I could ask Parker what that meant, she was gone.