Page 27 of Sawyer

“It’s none of our business,” says McKenna gently. She deftly changes the topic. “Hey, Reeve, have we heard from Aaron about the budget yet? To build the sets? Bruce asked me to run the numbers. We may need to hold a fundraiser in November, and he said we could have a party at the Parsnip if needed.”

“I don’t know,” says Reeve, her nose in the air the instant Aaron’s name is mentioned. I swear, there are moments my sister could give snobby Ivy a run for her money. “I don’t talk tohimunless I have to.”

They get into a discussion about the cost of sets and props, but I tune them out as we bounce over the last of the Dyea Road before reaching Skagway. Ever since Reeve mentioned Clark cheating, my thoughts have turned dark.

The truth? IhateClark Clement Rupert III for what he did to Ivy Caswell. It was a slim-to-nothing chance thatshe and Iwould ever work out, but I still wanted her to be happy. If he could’ve made her happy, I would’ve come around to accepting their union. But hecan’tmake her happy. I’m sure of that. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. Once a cheater, always a cheater. If fidelity matters to her, which I’m sure it does, she’s setting herself up for a lifetime of misery.

I brood about this for the rest of the ride, park on the empty street near the theater, and follow my sisters inside, looking for Ivy as I make my way down the aisle. I find her in the front row center.

Before plopping down beside her, I pull my script from my back pocket.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” she says, moving her elbow from the shared armrest. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“I’m stealthy.”

“Good word.”

“I got lots of ’em.”

“Is that right?”

“Sure. How else do you kick the SAT’s ass?”

She looks at me skeptically. “Youkicked the SAT’s ass?”

“Perfect score on English,” I say with a little shrug.

Her mouth hangs open. “You got an800on the English portion of the SAT?”

“Yep. But my math skills suck. I only got a 600.”

“Suck? People would kill for a 600 on math. Are you kidding me, Sawyer?”

(No, I’m not kidding. I got a 1400 on the SAT, and I really and truly thought about going to college, but in the end, I decided it just wasn’t for me.)

“Shhh,” I whisper. Bruce climbs onto the stage. “Be polite. The director is speaking.”

“Thespians,” starts Bruce, beaming at all of us with “prayer hands.” “Welcome!”

Everyone claps while Bruce pretends to shush us. I swear…heisCameron fromModern Family. It’s uncanny.

“Tonight is not about me. Tonight is not aboutWuthering Heights.Tonight is not about Catherine and her Heathcliff,” he says, gesturing at me and Ivy. “It’s not about cues or lines or descriptive actions or bright interest! Tonight is about…trust!”

I have no idea what’s going on, but I clap along with everyone else.

“The world is our stage! The stage is our world! Come, friends, and partake!”

Ivy jumps up and rushes to the stage, so I follow her, standing uncertainly on the sidelines to see what’s about to happen.

“Sawyer, Sawyer, Sawyer,” says Bruce, stepping over to me and patting me on the shoulder. “You’re such a natural, I forget you’re new to this. Go stand across from Ivy. You’ll do the trust exercise together.”

Herded over to Ivy by Bruce, I stand across from her.

“First,” he says, “I want you all to pair up like these two. That’s right. That’s right. Vera, can you work with Mr. Hedgely since he’s playing Joe? Aaron, darling, come and pair up with McKenna. It’s just for fun. Everyone’s part of the pack tonight. Reeve, you’re with me. Now, everyone! Sit on the floor with your back against your partner’s back.”

I sit down with my legs straight out and look up at Ivy, who hesitates. I raise my eyebrows, and she rolls her eyes, loweringherself to the floor. As I turn away from her, I feel her back brush against mine. Since I’m wearing a T-shirt and she’s wearing a bulky wool sweater, I lean back, into her, against her…until I finally feel the heat of her body.

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