Reading Between the Lines

by Katrina Abbott

  The next several hours were a blur of peel, chop, slice, dice, stir, scoop, greet, smile, serve, moan, groan, exhale, rub feet, pray for death.

  By the time I sat down at the long table among my friends, I was so exhausted, I didn’t even feel like eating. The only good part was that since we’d prepared the meal, the Westwood boys were on the hook to serve, so at least I got a chance to get off my swollen, screaming feet. I took a sip of the water in front of me, spilling it as I got jostled on the right by the person sitting down next to me. Of course it was Robert, who had clearly done it on purpose.

  “Piss off, big brother,” I said.

  “Good to see you, too, little sister,” he replied, leaning into me, making me smile and lean back into him in my exhausted version of a hug. Despite his being a pain in my butt, it was good to have at least part of my family with me. The other girls weren’t so lucky and I was grateful that the dean let all the staffers who were still on campus sit among us.

  “Good evening, everyone,” the dean suddenly said into the mic, cutting through the dull roar in the room as everyone settled into their seats. She paused until the crowd quieted and we all gave her our attention at the front of the room. She was standing at the podium and seated to her left was Brady, wearing a jacket and looking very dapper as he ran his fingers around his water glass, his eyes very focused on it, maybe avoiding looking at me. Terrified of getting caught if he felt my eyes on him and happened to glance up, I turned my gaze to the dean as she continued.

  “Thanksgiving is normally a time for family and I realize many of us would rather be with our own families today and this weekend, however I like to think of us as extended family here at Rosewood, and by extension, Westwood. We spend much time together and learn to care about and respect each other as we study and contribute to our respective communities. So I hope that you will join me in being thankful today for the many blessings you have, from the company of each other and this dinner we made together, to the relationships and memories you will take with you beyond your time in school. Please let us all take a moment of silence to be thankful.”

  As one, we all bowed our heads and I felt the grasp of Emmie’s hand on my left, so I grabbed Robert’s left hand with my right one, smiling as he squeezed my fingers.

  Suddenly and to my horror, my phone sounded in my pocket, echoing through the silent dining room and causing a chorus of snickers. Thankfully, it was just a text and not a ring that would continue. Dave, probably, checking in from his parents’ house. Nice timing, I thought, wondering if he could have possibly done it on purpose, because I was sure he would have, given the opportunity.

  After a few more moments, the dean broke the silence. “Thank you, everyone. Please enjoy your meal and don’t forget, we will have movies and popcorn in the auditorium beginning at seven p.m. Westwood students are welcome to join—your bus leaves for campus ten minutes after the end of the second film. Dig in everyone!”

  She put down the mic, which was everyone’s cue to eat, but I took out my phone to see Dave’s text.

  It wasn’t from him, but from Brady: I would be thankful if you would forgive me for being a dick.

  I glanced up at him and he was looking at me sheepishly. Sorry, he mouthed, which I figured was an additional apology for the timing of his text. I gave him a roll of my eyes and then looked down at my phone.

  I forgive you, I sent.

  My phone sounded again, this time mostly drowned out by the sounds around me: the clatter of dishes and cutlery, talking, laughing. I looked down. Friends?

  I looked up at him again and nodded, but I was still worried we weren’t done with all the angsty push-pull stuff.

  I heard you and understand. No more. I promise.

  I stared at the words for a few seconds before I lifted my head and looked at him again. Thank you, I mouthed at him. And I was thankful, but at the same time, just the tiniest little bit heartbroken. Which made no sense at all.

  ~ ♥ ~

  “Another one?” I laughed, incredulous as Jared sat back down at the table with another whole pumpkin pie he’d pilfered from the kitchen. My gut was about ready to burst, but he and Declan were eyeing that pie like they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Boys and their insatiable appetites...

  Jared grinned at me. “It’s Thanksgiving, you’re supposed to overeat. There was no more whipped cream, though,” he said, with an exaggerated frown as he cut himself a generous slice and passed the plate to Declan.

  “I’ll have another slice, too,” Robert said. “It’s really good, so I’m sure my sister had nothing to do with baking it.” He elbowed me in the ribs.

  I pretended to be offended, but the sad truth is that he was right. I’d been in charge of carrot and potato peeling, which was about the extent of my culinary skills.

  “I made the pies,” Emmie said, leaning forward so she could look at Robert past me.

  “You did a great job,” Robert said, taking the plate from Declan once he’d sliced himself a quarter of the pie (all the girls had refused, so it was left to the three of them).

  Emmie smiled and I swear, she batted her lashes at my brother. “I’m so glad you like it, Rob.” That was enough to get me out from between the two of them, despite my utter exhaustion. It also erased my final doubts and solidified my decision about Dave.

  “I’ll start clearing,” I said to no one in particular as I stood, reaching for my plate.

  Jared rose across from me, having apparently inhaled his dessert already. “I’ll help. That’s our job, anyway.” He glanced at Declan who was so wrapped up in talking with Kaylee that he probably hadn’t even heard.

  I gave Jared a shrug and together we stacked the plates and took them to the kitchen.

  “So,” he said as we unloaded the dishes in the big sink. “I don’t mean to rush you and I totally understand you’ve been busy, but I thought I’d ask if...”

  I gave him an apologetic look. “I haven’t finished reading it yet, sorry.”

  “Right. Not that I’m being needy or anything,” he said. “But, uh, is it horrible? You know, I’m only asking in a completely constructive criticism kind of way. I’m totally not needy. Really. Not even a little. Needy, that is.”

  I put my hand on his forearm and looked into his eyes. “It is not horrible, Jared. It’s very moving and thought-provoking. Many of the things that happened to you were horrible, but the book itself if amazing. I’m sorry; I should have let you know that before, so you didn’t have to ask.

  He exhaled. “You’re not just saying that?”

  “Oh no, the stuff in this book is horrible. Totally.”

  He rolled his eyes and I wondered how he managed to be so normal now after what he’d been through.

  We turned to leave the kitchen, but I wasn’t done with him yet, so I grabbed his hand and tugged him into an alcove surrounded with shelving stacked with dishes and platters. For a half a second, he looked hopeful and I realized my mistake, so I let go of his hand. “Are you okay? I mean, there’s a lot of stuff in this book that is really awful and makes your family look bad. What’s going to happen when it gets out?”

  The smile dissolved from his face. “You notice I’m here, right? And not with my family?”

  I nodded.

  He shrugged as though that was explanation enough.

  “Where’s your grandmother?” I asked, suddenly afraid of his answer.

  “The holidays are hard on her and if I went to see her, she’d feel like she’s betraying the others. I’ll see her at Christmas, though I did call her this morning.”

  “I’m sorry it’s like this for you,” I said. “I don’t know how you’re not nuts.”

  “I was for a time,” he said, his face serious. “Luckily, the show syndicated and I could afford a lot of therapy. I’m pretty zen about all of it now.”

  I cocked my head. “So why write the book? Is that part of the therapy?”

  “No. I just want the truth out. Maybe there are other child actors
out there that can get something out of it and realize they’re not alone. Maybe they can read between the lines and see that there are ways out, ways to turn the horrors into positives and grow from the experiences and not let them define you and your life. I know I’m not the only one who had a horrible childhood so maybe I can take my crap and help someone and make it a positive.”

  I nodded because it made sense and I really admired him for putting his story out there.

  “Life is like that, you know,” he said. “You read between the lines of someone’s experiences to see the person they are and how their life has shaped them. It’s not just about the show and the money. It’s so much more than that.”

  “You’re a pretty smart guy, you know,” I said, resisting the urge to grab his hand, but I suddenly felt really close to him.

  “So, how far have you gotten?”

  I thought to just that morning when I’d been reading his manuscript in the lounge, giving Emmie a chance to sleep in since she was off laundry duty and I didn’t have equestrian practice while they were scrambling to find a replacement for Brady. I winced as I thought about the chapter I’d read, sure that it had amounted to child abuse. “The part where your mother gave six year old you Valium so you would be mellow for your audition.”

  He nodded. “Right. It gets worse, just to let you know.”

  Cringing, I said, “Seriously?”

  “Unfortunately. But maybe you pity me enough to go out with me?” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

  I sighed loudly.

  “Fine, fine, okay I don’t really want your pity,” he said, holding his hands up. “So, you and Dave though?”

  I dropped my eyes. “I think so.”

  He was silent just long enough for me to want to fidget then said, “Would you believe me if I said I was happy for you both and I think you’ll make a great couple?”

  Looking up at him, I said, “Should I believe you if you said it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, you know how I feel about you, but Dave’s a good guy and if I can’t have you, he’s almost as good.” He grinned at me when I laughed. “And he knows if he messes with you, I’ll kick his ass. I would do it, too.”

  “I would expect you to,” I said, in all seriousness.

  He nodded. “Is it okay if I ask for a hug?”

  I looked at him sideways. “No groping.”

  He snapped his fingers in mock disappointment then came towards me and wrapped his giant arms around me, practically smashing me into his pecs. “I need to breathe, Jared,” I said, my voice muffled into his shirt.

  “Right, sorry,” he said, rumbling against my cheek, letting up, but not letting me go until I pulled back a few moments later. “Come on, we’d better get back or they’re all going to think I finally convinced you to hook up with me.”

  “You’re a good friend,” I said as we walked out into the dining room toward our friends.

  He smiled at me, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes before we reached the table and he started joking around with Declan, teasing him for slacking off on his duties.

  He really would make the perfect boyfriend and I just hoped someday someone awesome would realize it.

  Secrets

  Kaylee bent over and checked under the stalls for feet and when she didn’t see any, she came up next to me at the sinks. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  I looked at her in the mirror as I turned the tap on and pumped some of the liquid soap into my palm. “Of course.”

  “Declan is taking me home for Christmas.”

  “What?”

  She nodded, barely able to contain herself as she bounced on her feet, and Kaylee was not normally a bouncer.

  “I’m not supposed to say anything to anyone, but since you’ll be in London, too, I thought maybe we could get together and do some shopping or something.”

  “Really? He’s taking you home to meet the Duke and Duchess?”

  She swallowed and her smile faltered a little. “Yes. Is that crazy, or what?”

  “A little. But totally in a good way,” I said, turning the tap off and reaching for a paper towel. “As his girlfriend?”

  “I guess so. When I told him I was going to be staying on campus for Christmas because I had nowhere else to go, he was horrified and told me I was coming home with him. And that it was not negotiable.”

  I squealed and threw my arms around her. “That is so amazing, Kaylee. I’m so excited for you. And of course we can hang out in London! That will be so fun!” We bounced together a little until I pushed back out of the hug. “When do you go? Maybe we can arrange to be on the same flight...”

  She shook her head. “So listen to this: we’re flying in his family’s private jet.”

  “No way?”

  She nodded. “He’s actually flying home tomorrow for a wedding and then coming back after the weekend, but then we’ll fly together to London on the nineteenth.”

  “That is so cool, Kaylee. A private jet. So posh!”

  “I know, right? Though I’m a bit nervous to meet his parents. I’m scared they’ll be stuffy. The only royalty I know is Hollywood royalty and that hardly counts.”

  I put my hands on her arms and looked into her eyes. “You’ll do fine. Just be yourself. Declan—or whatever his real name is—will make sure of it and they’ll love you, too. You’re very charming, you know,” I reassured her.

  She smiled. “I’m so glad I’ll have you to hang out with.”

  “We’ll do up an itinerary before we go. At least a list of the places you have to see, in between rubbing shoulders with real royalty, that is.”

  Her face fell, “Do you think I’ll meet The Queen?”

  I laughed. “How would I know? Maybe Prince Harry—does Declan know him?”

  Before she could answer, the door opened and a few girls came in, effectively cutting off our conversation. “What movies are they playing?” Kaylee asked, her tone casual even as she gave me a look in the mirror that said we’d continue our conversation later.

  “No idea,” I answered. “Not that you’re going to be watching with Declan sitting beside you.”

  Her blush and sheepish look confirmed it.

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the door. “Let’s go find your hot Irish boyfriend.”

  She winked at me and we left the bathroom.

  ~ ♥ ~

  It was about twenty minutes into the first movie that my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and cupped my hand around the screen so it wouldn’t disturb my friends, though Kaylee and Declan were making out on one side of me and Emmie was whispering and laughing with my brother on the other. Talk about a fifth wheel, I thought, though of course, if Dave were here and it was a week from now after we’d made things official, I’d be doing the same.

  Looking forward to seeing you soon, the text said. There was no number, which was weird, but I figured maybe it was Dave texting from his laptop or something.

  Next week, I sent back, smiling.

  Then a picture came through, but it wasn’t Dave. It was of a guy in desert camo, his face covered with a balaclava, holding a noose in one hand and an assault rifle in the other.

  I nearly dropped my phone like it was on fire.

  Who is this?

  A friend of your father’s. tell him we say hello.

  I swallowed and gave myself exactly five seconds to calm down and think. I reached across Emmie and handed Robert my phone. He glanced at me for a second and then looked down at it and read the messages. Half a second later, he stood. “Come,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind him.

  I turned back to my friends. “Family emergency, we’ll be right back.”

  But I knew that last part was a lie.

  Robert's Dorm Room

  Robert pulled me out into the hall and didn’t let go of my hand until we’d left the building and were heading down a gravel path. I didn’t ask where he was taking me because he
obviously had a plan. Plus, I was totally freaked out and had to trust that he knew what he was doing.

  He was moving fast and I had to jog to keep up, but asking him to slow down wasn’t an option.

  But then I thought about what he’d shown me. “Shouldn’t we go to the bunker?” I asked looking over my shoulder toward the other side of campus.

  He turned and glanced at me for a fraction of a second before he said, “Not yet. We need to find out where this came from.” He held up my phone.

  We got to the staff living quarters and I followed him into the building and down a very plainly decorated hallway that looked markedly different than the rich wood paneled halls of my dorm. He stopped at a door and did a quick sweep of the hallway before he slid his key card into the lock and opened the door, gesturing me inside ahead of him.

  He closed and locked the door, shrouding us in complete darkness for a second, my ears picking up the hum from electronic devices.

  Then he turned on the light.

  I expected something that resembled a locker room in both decoration and smell, since that had been what his room had been like when we’d lived together, but no. What faced me now looked like a war room right out of some spy movie: I counted five monitors and two laptops and a desk covered with wires and other indeterminable electronic devices that I guessed were surveillance devices of some kind. Or used to be. In the closet, on hangers like they were knitted cardigans, hung two bulletproof vests.

  I looked at Robert, wide-eyed.

  “I’m not at Yale.”

  I gave him a duh look.

  “No, B,” he said. “I’ve never been at Yale.”

  “Huh?”

  “It was a cover.”

  “Obviously. How long?” I asked, stunned. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised, since so much of our lives had been falsified, but I never expected my brother to keep me in the dark. Friends, girlfriends, teachers? Of course, but not me. Not family.

  “Mom doesn’t even know.”

  Ah, that made more sense. But wait, “Doesn’t know what, exactly?” I asked, not sure if he would or could tell me, but it couldn’t hurt to try.