UNDERSTUDY
By Denise Kim Wy
Copyright ©Denise Kim Wy, 2013
Cover design by Denise Kim Wy of CoverAtelier.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author, except that brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews are permitted.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
For Dai,
I finished it.
Also by Denise Kim Wy
Please Stay
BEHIND THE STORY: Interviews From 20 Self-Published Authors Who Made it BIG
Prologue
I may have done a lot of stupid things in my life, but never in my wildest dreams have I imagined myself celebrating my birthday in jail.
It didn't help that my best friend, Anthony, also the person responsible for this unfortunate mishap, was stoned. I kind of envied him though. I bet he wouldn't remember anything about tonight when he woke up tomorrow, and nothing spelled relief like ignorance. Lucky bastard.
"Dude, sup?" he asked, laughing as he spoke.
"Shut up, shithead."
"Did you see that officer's face?" he asked, ignoring the fact that I just called him a shithead. He was too stoned. I bet he hadn't even realized we were in a cell. "Dude, he looks like Jeremy Lin!"
The Asian cop glared at us. He did look like Jeremy Lin. But I decided not give Anthony the satisfaction of agreeing with him. He was the one who got us into this mess, yet I was the one panicking.
"Have you called your lawyer?" I asked.
Anthony narrowed his bloodshot eyes at me, confused. "Where's Tom Sawyer?"
"You're fucking useless!"
"Hey, do you kiss your grandma with that dirty mouth of yours?" He started laughing again.
We were screwed.
I closed my eyes and commanded myself to take deep and even breaths. I shouldn't have called Adam. I should've called Higgins instead. He could've gotten us out of here in no time, though that meant calling my parents as well. Then again, they would have heard about it sooner or later anyway.
As for Adam, he could've saved my ass for old time's sake. It was also our birthday, he should've considered that. But maybe that was it. He was pissed that I forgot to greet him. But I did try calling him after he hung up the first time, but he wouldn't answer his phone. Such a sensitive guy.
"Mr. Wharton?"
I looked up to see Higgins standing outside the cell staring down at me. On second thought, maybe I judged Adam too soon.
I scrambled to my feet and rubbed my eyes, making sure I wasn't just hallucinating. Higgins cocked an eyebrow.
"You are one lucky bastard," the Jeremy Lin look−a−like officer said, unlocking the cell.
Yeah, tell me about it.
"Watch your words, officer or you’ll end up the unlucky bastard behind those bars," Higgins said coldly, giving the officer an icy stare that made the asshole shuffle back to his desk without saying another word. It was one of the reasons why Dad hired him. Aside from being one of the country's top lawyers, Jacob Higgins was intimidating as hell.
I stepped out of the cell and took a deep breath.
"Thanks, Higgins," I said, clapping him over the shoulder, which felt like slapping concrete.
Higgins’s gaze lingered on Anthony's slumped figure, his brow furrowing. "What about your friend?"
"What about him?" I asked, straightening my shirt. As much as I wanted to help Anthony, I thought it best to let him stay a little longer. He needed it.
"Did Adam call you?" I asked.
Higgins hesitated before answering, his expression guarded. "No, it was your father actually."
I knew it. Adam just couldn't resist being a telltale.
"I'm in big trouble, aren't I?"
"You are, though the good news is that I doubt that your parents would even reprimand you for this latest stunt of yours."
"Why not?" I couldn't help but smile. "My father wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. He made it his life's mission to remind me how huge a disappointment I am in this family."
"Well, if that's the case then it will have to wait."
"Why?"
Higgins handed me my phone, his expression stoic. "You have to go back to Highcrest at once."
That was never good news.
Chapter One
Kat
"Looks like someone woke extra cheerful this morning."
I looked up from my cereal bowl and saw Dad peering up from his morning paper, grinning at me.
"What's up my little princess? Did you dream about flying ponies and singing blue birds?"
I rolled my eyes but I allowed myself to smile. I was in too good of a mood to come up with a smart comeback. "I'm just thankful I'm alive today," I said, knowing all too well that it sounded like something straight out of a self−help book.
It was Dad's turn to roll his eyes.
"We both know that teenagers are in a perpetual state where they believe that life sucks," he said, folding the newspaper and placing it beside his plate, crossword already done.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I don't buy it. You're supposed to be angsty. You can't be happy you're alive today."
"Actually, she is," Mom interjected, pouring Dad his second cup of coffee, filling it to the brim. "It's her hubby's birthday today." She sauntered behind my chair to refill my cup. She was wearing the apron I gave her last Christmas, the one with a painted orange kitten sporting a punk leather jacket. I got an easy A in art class for that one.
Dad's eyes widened. "Oh, is that right?"
“Oh, yes it is," Mom said, answering for me, taking her seat at the other end of the table. "You know how Kat gets when her significant other celebrates his birthday. It's like she's celebrating her own."
"Yeah, I noticed that," Dad said, cringing a bit. "So, what are you getting him for this special day?"
I felt myself flush. For months, I had racked my brain to come up with the ultimate birthday present. But I couldn't think of anything.
Adam's family was well off. Actually, that was an understatement. His family owned a bunch of diners scattered all over the country, meaning he was freaking rich. There was nothing Adam couldn't buy, which made it hard to think of something I could get for him.
Asking Sara was no help either. She said that she was my best friend, not a problem solver, and that Adam wasn't her boyfriend. She actually had a point.
I could've whipped up some artsy stuff. That was one thing I'm good at. But instead, I succumbed to cliché, and as much as I hated myself for it, it was the best thing that I came up with.
“I made a mix CD of his favorite songs."
Mom and Dad exchanged weird looks and I felt myself shrinking in my seat. "I know, okay? It's dumb! I should've gone for the giant mosaic made up of our pictures or whatever...but hey, at least I exerted some effort for the album cover and−"
"Calm down, Kat," Dad said, cutting me off. "We wouldn’t care if you decided to give him an empty candy wrapper for a present. We just want to make sure that you're not giving him, you know, something else."
I gaped at him, confused. He scratched his chin, and I could tell that something was up.
Mom was a terrible actress, and to prove it, she immediately averted her gaze as soon as our eyes met. Yes, Dad's on to something alright.
"I don't get it," I said. “What am I missing here?”
Mom took a sip of her coffee, her hazel eyes focusing on something behind me. "Well, honey, we were just worried that you might decide on something that you thought you might want to do when you actuall
y don't."
"Huh?"
Dad cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable. "What your Mom is trying to say is that, you shouldn't do what other kids your age do. We understand that your generation is much more curious about stuff−"
"Woah, Dad, stop right there!" I finally understood what he was trying to say, and I didn't like it one bit. "Are you giving me The Talk over breakfast?"
Dad's jaw tightened as he pressed his lips together. My parents may be a little different, or should I say, weird. Dad's a history teacher in our town's middle school, and he knew how to interact with kids in their various stages of maturity. Yet there were times that I actually felt like he was treating me as one of his students, or better yet, a social experiment.
Mom, on the other hand, was a former editor for the local newspaper. She was a good writer, and she had a dry sense of humor that was so dry you'd get dehydrated. At least that was what Dad and my grandparents told me. She often expressed her opinions in a tactless manner; it was no surprise she made quite a lot of enemies during her career, though Dad told me that she kind of mellowed when they got married. She quit her job when she got pregnant with me and she's now running her own blog about...Actually, I don't really know.
Anyway, the point is, my parents were different. At least that's how I see them. Profanities were allowed in our home as long as it was just an expression and not some sort of a personal attack. Arguments were encouraged as long as we respected each other's opinions, and curfew was more of a concept rather than something being implemented. Even so, I realized that when it came to The Talk, they weren't immune to the awkwardness it brings.
"I'm not having sex with Adam, if that's what you're thinking," I said. Hearing those words coming out of my lips gave me goose-bumps. Then turning to my mom, I added, "And we won't. Well, not until the time comes or whatever. Just...Let's not talk about this."
"That's what other kids say," Dad muttered under his breath. "They even wear matching chastity bracelets and−"
"Thomas!" Mom exclaimed. "Stop it. I told you this was a bad idea."
"Yeah, it is," I agreed, emphatically.
Dad's shoulders relaxed and it was evident that he wanted to close the subject altogether. "Well, at least bring a condom with you today."
Or maybe not.
"DAD!"
"THOMAS!"
"What?" Dad stared at us innocently. "I'm just being practical. As the saying goes, if you can't beat 'em, educate them."
"It's join them, Dad," I said, pushing my unfinished breakfast away from me.
"I can't join you guys." His bushy eyebrows went up and down it was almost comical. "Well, if you know what I mean."
Maybe Dad was immune after all.
"Eww, gross, Dad! You do realize I can like report you for child molestation, right?"
Mom shook her head. "Yeah, I actually married that guy."
Dad held up his hands in mock surrender. "That was a joke for crying out loud!"
Just then I heard Adam's car outside our house and sighed in relief.
"Okay, he's here and I'm out." I stood up and raced toward the living room to grab my backpack. I took a quick glance at my reflection as I passed by the mirror in the hallway and frowned when I saw that my hair fell in a tangled mess over my shoulders. I needed a freaking haircut. I raked my fingers through it; maybe I could go for the bed head look? Or maybe not. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked over to our front door. As soon as I swung it open, Adam's smiling face greeted me.
"Good morning," he said.
"Happy birthday!" I said.
"Thank you."
He was wearing a navy blue shirt, knowing that I loved how the color complemented his sandy brown hair.
I closed the gap between us, pressing my body into his, taking in his scent of freshly baked bread.
"Have you been baking again?" I asked.
"Maybe," he whispered, his lips curling up in a mysterious smile. He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss which I reciprocated willingly.
"Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Vanburgh," Adam said, pulling me beside him as soon as my parents walked to the front door.
"Good morning, Adam," Mom said, returning his smile. Dad was smiling too, though I wasn't really sure if he was happy to see Adam, or he was still thinking about his earlier joke.
"Happy birthday, young lad!" Dad said, extending his hand towards Adam for a handshake.
Adam's eyes widened ever so slightly though he immediately regained his composure and shook Dad’s hand. "Thank you, sir."
Mom and I exchanged knowing looks, and I couldn't help but notice her long fingernails digging against Dad skin.
"Okay, I think we should go now, we'll be late for school," I said, pushing Adam to get him moving along.
He turned toward my parents and waved at them. "Bye Mr. and Mrs. Vanburgh!"
"Have a nice day kids, and be safe!" Dad called out as the door shut behind us. I sighed in relief.
"They know?" Adam asked, looping his arm around my waist as we headed to his car. He had brought his Jeep instead of the Porsche and I made a mental note to ask him about it.
"Yes, and I'm sorry about that."
"Sorry about what? Your parents are cool! You must be having a hell of a good time when you're at home."
"Yeah, like you have no idea," I said, though I immediately remembered that unlike me, Adam's parents weren't around most of the time.
He helped me climb into the passenger seat and I waited until he was seated beside me. "Are we going on a road trip? I thought you hated driving this monster to school?"
Adam grinned, showing his cute little dimple, and I had to stop myself from giggling out loud. "This is a special day right? We're having fun tonight. We’re going on an adventure!"
Having fun? Of course we would, that was a given. But I suddenly felt uncomfortable as I remembered the awkward conversation I had with Dad earlier.
"Speaking of a special day, I am expecting to receive something special today," Adam said, bobbing his eyebrows up and down.
My heart started hammering in response. Was he...? No, Adam wasn't that kind of guy. We hadn't made any promises or worn any chastity bracelets, but there was an unspoken rule between us about having sex. At least that's what I thought.
The sound of the Jeep's roaring engine made me jump and Adam's soft chuckle filled my ears.
"What's the matter? Had a lot of coffee this morning?"
"No," I said, biting my lip as I considered opening the subject of that special thing. Maybe it was time we started talking about it.
Adam placed his hand on my knee and I felt myself stiffen. He kept his eyes on the road but he obviously sensed my unease. "Hey, Kat, what's wrong?"
My hands felt cold and it was as if my heart had climbed up my throat. "Well, about that special thing," I began, keeping my eyes fixed on the hand over my knee. "I just want−"
"Geez, Kat, I'm just messing with you!"
My head snapped up. He was suppressing laughter. "I don't really care if you have a birthday present for me or not. Of course it would be great if you have, but as I’ve told you before, I'd rather you don't."
"Wait, we're talking about your birthday present, right? Like a gift? Something physical and tangible wrapped in a special but unnecessary piece of decorated paper, right?" I asked.
"Err, that's kind of detailed," he said, giving me a sidelong glance to see if I had gone crazy. "But if that's how you put it then...yeah."
Relief washed through me. Of course that's what he was talking about. What was wrong with me?
"Why?" Adam asked. "What did you think I was talking about?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't. Yet, like the way he knew that something was wrong even when he wasn't looking at me, Adam understood. That was one thing I loved about him; he knew me too well.
"Wait." His eyes widened as his lips curled up into my favorite smile. "Are you..."
"Stop it, A
dam."
"Oh no you're not."
"Adam, I−"
"How could you?"
"It's not like−"
"Pervert!"
I smacked his shoulder and he started laughing. I tried to look annoyed, but his laughter was infectious. I ended up laughing with him, or rather, at my stupidity.
We laughed until our stomachs hurt, and it gradually died down into soft chuckles. Adam grabbed my hand and linked our fingers together. They fitted perfectly, like a glove.
"I actually do have a birthday present for you."
"Oh, so you're really going for it, huh?"
"Shut up, I'm being serious here."
"For real?"
"Yes."
"What is it?" His gaze travelled down to the backpack resting on my lap, and his face brightened with childlike eagerness. "Can I open it now?"
"Later. We have a lot of time."
Adam frowned.
"It's nothing much. It's actually stupid."
"Nothing you do is stupid, Kat," he said, shifting to a serious tone, making my face heat up. "Except for the one you pulled awhile ago."
"Oh, shut up!"
Adam laughed as he took a sharp turn around the corner, and I just watched him as he drove the rest of the way toward school.
***
The parking lot was almost full and we were lucky enough to find a vacant spot. It had begun drizzling and people were scrambling for cover. We probably had five minutes before first period and I was about to get out of the car when Adam pulled on my hand.
"Katharine."
My ears perked up on hearing him call me by my whole first name. He seldom used it. In fact, nobody called me by my complete first name except Mr. Blake, our English teacher, who fondly called me Katharine Hepburn, and my parents, when they were being really serious, which was rarely.
I turned to face him and a small smile spread across his face. "About earlier Kat, about that... thing," he began.
I groaned. "Oh, Adam−"
He pressed a finger over my lips and I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut.
Understudy Page 1