The Fall Musical (21 page)

“We
are
different, Casey.” Brianna's face was fiery red. “I like things out in the open. I like it when my friends know everything about me. I
don't
like it when they do things behind my back.”

“Behind your . . . ?” Casey had to reach deep inside for this one, to switch gears from the play. This was about Kyle. The play was on the line, and they were out here arguing about
Kyle
! “Um, Brianna, do you think I tried to steal Kyle from you? Do you think Kyle cares about you anyway? Or me? No offense, Brianna, but he doesn't. Not either of us. Just Reese.”

“Duh. It wasn't for lack of trying, though, was it?”

“Do you really want to know what happened between Kyle and me? Because I'll tell you right now—”

“Spare me the details. This is more than just about Kyle, Casey. It's about hiding things. And keeping secrets. About not letting in the people who care about you. It's always been about that, Casey.”

“What are you talking about?”

“
I don't know.
You tell me, Casey. I'm not stupid and I'm not blind.
What are you hiding
?”

Casey took a deep breath. She looked up the long expanse of Porterfield Avenue toward the front of the school, an absurdly grand columned entrance to a boxy building that looked empty and desolate.

She looked at her watch. Six thirty-five. Her cell phone was vibrating. This was pushing it.

“Okay,” Casey said. “You're right. I do have a few things to tell you.”

“Make it fast. It's cold out here.”

“First of all, I'm sorry I yelled at you,” Casey said. “Second of all, my name isn't Casey . . .”

 

Harrison watched Kyle lope around the stage, making ape noises, then drop to the floor and do thirty push-ups at breakneck speed, then leap as high as his ankle allowed a few times. This was followed by a repeated nasal “Meow meow meow meow . . . ” starting in a falsetto and traveling down the scale into the lowest bass range of his voice. Harrison had taught him all these exercises during the rehearsal process, but he'd never once seen Kyle doing them.

The truth was, Kyle didn't need the exercises. He was doing them because he was nervous. He didn't need that either. His life was about to change, big-time, and he wouldn't know what hit him.

Harrison brushed some lint off his costume and adjusted the suspenders. Everyone else was running around like crazy, crying and jabbering and shaking and whispering into one another's ears. Reese had pulled her top down over her right shoulder so Charles could smear it with Tiger Balm, nearly exposing her breast and angling herself for the maximum attention to that detail. The ointment made the whole place smell like a locker room.

In a moment it all faded to nothing.

Mr. Levin was in front of the curtain. Harrison could hear him tapping the mike and saying, “Testing, testing.”

He felt a sharp pinch on his butt and didn't have to turn around to know it was Reese. He slapped at her hand blindly, without looking, and made contact. Good reflexes.

“Ow,” Reese said.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. Levin announced, “I want to thank you for coming out on this cold night. I have an announcement to make. I wish we could have told you earlier, but we found out only this evening. Unfortunately, Lori Terrell cannot be with us tonight.”

There must have been a lot of kids in the audience, because Kyle could hear them murmuring their disappointment.

“Instead,” Mr. Levin went on, “her role will be played by Brianna Glaser.”

A smattering of applause filtered in before Mr. Levin shouted, “So let's give it up for
Godspell
!”

For a moment Harrison felt as if something were completely wrong. Like he couldn't breathe and his arms were numb. Like if he moved, he would crumple to the floor as if he'd been sacked by the entire defensive line of the RHS football team. “Breathe,” he heard Brianna whisper behind him. She emerged from the darkness, smiling, and squeezed his hand. At the opposite side of the stage, he could see Charles shooting everyone a thumbs-up with one hand and wiping his eyes with the other.

They were feelings he had before every show. He smiled. It was right.

The music began, and Harrison felt a palm clasping the back of his neck. “I kick left first?” a familiar voice asked. “In ‘All for the Best'?”

“Right first,” Harrison whispered. “
Right
.”

“Right,” Kyle said. “I'll never remember it.”

“Well, break a leg, brother,” Harrison said as he stepped forward onto the stage. He hit his mark, a blue masking-tape X on the floor, as the curtain opened and a spotlight set him ablaze.

24

HE WAS A PHENOMENON.

Not just good. Not just talented.

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.

Sure.
They
didn't have to worry about injury.

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.

Great. Kyle was “up.” He had blanked out on what to do.

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.

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

And Harrison realized he had winked
left.

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.

“And ... kickline ...” Reese mouthed from backstage.

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.”

Harrison smiled and kept his mouth shut.

 

“ . . . the light of the world!”

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.

And then, after what felt like a decade, the noise began.

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.

He was a rock star.

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.

“
Vre
Harrison,” Brianna replied. “So were you.”

He smiled. “We did it, sister. We pulled it off.”

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.”

“You were perfect, Brianna. Not one mistake—”

“Three.”

“Okay, three. But no one noticed.”

“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.

“Go, Casey!” Brianna screamed.

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

“Sure,” Brianna said. “Who are we going with?”

Reese shrugged. “I have
my
ride. I'm sure you'll find one.”

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.

Casey suddenly felt cold. She could sense Brianna stiffening.

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.

Reese stopped in her tracks. Her shoulders drooped.

Casey looked at Brianna. “Unbelievable,” she murmured.

“Kyle!” Reese's voice echoed over the crowd. “KYYYYYLLLLE!”

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.