Me, You, & The Party Rock Crew

“These kind of wounds they last…and time can heal, but this won’t. So if you’re coming my way, just don’t.” -Bad Blood, Taylor Swift, 2014.

“Please welcome the freshman class of 2013 to the Aspen Brook High Theatre Program!” Mrs. Wallaby beamed from the stage, arms outstretched. Her outfit made her look like a rainbow turkey. 

The whole room clapped, some half-heartedly, some genuinely. Izzie clapped too, though her eyes snagged on a girl near the front. A freshman. Pretty, put-together, with ice blue eyes. Too icy…and too put-together. 

Their gazes met. 

The girl smiled, bright, polite–but her eyes didn’t match. Flat, calculating, and for a split second, Izzie could’ve sworn they weren’t blue at all, but green. She blinked, unsettled. Eyes don’t just change colors. Still, something in her stomach knotted. 

Weird. 

Izie slipped into a seat with the juniors, where Xandra Mirakova leaned close. “This is a humiliation ritual,” she muttered. Her sandy waves bounced as she shook her head. 

“I’ll say,” Izzie smirked, earning a sharp shush from an upperclassman, AJ, to be specific. Xandra’s green-eyed glare nearly melted him into his seat. 

After the ceremony, the chatter shifted backstage. Scripts, costumes, rumors of what the winter play would be. Izzie perched on a work table, ignoring the sawdust on her bright blue overalls. 

“Yo, Izzie!” Edgar–better known as Poe–strode in, transformed from nerd to heartthrob over the summer. She grinned, hopping down to fist-bump him. 

“Poe!!” 

He laughed, leaning on the table. “Glad you’re back. Think theatre’ll mess with soccer practice?” 

“Nah, zero-hour gym. Coach gave me the pass.” 

“Perfect. We need our lumber fairy this year,’ he teased, his eyes were warm. 

Before Izzie could fire back, the freshman girl stepped up. Burgundy-brown hair, Converse to match Izzie’s, those same icy eyes. 

“Hey! Nice Converse,” Izzie offered with a smile. 

The girl narrowed her eyes before forcing a smile. “Thanks.” 

“Damn, lighten up, Laney, she’s just being nice,” Poe laughed. The girl’s face turned crimson. 

“You know her?” Izzie asked with genuine curiosity. 

“Yeah–” Poe began. 

“Elaine. We went to school together,” she jumped in, extending a hand. 

“Sup. Isabella–or Izzie,” Izzie replied warmly, squeezing just a little harder than necessary. 

But Elaine’s gaze flickered past her–to Poe–and then to Simon, who swept in and threw an arm over Izzie’s shoulders with mock possessiveness. The boys joked, Izzie rolled her eyes, but when she glanced back, Izzie was still watching and not smiling. Studying. 

It sent a chill down her spine. 

*******

Weeks later, rehearsal chaos filled the shop. Izzie danced with a broom to Chim Chim Cher-ee until Hatter called her over to help with rigging. She tightened a set of loose knots–Abuelo’s knot lessons still saving her–and snapped a picture for Xandra. 

Xandra: Beautiful knot work! This is perfect! 

By dinner break, she was heading to Sonic with Hatter to meet up with the rest of the construction crew when she spotted Elaine lingering. 

“Elaine! We’re all going–wanna come?” 

Elaine’s polite smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Can’t. I’ve got assistant director duties. Someone has to care about safety.” 

Hatter scowled at the condescension, but Izzie just shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

Elaine’s eyes followed them out. Watching. Measuring. Burning. 

********

When the cast returned, the department heads, and Mrs. Wellerby stood ominously on stage. Trouble. 

“Who had a hand in this rig?” Mrs. Wellerby shrieked, pointing to the main fly system. 

Hatter rose. Izzie stood beside him. “We tied that rig. It was secure–” 

“Both of you are out of this show and are facing suspension. Principal’s office. Now.” 

Gasps ripped. Izzie’s face burned. Hatter’s jaw dropped. Someone untied it. 

“Are you kidding me?” He said quietly. 

“I said I have proof!” Izzie’s voice cracked across the auditorium, hands shaking. Murmurs rippled through the rows of students. 

“Leave. Now!” 

“You won’t even give us a chance to explain? Someone untied our rig!” Her words hung in the air, sharp and desperate. 

The doors creaked open–Xandra had arrived just in time to hear as she had gone to grab Mr. Erikson, the department head for the construction crew. 

“I have the picture right here on my phone, too,” she added. 

“Of course you’d cover for your friend,” Wellerby snapped. 

“Patty, just hear them out–” Mr. Erikson began. 

“Out. Now!” She pointed to the door. 

Izzie shook her head at Xandra before she could argue further. “It’s not worth it. We’ll go.” 

She and Hatter stood. As Izzie turned, she caught it–a flash of a grin from Elaine. Quick, cruel, gone in an instant. Rage flared so hot she nearly spun back to throttle her. But suspension–or worse–wasn’t worth it. Not yet. 

By the time they hit the hallway, Izzie’s face was wet. Hatter wiped at his own eyes. 

“Whoever did that…wasn’t cool, man. We worked so hard.” 

“I know,” she whispered. 

Simon and some of the paint crew rounded the corner. She wiped at her tears, Hatter doing the same. 

“Hey Iz–what happened?” Simon rushed to her. 

“We’re out of the show. Facing potential suspension for endangering the cast.” 

“What? How?” 

“Someone untied the rig. The main one that Mary needs to use to float in.” 

“Who?”

“We don’t know,” Hatter muttered. 

“Maybe Jesse being an idiot,” Simon offered. 

“Or Elaine,” Izzie said, low. 

Simon blinked. “Elaine? Come on, Iz–she’d break a nail doing that.” 

“Then why did she smirk at me as we got kicked out?” Izzie’s words shot like glass. 

Simon froze, then his expression softened at the pain in her eyes. 

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Then we find out who really did it. One of the freshmen on paint must’ve seen something.” 

Hatter exhaled, heading toward the office. “Right.” 

Simon squeezed Izzie’s shoulder. His green eyes were soft, like a jade pendant. “You’ll be back in no time.” 

“I hope so.”