Still the One (Book 2 in the Four of Us Trilogy)

28 | If Looks Could Kill

And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand.

When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

-The Goo Goo Dolls, "Iris"

Luke

At least I don't have to wear a wig, I thought as I looked in the dressing room mirror before Grease rehearsal. My dark hair slicked back nicely for my role as Danny Zuko. Rachel didn't have to wear a wig either, as her blonde hair was perfect for Sandy. But half of the rest of the cast did, and it was fucking hilarious. Josh Ferguson had to wear a terrible wig for his role as Sonny; it seriously looked like someone just pulled a ratty forty- year-old afro wig from the closet and stuck it on his head.

Professor Fairchild made us wear our costumes for EVERY rehearsal, and that included wearing our hair in character. Rachel giggled every time I came on stage with my ducktail and pompadour, wearing my T-Bird jacket.

One notable cast member who didn't have to wear a wig was Iris, Miles' not-so-secret admirer. I swear, she was born to play the role of Jan. Her brown hair was wild, sticking out in all directions. She was able to play the part of peppy, hyper, and goofy Jan quite well, actually.

But I noticed something while Rachel was running "Hopelessly Devoted to You" during rehearsal today.

Iris was glaring at Rachel. I mean, if looks could kill, I'd be attending Rachel's funeral right now. Rachel was completely lost in the song, singing it beautifully as always, so she wasn't taking notice of the death rays being shot in her direction. I tried not to stare, but I kept glancing back and forth between Iris and Rachel, willing Rachel to look in her direction so she'd get caught. But she never did.

"Excellent, Ms. Cross!" Professor Fairchild called out when Rachel was finished. "You hit every note, darling. Absolutely beautiful!" she gushed. The class clapped appreciatively.

Except Iris. She literally sat with her arms crossed over her chest, jaw clenched.

Rachel smiled graciously, and her eyes scanned the room to find me. I jerked my head subtly in Iris' direction, my eyes wide.

She glanced at Iris, and when she saw the look on her face, Rachel raised her eyebrows. When I looked back at Iris, she had dropped her arms and had a placid look on her face.

I shrugged as Rachel crossed the stage to where I stood. Her eyes asked the question: What the fuck?

"I have no idea," I murmured. "She was staring at you like that the entire song."

Rachel looked taken aback. "Really? I have been nothing but nice to her!"

I cocked my head to the side and drug her backstage by her Rydell High letter sweater.

"Seriously?"

"What?" she asked, her grey eyes confused. "Does she want my part?"

I snorted. "I don't think it's your part she wants."

She wrinkled her nose. "You think this is about Miles?"

I patted her on the head condescendingly. "You're so sweet, Rachel. Of course it's about Miles!" I hissed.

She shook her head. "Well, oh well. She can be mad all she wants to – she's not getting my man!" she said, mirth in her voice.

"Just watch out before she goes all Single White Female on you," I said, and she rolled her eyes.