I didn’t even try the drama queen act.
Fanelli yelled at me for about twenty minutes and I sat there, taking it, without saying a word. He was right, after all.
“I honestly didn’t know she was allergic,” I finally said, when he ran out of steam. “I just wanted the role of Katharina so badly, I didn’t think.”
He sighed. “I can’t tell you how disappointed I am. You’re lucky she wasn’t seriously hurt.”
“I would never deliberately try to hurt her,” I said. “I just wanted to make her sneeze so much that she’d blow the dress rehearsal and you’d give me that role.”
“That was never going to happen,” he said.
“I know that now,” I said. “And I’m truly sorry.”
It was a miracle, but Fanelli took pity on me. I would still be allowed to play Bianca, but I was banned from participating in the spring musical, and I had to help with cleanup for every drama event in the near future. I got off lightly.
I went home before the dress rehearsal was over. I left my costume hanging on the empty rack. I’d managed to brush most of the pepper from it.
Mom was home and I threw myself down on the couch, crying, as I told her everything.
“Oh, honey,” she said. “It’s just high school. You make mistakes and you move on.”
“Everyone sees me the way they want to see me,” I said. “Monet wants to see me as this nice girl, Connor wanted to see me as someone to rescue, and Dev doesn’t want to see me at all.”
“You are a nice girl,” my mom said.
“But that’s not all I am. And I’m not just a drama queen, either. Why does she expect me to always be nice? Or why do other people expect me to be mean? Why can’t I be some of those things some of the time?”
“You can be,” she said. “But no matter what you do, try to be a better you.”
It sounded like a public relations slogan, but it wasn’t bad advice.
“I can try,” I said. I gave her a hug. “Thanks, Mom. I’m heading to bed.”
I wanted to stay there, preferably until I was thirty, but I had to get up and face the hostility. I didn’t dare check my DramaDivas page to see what people were saying about me. Still, I wasn’t prepared for the viciousness of the rumors when I went to school the next day. It was Friday, and that night was opening night.
“I heard she tried to kill Angie Vogel,” someone said as I stood in the lunch line at the caf. There was no sign of Monet or Dev, but I knew they wouldn’t talk to me even if they’d been in the cafeteria.
I couldn’t face it. I grabbed an apple and some juice and decided to hole up in the library and run my lines. I couldn’t blow that, too.
Finally, it was an hour before curtain time, which meant the usual complete chaos. Monet was in a state of high anxiety, and I didn’t even dare look at Dev. I didn’t want to push my luck. Besides, everyone was still avoiding me.
“I can’t find my costume,” Angie shrieked.
Monet threw a poisonous look my way and I gave her a tiny shake of my head. I’d learned my lesson.
“Oh, my God. I’m going to throw up,” Angie shrieked. She sounded mere minutes from unraveling. A little part of me reveled in her breakdown.
But I didn’t want it anymore, at least not like that. Even if it did mean she was distracted from being mad at me.
“You’ll be fine,” I said. “Take deep breaths. Everyone is nervous opening night.”
Monet gave me a tiny smile when she thought I wasn’t looking.
“Just pretend everyone in the audience is naked,” I suggested.
Angie let out a wail. “My parents will be in the audience!”
“Then no,” I said. “Pretend that there’s no one there.”
“Is that what you do to forget about all those people?” Angie asked. “You seem so calm.”
I was calm as long as I ignored the time bomb lodged in my stomach. I didn’t tell her my preshow ritual of biting my nails down to the quick. I’d already booked a manicure as soon as the show ended.
“Just look into—into Connor’s eyes,” I said. I was proud that I only stumbled over the words the tiniest bit. “Forget about everyone else. Just focus on how much he cares about you.”
I saw a couple of the kids whispering and snickering, and I squared my chin. Let them talk. They were wrong about me, whatever they were saying.
“Thanks, Sophie,” Angie said. “That’s good advice.”
“Two minutes to curtain,” Monet said. And I felt my stomach drop to my knees. I tried to remember my own advice and forget about everything, but a lot was riding on this.
If I screwed up and ruined the opening night performance, Monet would never believe I hadn’t done it deliberately. But chances were good that opening night would go smoothly. Dress rehearsal certainly hadn’t, and it was a stage tradition that if you had a bad dress rehearsal, it meant a great opening night.
The curtain went up and we took our places. I could barely hear my cue over the hammering of my heart.
It all started going downhill during the first scene, when Angie stumbled over her opening line. “I—” (long pause) “I pray…” Her face went white.
“You, sir,” I gave her a prompt without moving my lips.
“You, sir, is it your will to make a stale of me amongst these mates?” she continued.
I released a breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding and got ready for my cue. I let myself be transported to another time and place, into another person, a person who was as pliable as a willow tree.
Then it was time for my exit. Angie was supposed to exit a few lines later and I held my breath, but she remembered her lines and exited when she was supposed to.
She rushed up to me. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe you did that!”
Monet’s head whipped around. “What did she do now?” she said in a weary tone.
“She saved my ass,” Angie said. “I went blank and she fed me the line.”
I noticed that Dev was eavesdropping on the whole conversation, but when I glanced at him, he looked away. My scene had been going surprisingly well, but the big kiss was yet to come.
“Really?” Monet said.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I said.
Monet opened her mouth, but then Guy Squires rushed up. “There’s a problem with the sound board,” he said, and she took off to deal with the minor emergency.
Angie stumbled a couple more times. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said during intermission.
A couple of things sprang to mind, but I bit my tongue. Till I drew blood. At this rate, the turning-over-a-new-leaf thing was going to be even more painful than I had anticipated.
“Relax,” I said. “You’re doing fine.”
But she really blew it during the wedding scene. Connor said something and then her face went white. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out.
She looked at him pleadingly, but Connor could barely remember his own lines. He couldn’t come to the rescue this time.
He just stood there waiting. Finally, he repeated her cue again.
My mind went blank, too, for a second and then the words came back to me. I bent down and pretended to adjust the train of Angie’s gown and whispered the words to her.
Her face relaxed and she projected loud and clear.
The curtain finally went down and we took our bows. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was over for the night.
“What was all that about?” Dev said.
“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” I replied.
“What was going on?”
“None of your business.” When we kissed during the wedding scene, he had given me a kiss that had thrilled me to my toes, and I thought he might have forgiven me, but I guess I was wrong. He had just been acting.
How could he have missed that Angie had frozen?
“Sophie, why can’t you just leave her alone?”
“Why can’t you?” I said, before stomping off. I took a certain amount of glee in the surprise I saw on his face. I was reforming, but there was no way I was going to let Dev Lucero boss me around.
I only had two more performances to get through. Saturday afternoon, we were already in costume when Monet came up to me.
“That was nice of you, what you did for Angie last night.”
“It was the least I could do after I tried to kill her,” I said. It was a weak attempt at a joke, but Monet didn’t laugh and I couldn’t blame her.
“Do you want to hang out at the cast party?” she said after an awkward pause.
I met her eyes. “I’m trying to change,” I said. “But I can’t guarantee that I’ll always be a perfect angel.”
She suppressed a snort. “Of that I have no doubt.” And that’s when I knew I was forgiven.
I gave her a hug and noticed Dev watching us. All I saw in his eyes was contempt, but I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try to tell him how I felt.
Before I had time to talk to him and pour out my heart, however, we were called into hair and makeup. I’d corner him at the cast party, I decided.
Vanessa’s mom used to be a professional makeup artist and had volunteered to help do makeup for the play. I changed into a robe and then took my place in front of one of the lighted mirrors that had been temporarily added to the girls’ locker room.
While Mrs. Leon applied the thick stage paint to my face, I sat in the chair and mentally ran my lines one more time.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door and Haley, who wasn’t changing into costume or at the makeup table, answered it. She came back with a bouquet of flowers.
“They’re for you,” she said, handing me an enormous spray of orchids.
“Who would send me flowers?” I said.
“Probably your mom,” Haley said.
I gave her a dirty look, but she smiled sweetly.
“There’s a card,” she added helpfully.
I opened the envelope. The card said “Break a leg. Dev.”
I wondered if he meant that literally.