Next day was Friday and judging from looks alone, nothing had changed at all. Stella and I stuck together in our joint classes, tried our best to pay attention in the other subjects, and, generally speaking, ignored the existence of a world outside our own little bubble. The normalcy meant I didn’t talk to Trevor at all, and Stella didn’t bring him up.

Then theater group gathered and there he was, hair curtaining his face and guitar bag slung over one shoulder. He came nearly late and stared out at everyone with a smirk in place, as if daring them to try to get him to back off again. I risked giving him a small smile of encouragement, and I think his eyes widened a bit in surprise, but when he entered the auditorium he stepped past me and went straight to Professor Hedford.

Said professor looked like a fifty-something-year-old child on Christmas morning. “Mr. Bennett! I’m so glad to see you can join us. I had heard that your guitar was damaged during an accident the other day.”

“She was, but still plays just fine. I understand not everyone has the necessary skills to move without bumping into things, so no hard feelings.”

The professor looked startled by Trevor's response and a few of the younger students snickered. I shared an amazed look with Stella.

“Is it me,” she whispered, “or has he just called Jacob an oaf?”

“I think he did,” I whispered right back. “I just hope he knows what he’s doing… Ashley's not looking pleased.”

“You know… I think I want to talk to you later,” she said all of a sudden.

“About what?”

“Later,” she repeated as things settled down and we all moved to our spots to begin the rehearsal.

Most people present didn’t even have lines in the scene we went over that day, but still they stayed. Alex and I were having our little showdown in Act I, over and over again, and those who didn’t get any lines in just watched and threw in their thoughts when Professor Hedford called for a halt and asked the group what exactly hadn’t worked.

It was a good dynamic, but that day we were stuck. At some point, the onlookers got bored and either retired to the back of the auditorium to rehearse their own lines or went outside for a breath of fresh air—or for an illegal smoke, as I knew to be Jacob’s case.

By the time we reached take five and counting, even I started to despair of ever getting it right.

We weren’t getting it wrong, because Alex and I worked perfectly as a leading pair. We had learned our lines for the part, and in general, the performance was fine. But Professor Hedford said that our problem was precisely that this was a performance.

“Don’t we always perform, Professor?” Alex asked the next time he called for a halt. “Isn’t that what theater is for?”

“For the majority, yes,” Mr. Hedford replied. “Any other year, I’d not require more than a fitting performance from you. But this time, children, we can do something more. We can make a difference. So what I want is not a performance, but a rendition of this particular scene where a marriage that has known nothing but love is suddenly thrown into a maelstrom of mistrust and social scandal. I’d not ask for it if I didn’t know you could give it, so let’s go again.”

I sighed. I didn’t even know the difference between “performance” and “rendition.” Either I needed to look at my Merriam-Webster, or it was one of those theater things intellectual directors liked to say to sound cool. I took a sip from my water bottle and decided it was the latter.

But still, I had to try.

Once more, under the intense scrutiny of what was left of the group, I walked up to Alex and confronted him about the rumors I had heard.

Was he sullying my honor with another woman? Had he dared to shame me so? Alex excused himself, surprised, and said that it was nothing of the sort. Then, he refused to give me an explanation, no matter how hard I pressed him for one. He just exited the room and I was left to wallow in my anger.

“Halt,” Mr. Hedford called. “It was better; we are improving, but may I ask for yet another try?”

He didn’t sound convinced at all when he said that it was better. He tried hard to hide it, but he got that look in his eyes, the one he wore when trying to soothe the bruised feelings of a teen after yet another correction with no improvement.

I looked to Stella for support, but found her focused on something else. I turned to follow her gaze and—

“Professor,” Trevor said from his corner. Stella had been looking at him. What the hell? I wondered. “May I play a bit in the background while they rehearse? I need the practice time and I don’t think it’ll bother them…”

Mr. Hedford waved a hand. “Of course. You have your right to use the practice time as well, Mr. Bennett. And furthermore, I think your playing might help us all to relax and get into the mood. Do go ahead, please.”

Trevor nodded, and Stella grinned and gave me a thumbs up. I searched Alex's gaze to see if he understood what had just happened. He shrugged, as lost as I was—or more, since he hadn’t seen Stella and Trevor's strange mental communication skills in action—and moved over to his starting point.

The music started to sound, more subdued than it would during the party in Act II, but still audible enough to weave a mood around us. It was soft, lighting fast, hitching… instead of relaxing me, like I had dared to hope for, like our professor had suggested, it felt as if a giant fist was crushing my throat.

I started to move toward Alex, but my step faltered just as the notes did. He looked up, and I didn’t see surprise in his eyes—resignation, tiredness, but he didn’t seem to find it odd that I hadn’t greeted him, that I was still up waiting for him. His behavior only lent more credibility to the rumors, but still it was hard to believe.

It is my husband, I thought, the song swelling somewhere in the background.

I loved this man, damn it. I trusted him! He also was my friend, my confidante. I could not just believe the gossip, even if I thought I had proof. I had to confront him about it, no matter how much my voice shook when I did. Was he seeing someone else? Was there another woman? Alex's face looked pained for a split second, but then he visibly squared his shoulders. He said that there was nothing of the sort, but he didn’t look me in the eye. Instead, he busied himself pretending to discard his hat and his jacket. I wanted to believe him, but his whole attitude screamed “guilty.” So I pressed him. I told him I knew her name, but still he shook his head.

“Mrs. Erlynne,” I spat out at last, trying desperately to get a reaction out of him—either a reassurance, oh please let it be an assurance, or, if it couldn’t be… then at least an admission.

Alex looked me in the eye then, for a long minute, and he said, “Yes, I’m visiting with her.”

The words were even but they felt like a blow. I had to stagger back, to reach for the back of a chair to steady myself, and I saw his calm façade break and his hand reach out, as if he wanted to hold me through the pain. But this time, he had caused it. He couldn’t help me, the hypocrite.

I averted my eyes, and he lowered his hand, fingers closed in a fist. When he spoke again, his voice sounded pained and barely held together.

“I swear I have not betrayed you.”

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t, and after another moment of tense, thick silence, he left the room with his head down, the weight of knowledge bearing down on his shoulders.

The music ended and I was left completely alone, trying to find the scattered pieces of my heart, my trust, my happiness…

Silence hung for a long moment afterwards and then applause. I blinked, looked up, and saw Professor Hedford with the greatest Cheshire Cat grin I’d ever seen. The other students stared at us open-mouthed. Stella clapped like mad among them. I turned to Alex, who came back on the stage, and we both shared a look, as if we were just waking up after a long, wonderful dream. A dream where we were Lord and Lady Windermere.

Understanding slowly flooded me.

“And that, my dear students,” said Mr. Hedford, “is exactly what I meant. That is what I will be asking from you for Lady Windermere’s Fan. Now that you’ve seen it and understand it, I think it’s time we call it a day, don’t you agree?”

People were slow to react, still too deeply gone into the play to remember that it was late. Later than any other day of regular rehearsal, actually. As subdued “see you laters” were exchanged and the rest of the folks started to clear the auditorium, I turned to Trevor. He had done it, I knew, but when I turned to him, he just smiled in encouragement like everyone else and gave me a small nod. His gaze was on me, but the fingers of his left hand still danced lightly over the muted strings of his guitar.

I headed toward him, not minding that we were in plain sight.

“You knew it, right?”

“What?” he asked, with picture perfect innocence.

“You knew what the difference was, between performance and…” I gaped, at a loss. I had already forgotten the other word used by Mr. Hedford.

“Performance and rendition?” He laughed a bit. “Yeah, I did. So did you.”

“I didn’t even know…”

Stella collided against my back and her hand shot forwards over my shoulder, giving a thumbs up to Trevor.

“Good one, Dracula.”

I turned to face Stella. “Wait, you’re in on this?”

She shrugged. “Come on, Alice, it didn’t take an Einstein to figure it out. You love how he plays, and I’ve seen firsthand what he can do in the way of getting anyone into the feelings of the story. We all saw it that first day. You guys just needed a little push out of the script and into the gut-wrenching drama.”

I opened my mouth and shut it again. Stella was right, wasn’t she? All that had changed during our stellar performance—our rendition—was the way we had approached our lines. We hadn’t known how our characters were supposed to feel; then we had felt it.

“Girls,” Alex said then, looking at our little trio a little weirded out and a little suspicious. “You coming?”

I blushed, realizing what we were doing and where, and nodded, but Stella's arm locked around my shoulders and she waved at him. “Nah, you go ahead. Alice’s coming to my place, so we’ll go together once we are done here.”

“When you’re done?” Alex raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Okay… whatever you say.”

We watched while he left, the last of the long string of stragglers, and I said, “I don’t think he looked very convinced. And besides, I can’t drop by your house tonight. I really should check in at home first.”

“Did you want to go with him?”

“No, but…”

“Then stop ruining my excuse. As I said, we need to talk.” She pointed a finger at Trevor, who was almost finished picking up his things. “You,” she said, sounding quite imperious. “What have you done to Ashley?”

Trevor immediately snapped into defensive mode. “I haven’t done a thing…”

“I can’t believe you think…” I followed right after his lead.

She lifted her hands to forestall us.

“I’m not accusing anyone here,” she said, “but I’ve been thinking. Ashley knew Trevor played, and while her explanation might be true, I still think it’s fishy. Besides, Alice, you said yourself that waiting for weeks to try to get revenge on Trevor for something as minimal as hitting with his tray someone who wasn’t her was too much, even for her standards. And I’ve yet another exhibit. She looked positively livid when Trevor came in today, which means she’s not letting it go. So”—she turned on him—“I’d like to know why she’s got her sights on you. We might figure out what’s coming next.”

Trevor and I blinked, and he darted a nervous glance between Stella and me.

“I don’t want to come across the wrong way, but what’s it to you?” he asked with guarded eyes.

Stella shrugged, not fazed in the least.

“Well, Alice seems to think you’re interesting. I’m going to go with that. If it fails, I’ll argue that a cause as lost as yours makes for an entertaining pet project.”

My jaw dropped, but Trevor laughed, not entirely free, but with more amusement and less self-deprecation lacing it than last time I’d heard it.

“Okay, I’ll consider myself a lab rat. But I still can’t think of anything that might have made the Bitch Queen lock her jaws on me.”

“Bitch Queen?” Stella arched an eyebrow and I giggled.

“Yeah, I’m the Princess.”

“Wait, does that make me the Jester? Don’t answer that,” she warned, waving a finger in Trevor's direction. “But think about this, okay?”

“Will do. Thanks.”

“Alice, we should really get going now. I’ll drop you off?”

“Sure. You coming?”

Trevor shook his head. “I want to stay and put in some practice. I have an idea.”

I didn’t really understand how anyone would want to stay longer after school once the extra curriculars were over, or how he could speak of spending his Friday night alone with his guitar, as if there was nothing more normal than that, but I shrugged and headed off with Stella.

By the time we made it outside, the parking lot was deserted and it was cold enough to make our breath puff out in white clouds.

“You were pretty nice to Trevor back there,” I said as we approached Stella's car.

“Are you saying that I’m not nice as a general rule?” She smirked and I rolled my eyes.

“To the likes of him? Please! I wouldn’t be particularly civil in normal circumstances either.”

“But that’s just the thing. You look comfortable talking about him. Look at you. Two days out of your stalkerish tendencies and you’re already acting as if you two are friends.” I went to protest, but my mouth clamped shut when I realized that I had no decent argument against her. She looked too smug and she was right. “I thought I should give the guy a chance,” she went on with a devilish glint to her eye, “because I have a feeling that now that he’s here, he’s going to stay.”

“He can’t stay, Stella. I mean, theater and rehearsal is one thing, but what would we even talk about afterward? What would happen if we were seen around together?”

“Ashley would have a field day.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, so you’re just going to go back to ignoring him once Lady Windermere’s Fan is out of the way?”

The “of course” got tangled up in my throat, and I stared at her. My look must have been as pitiful as a lost, kicked kitten, because she pulled open the door to her car with a grin.

“That’s what I thought,” she said.

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