Chapter 57

GO TIME FOR SHOWTIME!

The stage manager, a lady named Gretchen who is wearing a head microphone like a football coach, comes into my dressing room.

“Jamie? Gilda’s ready for you on set.”

I wipe my hands on my pants to dry them off. “So this is it?”

“Yep,” says Serena. “Break… a… leg, Jamie.”

“No, thanks. Been there. Done that.”

“It’s a theater expression,” says Mr. Wetmore. “‘Break a leg’ means ‘Good luck.’”

“I know. But, with me, they really ought to change it to ‘Blow a tire.’”

“Okay,” says Serena. “Blow… a… tire, Jamie!”

Mr. Wetmore takes Serena, who’s laughing so hard she’s rocking in her wheelchair, back to her parking spot in the front row. I roll behind the scenery and make my way toward the comedy club backdrop, where I’ll do my opening monologue.

As I cruise across the stage, all those kids in wheelchairs start applauding. Some even start up a “Jay-mee, Jay-mee!” chant. It’s awesome.

Soon, the whole audience (except my fans in their wheelchairs) is on its feet and cheering. Uncle Frankie. The Smileys. Cool Girl and her parents. Gaynor and Pierce are standing right behind Gilda, who’s standing right behind camera one.

I can’t tell you how great it is to have my three best buds in the whole world so close on such a big night.

“We’re live in five,” says Gilda when I take my position behind the microphone stand in front of the brick wall of the comedy club set. “And, Jamie?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember: You funny!”

Gaynor and Pierce both shoot me double thumbs-ups.

I’m feeling pretty great. Running my lines in my head. Getting into the zone.

And then I see Stevie Kosgrov and Lars Johannsen.

The two delinquents are skulking around backstage, checking out all the electric cables they can yank out of plugs.

They’re about to sabotage my show.