The Fall Musical #1

He seemed to suck energy from the walls and give it back a thousand times. The audience ate him up, cheering his every entrance.

For all the impressive stuff Kyle had done in rehearsal, nothing had prepared Harrison for being onstage with someone like this. The pressure of performance did something to him. It was hard to compete with, but God was it fun.

“Places for ‘All for the Best,’ ” came Casey’s voice from backstage.

Harrison braced himself. He had taped his shins in advance. Kyle’s eyes, crisp and confident until that moment, flickered with uncertainty.

Harrison caught a glimpse of Charles and the Charlettes, all holding hands backstage as if in prayer.

The music began, and the two guys sang their verse. Kyle’s voice was robust and clear. Together they hopped onto the platform, and Kyle shot him a panicked glance.

Harrison panicked. He was singing—he couldn’t tell Kyle where to kick. Why couldn’t he remember this? Harrison would have to indicate some other way, with some other part of his body.

Eyes. Wink with the eye on the side of the body where the leg should kick.

In the middle of the verse, Harrison winked with one eye. Kyle nodded imperceptibly.

Out came the hats. And the canes. Harrison desperately tried to get Kyle to look at him again. He couldn’t fall in the middle of this number. Not on opening night.

Harrison kicked right. He closed his eyes instinctively. Brace . . . just brace . . .

Applause welled up from the audience. And Harrison noticed his shin felt fine.

Kyle was doing it. Kicking right. Swinging his cane left and kicking like a friggin’ Rockette!

They swung and kicked and sang like clockwork, and at the end of the number they fell into each other, arms around shoulders, tipping their hats in grand vaudeville style. The crowd roared and made them take two bows.

“We did it!” Kyle said as they lowered their heads together. “Woo-HOO! Thanks for that wink.”

Brianna held the final position. The tableau. With their arms spread and Dashiell’s special lighting, the sequins shot color around the theater like an explosion. It had all happened so fast, she wasn’t sure what she’d just experienced. Was it over? Could it possibly be over?

The silence after the last note was total. Dashiell cut the lights, and the entire theater was black. Like the world had been whisked away, leaving them all hovering in outer space.

She expected to hear clapping, but that wasn’t what came first. It was a roar, a wash of voices across the width and depth of the theater like the boom of an airplane breaking the sound barrier.

The lights came on again. Brianna relaxed her muscles, dropped her pose. She felt Harrison’s hands gripping hers. She reached out and took Jamil’s. The cast fanned out across the apron of the stage and stood there as the audience gave and gave, screaming, clapping, shouting the names of the cast members. Harrison nodded, and they all took a bow.

Then, one by one according to plan, they stepped forward for individual bows. “When do I go?” Br ianna asked Jamil, nearly shouting to be heard above the applause.

“You’re after me!” he replied, kissing her exuberantly on the cheek. “You were amazing!”

When her turn came, she stepped forward. She wasn’t prepared for what happened. The entire audience rose up as if on cue, crowding the airspace, yelling and whistling and hooting so loud she thought maybe Kyle had snuck out behind her and they were applauding him.

But he hadn’t. It was for her, and for the first time in front of a live audience, she cried.

They stayed on their feet for Harrison’s bow. His applause was huge, too, for a powerful performance—and when Kyle finally came to center stage, dramatically spinning his cape, an ear-piercing squeal went up from a huge group of girls in the back rows, and what must have been the entire football team chanted “WOO! WOO! WOO! WOO!”

Kyle bowed and tried to move back into line, but Harrison pushed him forward again.

Brianna shot a look toward Casey at backstage right, whose face was drenched in tears of joy. She had the urge to run back there, to drag her onstage, but found herself wrapped tightly in Harrison’s strong arms. “You were sensational,” he said.

They separated for one more group bow, with Kyle in the center, all holding hands to keep from floating into the wings.

“Who’s your daddy?” Dashiell shrieked, gyrating backstage with a headset dangling from his neck.

“WOOOO-HOOOO!” Casey bounced from hug to hug, screaming and crying and vowing love and loyalty forever and basically saying whatever came into her head because the show had worked, it had been nearly flawless, and she had earned the right to say whatever she wanted.

“Caseyyyyy . . . ” Brianna said, standing center stage behind the closed curtain with her arms wide and her face makeup dripping black rivulets down her cheeks. The two girls shared an embrace that shut out the world for a moment. “Thank you. Thank you so much for believing in me. Thank you for putting up with me. I’m so glad you pushed me, Casey.”

“All right, girls, break it up, break it up!” Charles shouted, clapping his hands. “We have another performance tomorrow night, and we’re already losing sequins.”

“Chaaaaarles!” The two girls mauled him, wrapping him in hugs from either side.

“Aaaaghhh!” Charles screamed. “Help! I’m being mmphmphmrrrphlrg!”

The next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs and kisses, traveling from backstage to hallway, from ecstatic cast to ecstatic families and friends—and finally they were all in the dressing rooms, peeling off clothing with a recklessness for the material that nearly gave Charles a coronary, and then into their party clothes and makeup.

They all swept out of the school, traveling in a wave to Ivy’s, the upscale Chinese restaurant where the traditional cast parties for the big shows were held. Ivy, as always, had promised to set aside a section of the restaurant for food and dancing.

Twenty minutes later, the music was cranked up, and Brianna screamed at the top of her lungs, boogying as if she hadn’t just had the most difficult day of her life.

Casey bounced from person to person, giggling and laughing. Someone put a diamond tiara on her head, probably swiped from the costume room, and someone else gave her a pair of rhinestone glasses and a feather boa. She waved it around, wrapping other people together with her.

Reese, dancing her perfect jazz dance moves, sidled over and smiled. “Some of us are going to the beach. Wanna come?”

She nodded toward the front door. There, Kyle was talking to a group of admirers. He was wearing a black leather jacket. His hair was swept back, and he looked about as sexy as was humanly possible.

Oh Lord, this wasn’t over, was it? It still was all about Kyle . . . .

“See you there, girls.” Reese yawned theatrically and began strutting across the throng of bodies toward Kyle.

At the other end of the restaurant, Kyle threw his head back, laughing. As Reese danced her way through the bodies, waving to get Kyle’s attention, he put his arm around a blond sophomore whose name Casey didn’t know. The girl rested her head on Kyle’s shoulder, and they both headed for the exit, their bodies leaning into each other, walking in lockstep.

Brianna’s face broke first. Then Casey couldn’t help herself, an undignified “HAAAA!” escaping from her mouth as she leaned into Brianna, both of them convulsed and holding on to each other and crying with laughter, and Casey felt as if her rib cage were going to split open.

Wiping her eyes, Brianna continued to dance. She whirled around, threading in and out of Charles and Aisha, Dashiell and Becky, Jamil and Lynnette. And Casey.

Ivy had just opened the buffet, and a line was forming. But Brianna didn’t care. She couldn’t stop dancing. The night was young. The year was young. There would be plenty of time for food.