The Stand-In: my life as an understudy

by Elizabeth Stevens

  “I just wanted to finish our conversation from yesterday. Govi kinda killed it with the song competition.”

  I nodded absently. “Sure. What conversation?”

  “If everything was okay after Friday.”

  I blinked. “We didn’t finish that?”

  He shook his head, suppressing a smile. “We didn’t.”

  “Ah. Right. Okay. What about it?”

  “Well, I think you left it at some unfinished sentences about me and Ella. It didn’t really fill me with confidence…” he petered off and seemed to wait for me to pick up the thread of the sentence.

  “Um… That sounds like me,” I muttered, trying to remember what I’d been trying to say to him.

  “I think you were trying to say something about how your job was done and after me and Ella…something…?” he pressed and I managed to remember the gist of my ramblings.

  My head was filled with so many other things that day that I even managed full sentences.

  “Right. Just… Yes, everything’s…fine,” I told him as I pulled my bag further up my shoulder. “I just figured that now Ella’s got her wish, there was no need for you and me to…” I trailed off, not quite sure what I was trying to say now.

  “What?” he asked. “Talk? Be friends?”

  I opened my mouth, closed it, then found the courage to push on. “Were we friends though? Really?”

  He looked me over like I’d betrayed him or something. “I know I’m a bit of a dick, but I didn’t realise I wasn’t worth your friendship.”

  Now I felt like the dick. “I didn’t mean…” I sighed. “It was a legitimate question, Eli. In case you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t got a lot of friends. This is largely due to my inability to accept that people might want to be my friend so I never presume to think of them as a friend until they’ve been around for like at least five years. It’s nothing personal.” I sniffed, feeling a little embarrassed I exposed so much of myself there.

  “We’re really not that different,” he said softly. “But I thought we were friends.”

  I looked around the corridor nervously, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck tingle, begging me to turn around and confront the threat. But I was pretty sure there was nothing there, so I tried not to fidget the tingling away.

  “I get you’re not interested, Clo. I won’t push it, and I’m sorry if I did.”

  I nodded, chewing on my lip in agitation. “I… Look, that’s not the…” I sighed. “That was never the problem. Ella’s the–”

  “Ella can do or think whatever the hell she wants. I couldn’t care less,” he said and I quailed.

  “No,” I whispered. “No. Please care very much. For the sake of my skin and my sanity, please care very much. Much. Much more.” I shook my head. “Like, right up there…”

  I realised I was babbling and stopped myself. I looked up to find him looking down at me in concern, and I laughed self-consciously.

  “Sorry…” I breathed, then cleared my throat and tried again. “Sorry. But I just…”

  “Can’t use full sentences anymore?” he teased gently.

  I pressed my lips together to stop more babble and shook my head again. “My life is…” I paused to think about it. “My life is absurd. Talking about it out loud sounds ridiculous. I just… My sister can make my life hell. No, I’m exaggerating. She’s just annoying and mean, and had I not been a doormat for all those years maybe they wouldn’t expect me to do everything they do and then act all surprised and incensed when I don’t want to. I don’t know, but what I do know is that I have twelve months before I’m free and I’d like to make those the easiest twelve months I can. So can we please care very much about what Ella thinks or does?”

  Eli’s eyes searched my face for a moment. Still there was no sign of teasing or disbelief, no hint of ‘is she for real?’ or ‘that’s nuts’. He chewed on his bottom lip as he seemed to look for something, then finally nodded.

  “Okay. Okay. For you, and you only, I will care very much what Ella thinks or does.”

  I sighed in relief, then tensed. “No. Not just for me. That is the worst possible reason!”

  “Well it’s that or nothing.” He shrugged unapologetically.

  I sighed then nodded. “Okay. Fine.”

  “Does this mean we’re friends again?”

  I looked around quickly. “As long as Ella doesn’t feel…anything in the cold, dark cockles of her heart, then yes.”

  Eli sniggered. “Anything?”

  “In humans and animals, it’s known as emotion. Most commonly we call this feeling jealous or threatened,” I told him sarcastically.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Eli answered, trying not to laugh.

  I rolled my eyes at myself. “No. That’s not fair. I shouldn’t say such shitty things.”

  “Why not? It sounds like she’s not very nice to you.”

  I nodded. “This is true. But me being rude about her does nothing but drag me down to her level.”

  “So this is you taking the high road, is it?” he asked.

  I scrunched my nose as I thought about it. “Maybe like…middle road at most.”

  He laughed. “Fair.”

  I smiled at him, then remembered I was already super late to class. “I need to go. I’m meant to be in class…” I said as I started backing away.

  He nodded. “Sorry to keep you.”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m…glad we had this chat.”

  Eli bit his lip as he inclined his head. “Yeah, me too.”

  I hurried off to class, sliding in practically unnoticed at the back and pulling out my script. I didn’t have any lines anyway – acting as, surprisingly, an understudy to one of the supporting characters.

  Ever does art imitate life, I thought to myself.

  ****

  By the meeting on Wednesday, I’d psyched myself into behaving normally around Eli again. It had taken a few awkward hellos, complete with blushing and laughing and incomplete sentences, but I’d managed it.

  I was one of the first to arrive as usual and was up the ladder working on branches when hands grabbed my waist and pretended to shake me.

  “Boo!” Govi laughed and I swatted him away.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” I accused, trying my best to frown at his boyish charm.

  His laughter gained a tinge of concern as he put his hands out. “Sorry. You okay?”

  I shook my head. “In my own little world, and you come and scare the bajeesus out of me.”

  “Well, one might be inclined to ask why you had the bajeesus in you to begin with.”

  His eyes went wide with excitement just before he tried to fit ‘bajeesus’ into ‘I’ve Got the Magic in Me’. To say it went well would be a gross exaggeration. But we were both in fits of giggles when Eli came up to us with Lake.

  “Funny?” Lake asked.

  Govi nodded wildly, trying to stem the laughter that was starting to make his eyes water. I took a deep breath and had a little more success explaining ourselves.

  “There was a thing about bajeesus and he tried changing it to ‘I’ve Got the Bajeesus in Me’ and it went…poorly,” I snorted.

  Eli tried to school his smile as Lake looked us over, doing his best unimpressed expression.

  “Do I want to know why Govi has the bajeesus in him?” Lake asked.

  “Because I scared it out of Gin!” Govi hooted, wiping his eyes.

  Lake nodded. “Okay. I’m going to see a man about some glue.”

  I looked up quickly. “You left Ramsey in charge of the mix?”

  Eli’s hand rested on my arm for a moment. “He promised he’d behave for you.”

  I smiled at him. “That’d be a first.”

  Eli snorted and took his hand off me slowly. “Yeah. I’ll go check on him.”

  I nodded. “Wise.”

  He grinned before following Lake over to where Ramsey was at
the table with his back to us.

  “Ha!” Ramsey yelled, jumping around quickly.

  Both Lake and Eli screamed and braced in surprise. But when they saw that Ramsey had nothing in his hands, they both had a moment where they pretended they hadn’t freaked out and were still totally cool.

  I sniggered and turned back to my work.

  Govi and the boys burst out into spontaneous song now and then as we worked, they had a few more rounds of their song competition. But I bowed out, deciding that if Rica wasn’t there – she rudely had other things to do of a Wednesday afternoon apparently – then I’d let it just be a band thing. After a brief grumble, they let it go.

  But at least they were productive while they squabbled good-naturedly and sang among themselves. I was on my second tree for the afternoon when Eli came over to bring me some more papier-mâché mix.

  “Gin, pass me that paintbrush?” Eli asked nonchalantly as he put it down.

  “Which one?”

  “By your elbow.”

  I looked at the top of the ladder. “My paintbrush?”

  “The one by your elbow,” he repeated with a nod.

  “Don’t you have your own?”

  Eli leant towards me in an attempt to reach past me. “Yes, but I need that paintbrush.”

  I laughed and tried to keep his hands off my paintbrush. “You have your own paintbrush!”

  “But I want that one.”

  “That’s mine!”

  “Here you can have mine.”

  I giggled as he brandished his in front of his face and pulled mine behind his back.

  “Stop dicking around,” I told him as I took the proffered paintbrush and bopped him on the nose.

  He grinned back at me. “I put it to you to stop dicking around.” He got very serious very quickly as he started wandering around. “We are doing very important busy work here, you know. No time for your shenanigans, young lady.”

  I pressed my lips together until I had my laugh under control. “Perhaps you shouldn’t lead young ladies astray?”

  Eli gasped, popping his head out from behind the tree. “I would not dare. Govi, would I dare?” he called.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but whatever it is I’m siding with Gin!” he called back from the other side of the miniature forest that was coming along quite nicely.

  “What?” Eli cried, his arms dropping to his side as he turned towards the sound of Govi’s voice. “Why?”

  “Because she doesn’t make me drum until my fingers bleed,” Govi called cheekily.

  “What do we say, Govi?” Ramsey yelled from whatever tree he was up.

  “I’ve got blisters on my fingers!” Govi cried dramatically and I snorted.

  “I swear that is not my bad,” Eli said, barely suppressing a smile and pointing at me like he dared me to think poorly of him.

  “What? The blisters or Govi?” I sassed.

  “Both,” he replied, his eyes shining with humour and everything about him was gorgeous and infectious and made it impossible to not feel light and bright and bubbly.

  My smile softened unbidden as we looked at each other.

  “Did I tell you how good these look?” he asked me, running his hand up the dry part of the tree.

  I pretended to think about it. “I’m not sure you did.”

  “I’m sure I did.”

  I shook my head. “I just can’t remember it.”

  He looked back at me and grinned. “Should I again?”

  I shrugged coyly. “Might jog my memory.”

  He snorted a short laugh as he bit his lip. Then he got a little serious again. But only a little. “They do look really good, Clo.”

  I looked around at them all. “It wasn’t just me,” I reminded him.

  He took my hand and I looked down at it. “And yet I doubt we’d have them without you.”

  Never one to be good at taking a compliment, I shook my head. “No. You’d probably have something better.”

  Eli’s smile grew wry and he shook his head. He squeezed my hand and said, “Take the damn compliment,” before walking away.

  I watched him go, feeling no guilt whatsoever about perving on his very fine arse as he went.

  “It doesn’t work!” I heard Ramsey say exasperatedly. “Stop trying to make it work!”

  “I’ve got the bajeesus in me,” Govi shouted defiantly.

  “I blame you, Clo!” Ramsey yelled in my direction. “This is all your bad.”

  “I take no responsibility for your drummer or his blisters,” I called back. “That’s all on your frontman. Please direct all complaints to the appropriate lines.”

  “The number you have called is not available!” Eli said.

  “Dishonour on both your cows!” Ramsey grumbled.

  “Oh, I like Mulan.” I jumped when Govi’s voice came from right next to me. I looked at him and he smiled. “Bajeesus clearing service, reporting for duty.”

  I shook my head. “You’re funny.”

  He tipped his imaginary hat. “I am the token comic relief,” he told me with a wink.

  “How goes your tree?”

  “Good. That one’s done. I’m just taking a smoko before I get onto the next one.”

  “You smoke?” I asked, surprised.

  He looked mildly affronted. “No. But it’s discriminatory to withhold breaks from those who don’t smoke.”

  My eyebrow rose. “I was just surprised you called it a smoko.”

  He did that little wriggle. “It sounds more rockstar, doesn’t it?”

  I snorted. “Um…sure.”

  “So…”

  I wondered where that unsubtle segue was headed as I climbed down my ladder carefully. “So?”

  “You and Eli seem cosy,” Govi commented as he bumped me gently.

  I looked up at him in annoyance, both at his comment and the fact I nearly lost my footing again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Govi nodded slowly. “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  “So it’s not like you – I dunno – like him or anything and are just now realising that you made an awful mistake pushing him into the arms of your sister?”

  I nudged him less gently. “No. Can a girl not be friends with a guy?”

  Govi looked at me in mock-outrage. “Excuse me, but what exactly are we?”

  “But two ships passing in the night?” I teased.

  “Rude.” He huffed. “Keep that up and I might not get you a backstage pass for November.”

  I hid my laugh. “Sorry. No. I’d love that. I’m sorry.”

  He broke out into one of his wide grins. “All good. I already put you on the list.”

  I hugged him with one arm, trying not to get my gluey hands on his clothes. “Thank you. That’s amazing.”

  He wriggled another one of his cute little happy wiggles. “I kinda am, aren’t I?”

  I laughed. “You are.”

  “But as amazing as I am, you can’t change the subject.”

  “I didn’t change the subject!” I objected. “I gave you my answer.”

  “Uh huh…”

  He looked at me, waggling his eyebrows as though that was going to get any other information out of me. As far as torture techniques went, it ranked a little below mildly annoying

  “Shut up,” I mumbled and Govi just nodded all too knowingly.

  He’s (not) all that

  Annoyed with myself, I rushed back through the doors to the auditorium on Thursday and came up short when I realised the music I heard wasn’t just in my head. Eli was sitting up on the stage with his acoustic guitar and a pencil behind his ear. He played a bit, grabbed the pencil, scribbled something on the floor and put it back, then played a bit more.

  As I stepped forward, my shoe echoed loudly on the floor. He stopped playing and looked up. The concern and annoyance melted as a smile spread across his face wh
en he saw it was just me.

  “Hey.”

  I gave a pathetic little wave. “Hey. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. I just left the all-precious clipboard behind.”

  His smile widened. “You’re fine.”

  “What are you doing?” I asked as I walked over to the stage.

  “Uh, not what I want,” he gave a self-deprecating laugh.

  I chuckled. “You’d rather be…what? Making out in the broom closet?”

  His rueful smile warmed me, but I ignored it. “While I’d never pass that up,” he winked, “I’m actually trying to…” He frowned and looked down at the papers by his leg as though they’d betrayed him.

  I leant my elbows on the stage and looked up at him. “Working on something new?”

  He shrugged again. “Dunno, I have this…” he waved his hand next to his head, “thing going around in there, but I can’t get it out.”

  I didn’t know much about song-writing, but it made sense to me that it was hard. “Well, I like most of your other stuff. So I’m sure you’ll manage.”

  “Was that actually a compliment?” he chuckled.

  I shrugged and smiled slyly. “Maybe. Or maybe I think Govi’s drum skills are amazeballs.”

  He broke out into a full, sincere laugh and the way it transformed him almost took my breath away. I reminded myself heavily that Eli Sweet was in no way whatever guy my head was currently trying to tell me he was. I felt goose bumps chase across my arms and I rubbed them quickly.

  “Which songs don’t you like? I’ll bet they’re all mine.” Eli leant over his guitar towards me.

  I grinned and looked down at my hands. “I don’t know. ‘One More Time’ isn’t my favourite, I guess.”

  “What?” Eli spluttered. “That’s everyone’s favourite?”

  I shrugged. “It’s just another song about another guy who wants another girl who’s not good enough for him.”

  Eli cocked his head to the side and tried to supress a smile. “Not good enough for him?” he scoffed. “How is she not good enough for him?”

  I leant my cheek on my hand. “If she didn’t notice him before he was famous, then she’s not worth him. He should have just let her be with the arsehole. It’s ‘Teenage Dirtbag’ all over again.”