No Drama class Friday. Instead, we have extra rehearsal time, and Ms. Wolfe rearranges everyone to accommodate Gigi’s absence. Surprise, surprise, I’m still in back. Misty gets Gigi’s solo line in the opening number.
“I know her other songs too,” she tells Rowena. “The Judy Garland number—I could take her place.”
“Hardly,” I mutter.
“Actually, we’d already discussed that, Misty,” Rowena says. “Would you and Sylvanie be able to come in during lunch and go over it?”
“Absolutely,” Misty says. “I’d be honored.” She starts back to her place, and I see her mouth, Yesss! and pump her fist at Gus.
“Like a turkey buzzard waiting for fresh kill,” I mutter to Sean.
Misty hears me and smirks. “Hey, a star is born.” She turns back to Rowena. “I could do her other solo too.”
“Thanks, Misty. We’ve taken care of that.”
“Just trying to be helpful.”
Helpful like a broken leg.
“Thank you, Misty.”
By four, there’s still no word from Gigi.
“Have you heard anything at all?” I ask Sean over a stale sandwich from The Pit. Most people went home after school, but we both stayed.
“I heard Davis say she had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” Sean says. “Don’t let this ruin it for you. She wouldn’t want you to worry about her.”
“You make it sound like she’s dead.”
“No one ever died of a leg injury.”
“I think Gigi would rather die than miss a performance—especially if she knew Misty was singing one of her songs.”
Before the show, I stand backstage, holding the dress Mom and I bought that day at The Falls, the dress I’m going to wear for my duet. It smells like the store and our day, and I wonder what it’s going to be like after today. Will everything change?
Then I’m onstage. I get through the opening okay. During the first-act finale, I look out into the audience. No Mom, of course. She wouldn’t have come, even if I’d told her.
Then it’s time for our duet. While I’m onstage, I think about:
Breathing in and breathing out.
Expanding my diaphragm. Punching the high notes.
Putting my voice into my head.
Up!
The cough drop I ate.
Violetta. Her love for Alfredo. Her sacrifices and bravery even in death.
Keeping my feet wide enough that I don’t fall over.
I don’t think about Mom and Arnold or the lies I told Rowena. I don’t think about Gigi saying what if she can’t dance again.
I just open my throat and let my voice fly to the ceiling.
This is who I am. This is what I love. This is who I am. I know that I can do it, and it’s what I want to do more than anything. And I realize I have to do anything I can to make it happen, even if it means leaving other things behind.
We finish our song. The applause is thunderous. I take Sean’s hand and stand there, letting it surround us. I know I need to go to the summer program, even if I’m scared. I can do it. This is who I am. I need to talk to Mom, and maybe get her to come to tomorrow’s performance. Maybe if she sees it, she’ll understand. Somehow.