Page 22 of Pride High 2: Orange
Mindy watched Douglas pull a werewolf mask down over his head and asked, “Aren’t you going to take off your glasses?”
“I won’t be able to see anything,” he replied.
“Okay, but it makes the mask look weird. I can see your glasses pushing against it.
“I’ll wear my contacts on opening night,” Douglas said. “Help me get the gloves on.”
Please, she mentally added for him. He was definitely not a prince!
She took a step back and began to doubt her work. Between the Halloween mask and the layers of robes, Douglas looked more like the wolf fromLittle Red Riding Hoodafter he’d disguised himself as Grandma.
“Where’s my mark?” Douglas asked while groping around for her.
Mindy took his hand and guided him to one side of the stage. “Break a leg,” she said, waiting nearby as he and Whitney ran through the scene. Belle crept through the woods, which they hadn’t needed to build a set for. They’d used trees from a previous production. Cameron had arranged them in a way that provided depth, allowing Whitney to wander around a cluster of trees while looking nervous. Although she took it too far when she backed up against a tree and pressed her index fingers and thumbs together to form a gun.
“Lower your left arm,” Keisha shouted from the other side of the stage, “and put your right hand over your mouth. You’re not in a shoot-out with secret agents. You’rescared!”
Whitney rolled her eyes but complied. She wandered toward their side of the stage and gasped theatrically. “A castle? Way out here? Strange. Maybe they can take me in for the night.”
Douglas took a step forward.
“A twig cracks!” Ms. Deville shouted.
Whitney staggered to a halt. “What was that? Who’s there?”
“Go away!” Douglas said, sounding muted behind his mask.
“I would,” Whitney stammered, “but I’m lost and it’s ever so dark. I need to find shelter for the night. Who does the castle belong to?”
“It’s mine, and I don’t want you here. Go away!”
Whitney took a tentative step forward. “Are you a prince? Or a king? Why won’t you show yourself?”
“You want to see the master of this cursed place,” Douglas said, making it sound like a statement instead of the threatening question it was meant to be. “Fine!”
He lunged forward onto the stage, waving his arms around like he was swatting at flies. Whitney shrieked, turned, and fled in the opposite direction. Douglas gave chase. Or tried to. He got the angle wrong. Mindy watched in horror as he ran toward the front of the stage.
“Hold up!” Keisha shouted while rushing toward him. “Stop!”
Douglas didn’t seem to hear her. Maybe because he was making growling noises that sounded more like a puppy playing tug-of-war. Keisha didn’t reach him in time. Douglas flew off the stage and landed on the floor with a definitive thud. Everyone seemed to hold their breath in a moment of perfect silence. When he groaned, it set them all in motion. Within seconds, he was surrounded by concerned expressions, including her own.
“Are you hurt?” Ms. Deville kept asking.
Even his whimpers were muffled under the stupid mask.
“Here,” Mindy said, kneeling next to him. She managed to get the mask off, taking his glasses with it. Condensation covered both lenses. Mindy tried returning the glasses to his face so he could see, but Douglas pushed her hands away and began howling. She knew his pain was real, because his performances were neverthatconvincing.
“We better call an ambulance,” Ms. Deville said.
Cameron nodded and rushed off. Mindy watched him go. Then she looked down at the glasses she still held, the fog slowly receding off each lens. She frantically began to polish them with her shirt, not wanting anyone to realize the truth: The mask had been Mindy’s idea. This was all her fault!
CHAPTER 6
December 2nd, 1992
Omar stood in a circle of students, Mindy and Galen in the center as they took turns describing the drama that had unfolded the day before. He only tore his attention away when feeling a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s going on?” Anthony asked.
