Understudy

Chapter One

Kat

Birthdays. I like birthdays. Who doesn’t like birthdays? I woke up that day with a smile on my face and a giddy feeling that made me want to jump out of bed and break into a song and dance number. The funny thing was, it wasn’t even my birthday. It was Adam’s. And the thing about celebrating your boyfriend’s birthday is that it feels like you’re celebrating your own. Maybe it’s because being a couple binds you in a way that makes you a single unit. I don’t know. It’s weird. But that’s how I always felt in the last two years of being with Adam. So on the morning of his eighteenth birthday, I sat down at the breakfast table wearing a huge smile that must’ve made me look like an idiot. I didn’t care though.

Looks like someone woke up extra cheerful this morning.

I looked up from my cereal bowl and saw Dad peering up from his morning paper, grinning at me.

What's up my little princess? Did you dream about flying ponies and singing blue birds?

I rolled my eyes but allowed myself to smile. I was in too good of a mood to come up with a smart comeback. I'm just thankful I'm alive today, I said, knowing all too well that it sounded like something straight out of a self-help book.

It was Dad's turn to roll his eyes.

We both know that teenagers are in a perpetual state where they believe that life sucks, he said, folding the newspaper and placing it beside his plate, crossword already done.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means that I don't buy it. You're supposed to be angsty. You can't be happy you're alive today.

Actually, she is, Mom interjected, pouring Dad his second cup of coffee. Filling it to the brim. It's her hubby's birthday today. She sauntered behind my chair to refill my cup. She was wearing the apron I gave her last Christmas, the one with a painted orange kitten sporting a punk leather jacket. I'd gotten an easy A in Art class for that one.

Dad's eyes widened. Oh, is that right?

Oh, yes it is, Mom said, answering for me, taking her seat at the other end of the table. You know how Kat gets when her significant other celebrates his birthday. It's like she's celebrating her own.

Yeah, I noticed that, Dad said, cringing a bit. So, what are you getting him for this special day?

I felt myself flush. For months, I had racked my brain to come up with the ultimate birthday present. But I couldn't think of anything.

Adam's family was well off. Actually, that was an understatement. His family owned a bunch of diners scattered all over the country, meaning he was freaking rich. There was nothing Adam couldn't buy, which made it hard to think of something I could get for him. Asking Sara was no help either. She said that she was my best friend, not a problem solver, and that Adam wasn't her boyfriend. She actually had a point.

I could've whipped up some artsy stuff. That was one thing I'm good at. Instead, I succumbed to cliché, and as much as I hated myself for it, it was the best thing that I came up with. I made a mixed CD of his favorite songs.

Mom and Dad exchanged weird looks and I shrank further in my seat. I know, okay? It's dumb! I should've gone for the giant mosaic made up of our pictures or whatever...but hey, at least I exerted some effort for the album cover and−

Calm down, Kat, Dad said, cutting me off. We don’t care if you decide to give him a chessy birthday card for a present. We just want to make sure that you're not giving him, you know... something else.

I gaped at him, confused. He scratched his chin, and I could tell that something was up.

Mom was a terrible actress, and to prove it, she immediately averted her gaze as soon as our eyes met. Yes, Dad's on to something alright.

I don't get it, I said. What am I missing here?

Mom took a sip of her coffee, her hazel eyes focusing on something behind me. Well, honey, we were just worried that you might decide on something that you thought you might want to do when you actually don't.

Huh?

Dad cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest, his expression unreadable. What your Mom is trying to say is that, you shouldn't do what other kids your age do. We understand that your generation is much more curious about...stuff, and−

Woah, Dad, stop right there! I finally understood what he was trying to say, and I didn't like it one bit. Are you giving me The Talk over breakfast?

Dad's jaw tightened as he pressed his lips together. Mom, on the other hand, stared at her coffee and tried to change the topic. So, I started a blog yesterday, she said. I think I’ll start writing again. What do you think?

Dad and I exchanged looks. I'm not having sex with Adam, if that's what you're thinking, I said. Hearing those words coming out of my lips gave me goose bumps. Then turning to my mom, I added, And we won't. Well, not until the time comes or whatever. Just...Let's not talk about this. The blog thingy sounds great by the way.

That's what other kids say, Dad muttered under his breath. They even wear matching chastity bracelets and−

Thomas! Mom exclaimed. Stop it. I told you this was a bad idea.

Yeah, it was, I deadpanned.

Dad's shoulders relaxed and it was evident that he wanted to close the subject altogether. Well, at least bring a condom with you today.

Or maybe not.

DAD!

THOMAS!

What? Dad stared at us innocently. I'm just being practical. As the saying goes, if you can't beat 'em, educate them.

It's join them, Dad, I said, pushing my unfinished breakfast away from me.

I can't join you guys. His bushy eyebrows went up and down it was almost comical. Well, if you know what I mean.

Eww, gross, Dad! You do realize I can like report you for child molestation, right?

Mom shook her head. Yeah, I actually married that guy.

Dad held up his hands in mock surrender. That was a joke for crying out loud!

My parents were funny. I don't know if it was because Dad worked as a middle school teacher, while Mom was a former writer for a teen's magazine, but I didn't have a hard time talking to them about anything. Except sex. That's a big no-no.

Just then, I heard Adam's car outside our house and sighed in relief. Okay, he's here and I'm out. See you guys later. I stood up and raced toward the living room to grab my backpack. I took a quick glance at my reflection as I passed by the mirror in the hallway and frowned when I saw that my hair fell in a tangled mess over my shoulders. I needed a freaking haircut. I raked my fingers through it. Maybe I could go for the bed head look? Or maybe not. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked over to our front door. As soon as I swung it open, Adam's smiling face greeted me.

Good morning, he said.

Happy birthday! I said.

Thank you.

He was wearing a navy blue shirt. My favorite. I liked how it complemented his sandy brown hair, which I’m guessing was the reason he chose it for this special day. I closed the gap between us, pressing my body into his, taking in his scent of freshly baked bread.

Have you been baking again? I asked.

Maybe, he whispered, his lips curling up in a mysterious smile. He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, which I reciprocated willingly. Then, I heard some throat clearing coming from behind me.

Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Vanburgh, Adam said, pulling me beside him as soon as my parents walked to the front door.

Good morning, Adam, Mom said, returning his smile. Dad was smiling too, though I wasn't really sure if he was happy to see Adam, or he was still thinking about his earlier joke.

Happy birthday, young lad! Dad said, extending his hand towards Adam for a handshake.

Adam's eyes widened ever so slightly though he immediately regained his composure and shook Dad’s hand. Thank you, sir.

Mom and I exchanged knowing looks, and I couldn't help but notice her long fingernails digging into Dad’s skin.

Okay, I think we should go now, we'll be late for school, I said, pushing Adam to get him moving along. He turned toward my parents and waved at them. Bye Mr. and Mrs. Vanburgh!

Have a nice day kids, and be safe! Dad called out as the door shut behind us. I sighed in relief.

They know? Adam asked, looping his arm around my waist as we headed to his car. He had brought his Jeep instead of the Porsche and I made a mental note to ask him about it.

Yes, and I'm sorry about that.

Sorry about what? Your parents are cool! You must be having a hell of a good time when you're at home.

Yeah, like you have no idea, I said, though I immediately remembered that unlike me, Adam's parents weren't around most of the time.

He helped me climb into the passenger seat. I waited until he was seated beside me, and asked, Are we going on a road trip? I thought you hated driving this monster to school?

Adam grinned, showing his cute little dimple, and I had to stop myself from giggling out loud. This is a special day right? We're having fun tonight. We’re going on an adventure!

Having fun? Of course we would, that was a given. But I suddenly felt uncomfortable as I remembered the awkward conversation I had with Dad earlier.

Speaking of a special day, I am expecting to receive something special today, Adam said, bobbing his eyebrows up and down.

My heart started hammering in response. Was he...? No, Adam wasn't that kind of guy. We hadn't made any promises or worn any chastity bracelets, but there was an unspoken rule between us about having sex. At least that's what I thought. The sound of the Jeep's roaring engine made me jump and Adam's soft chuckle filled my ears.

What's the matter? Had a lot of coffee this morning?

No, I said, biting my lip as I considered opening the subject of that special thing. Maybe it was time we started talking about it.

Adam placed his hand on my knee and I felt myself stiffen. He kept his eyes on the road but he obviously sensed my unease. Hey, Kat, what's wrong?

My hands felt cold and it was as if my heart had climbed up my throat. Well, about that special thing, I began, keeping my eyes fixed on the hand over my knee. I just want−

Geez, Kat, I'm just messing with you!

My head snapped up. He was suppressing laughter. I don't really care if you have a birthday present for me or not. Of course it would be great if you have, but as I’ve told you before, I'd rather you don't.

Wait, we're talking about your birthday present, right? I asked. Like a gift? Something physical and tangible wrapped in a special but unnecessary piece of decorated paper, right?

Err, that's kind of detailed, he said, giving me a sidelong glance to see if I had gone crazy. But if that's how you put it then...yeah.

Relief washed through me. Of course that's what he was talking about. What was wrong with me?

Why? Adam asked. What did you think I was talking about?

I didn't answer. I couldn't. Yet, like the way he knew that something was wrong even when he wasn't looking at me, Adam understood. That was one thing I loved about him; he knew me too well. It could get annoying at times though.

Wait. His eyes widened as his lips curled up into my favorite smile. Are you...?

Stop it, Adam.

His smile grew wider. Oh no, you're not.

Adam, I−

How could you?

It's not like−

Pervert!

I smacked his shoulder and he started laughing. I tried to look annoyed, but his laughter was infectious. I ended up laughing with him, or rather, at my stupidity. We laughed until our stomachs hurt, and it gradually died down into soft chuckles. Adam grabbed my hand and linked our fingers together. They fitted perfectly, like a glove.

I actually do have a birthday present for you.

Oh, so you're really going for it, huh?

Shut up, I'm being serious here.

For real?

Yes.

What is it? His gaze travelled down to the backpack resting on my lap, and his face brightened with childlike eagerness. Can I open it now?

Later. We have a lot of time.

Adam frowned.

It's nothing much. It's actually stupid.

Nothing you do is stupid, Kat, he said, shifting to a serious tone, making my face heat up. Except for the one you pulled awhile ago.

Oh, shut up!

Adam laughed as he took a sharp turn around a corner, but the glimmer in his eyes made me wonder if he did find it stupid at all.

***

The parking lot was almost full and we were lucky to find a vacant spot. It had begun drizzling and people were scrambling for cover. We probably had five minutes before first period and I was about to get out of the car when Adam pulled on my hand.

Katharine, wait.

My ears perked up on hearing my whole first name. He seldom used it. In fact, nobody called me by my complete first name except Mr. Blake−our English teacher−who fondly called me Katharine Hepburn, and my parents, when they were being really serious, which was rarely.

I turned to face him and a small smile spread across his face. About earlier Kat, about that... thing, he began.

I groaned. Oh, Adam. Let it go! It was−

He pressed a finger over my lips shushing me. No, hear me out. I'm being serious this time.

I tried to keep a straight face. This conversation was bound to happen. I mean, we were teenagers over-flowing with hormones. Not to mention that most of our friends had actually done it, whether they admitted to it or not. There were times that I thought about it too, wondering if Adam would be the one I'd end up doing it with.

Adam shifted in his seat. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. I waited.

I fiddled with my sweater’s zipper to distract myself, trying to hide the panic slowly building in my chest. Was he going to ask me to have sex with him? Luckily, Adam didn't seem to notice my turmoil, or maybe he was panicking as well.

We won't do it until you're ready, he said. But it's not like I'm waiting for it all the time or anything. He leaned closer, his green eyes smoldering like burning emeralds. We have a lot of time and I'm going to wait, because... I love you.

It was the first time Adam had said those three words, and it was as if I had died and gone to heaven. My heart began beating wildly in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I opened my mouth to speak, tell him that I love him as well, but I couldn't. Instead, I smiled. I knew I looked like an idiot, but I couldn't help it. I just stared at his face, wondering how I ended up snagging this gorgeous guy who was too good to be true.

He closed the gap between us, his soft lips meeting mine, teasing at first. Then I closed my eyes, opened my mouth a little and felt his tongue brush against my teeth, my tongue, everywhere. An electric current zinged through my body, making my breath hitch. I felt his hand on my waist as I allowed myself to lean closer, like a magnet attracted to its opposite charge. That was when the first bell rang.

Adam grunted as we continued making out in his car. I wanted to spend the entire day like this, but I figured that it wouldn't go well with our we're going to wait agreement.

We're going to be late, I said breathlessly as I grudgingly pulled away from him.

Adam smiled sheepishly. Sorry, he said, though he didn't look nor sound sorry at all. Neither was I.

Chapter Two

So, what did you get him? Sara asked as soon as we met in front of our lockers. We had less than two minutes to get into class and since our first subject for the day was Ms. Ingrid's, a.k.a The Russian Calculus Fatale, we grabbed our books as if our lives depended on them.

I haven't given it to him yet, I said as I clutched my books over my chest, still savoring the lingering sweetness of Adam's lips.

But what is it?

It's nothing special; actually, I'm even having second thoughts about giving it to him.

BANG!

Sara slammed her locker shut with so much force that it startled me. Are you going to have sex with him?! she asked, her eyes widening.

Some students who were rushing down the hall stopped to stare at us. I felt my cheeks burn.

God! Why is everybody so interested in my sex life today? I closed my locker and sped off toward our first class. Sara followed behind me, her immaculate blonde hair sashaying as she kept up with my pace.

Are you? And who's everybody?

No one, and let's drop the subject okay?

Fine, she replied, though her tone suggested otherwise.

Sara plopped down on an empty seat in front of me just as Ms. Ingrid entered the room. The Russian Calculus Fatale was wearing a tight red dress that made her look thinner than she already was. Her strawberry blonde hair was set in a tight bun on top of her head, and her glasses magnified her eyes like some kind of a Japanese chibi. To top it off, she spoke with a thick Russian accent that made it difficult for us to take her seriously. Despite my hatred for her subject, I actually felt bad for her.

Suppressed laughter spread throughout the room like wildfire, which didn't go unnoticed. TRCF started lecturing us about respect and proper decorum, a lecture we had come to know by heart.

Sara took the opportunity and leaned over my desk, her beautiful pixie features glowing like a lighted candle. "So, what did you