Page 2 of The Ruse

I was about to head up the grand staircase to find my friends when the sound of a piano playing a familiar tune caught my attention. I stopped with one foot on the bottom stair and listened, picking out the melody of “Think of Me” fromThe Phantom of the Operamusical.

Was that Nash playing the piano?

I hadn’t heard of him being a pianist, but if anyone in this house would know that specific song, it would be him, since he was set to play the Phantom in our school’s upcoming winter musical. He had been immersing himself in the music for the past few months leading up to auditions.

When the drama teacher posted the cast list for the musical two days ago, I’d been nervous that my being new to the school might hurt my chances of being cast as the female lead, since she hadn’t seen me in the productions at my old school in Ridgewater, New York. The part of Christine was such a demanding role, and so casting someone she hadn’t seen perform in front of an audience could be considered a big risk.

But Miss Crawley had apparently been okay with taking a risk on the new girl, because when my eyes scanned down the list Tuesday afternoon, my name was next to the role of Christine Daaé.

I had been so relieved and happy. Because while I hadn’t dressed up like the character for Halloween the way Nash had dressed up like the Phantom, I had wanted that part just as badly.

I’d dreamed of playing Christine on Broadway ever since I watched the 2004 movie version with my mom in our tiny living room in Ridgewater. And while the stage at Eden Falls Academy was an hour-long train ride from Broadway, it felt almost as cool to get the part.

The music continued to drift down the hallway to my right, so I decided to follow it to see if it was Nash playing the piano in his family’s music room.

I’d gotten a little bit of a crush on my blond-haired, blue-eyed friend as we’d hung out the past few weeks. There was nothing more attractive than a musician to me. I wanted to catch a glimpse of him playing so I could add it to my little mental file of moments when Nash was looking extra hot.

The music grew louder as I approached. After glancing around to make sure no one was around to watch me spy on Nash, I leaned closer to the small opening in the door and peeked my head inside to take a look.

Only, instead of finding Nash like I’d expected, it was a guy with jet-black hair and broad shoulders sitting on the piano bench with his back to me.

Who was this? A cousin of the Hastings, perhaps? Someone from Mrs. Hastings’ side since she had the dark hair, maybe?

I hadn’t heard of them inviting their extended family today, but it was Thanksgiving, so it made sense that they would, I guess.

I was about to head back the way I’d come—I didn’t want to be the creepy stalker girl who spied on strangers—when the melody shifted into something much more complex. Instead of continuing to follow the tune of “Think of Me,” it evolved into “All I Ask of You.”

I paused and listened to the guy at the piano play the elaborate arrangement, and as cold chills raced up my arms, all I could think of was,wow.As the music swelled at my favorite part of the melody—the part where Raoul and Christine sing about wanting to always go where the other went—another wave of chills flowed from the crown of my head and all the way down to my toes.

Who was this guy playing the piano? And where had he found this arrangement? I’d never heard anything so beautiful—I felt like it was speaking to my soul.

The music came down from the big crescendo, softened, and then slowed, becoming more simplified as it returned to the original melody. As I waited for his fingers to play the last long note, I found myself holding my breath.

It wasn’t until the stranger at the piano lifted his hands from the keyboard of the grand piano that I realized where I was. The music had temporarily transported me away from reality.

But when he started to swivel his body around on the piano bench, I knew that if I didn’t move away from the crack in the door in the next instant, I would be caught spying on him.

I quickly pulled away from the opening in the doorway and took a few steps back. I was just turning around to run back the way I’d come when my butt bumped against a fancy side table along the wall. I watched in horror as a vase of fresh flowers wobbled, but my reflexes were quick, and I stopped it just before it could tip over.

Crisis averted, I sighed with relief. The relief only lasted a split second though, because just when I was about to dart down the hall like a kid who’d just stolen some chocolate from her grandma’s candy jar, I heard the sound of someone stepping onto the marble floor behind me.

So much for not getting caught and looking like a creeper.

Even though I knew I’d been seen, I still considered running down the hall anyway. I could just pretend it was my identical twin sister who had been doing the creeping, if this guy were to ask around later, right?

But before I could flee, a deep voice behind me said, “I see they sent the new girl to spy on the enemy.”

Busted.

Then I processed what he’d said.

Had he just called himself the enemy? And hinted that my friends had sent me to spy on him? So did that mean the Hastings’ siblings weren’t friends with this cousin of theirs?

I planned to ask the guy what he meant by his statement…right up until I turned around and saw his face.

And suddenly, all I could think was,Holy heck, this guy is hot.

I mean, he’d looked pretty good from behind while playing the piano. He had broad shoulders, a muscular build, a long torso that made me assume he was taller than average for a guy—always a bonus for a tall girl like me. And his black hair was slightly curly and tousled in a way that I loved.