Bookishly Ever After (Ever After #1)(51)

“Who says I don’t bring excitement into your life?” She poked me in the arm, still grinning as wide as the stage. “I’m glad I rate higher than cashmere.”

“And quivut.” At the confused tilt of her head, I added. “That’s a good thing.”

She shook her head in a ‘let’s tolerate the silly yarn girl’ kind of way, as if I never had to deal with her doing the same with ancient actor names. “Right. I’ll take your word for it.”

“So, what’s on the schedule for today?”

“Well, first, Dev’s not coming to rehearsal, so you can wipe that suspicious look off your face. It’s been two months. You really need to get over it.” She poked me in the arm and screwed up her nose like she was about to stick her tongue out at me. “We’re running through some of the songs and marks for Think of Me, Angel of Music, and the Lottie scene.”

I ignored her Dev comments and focused on pulling up all my Phantom knowledge. “Ooooh. So, basically, all Em all the time.”

“And Christian, who’s playing Raoul, and Lissa.” Em bounced off the armrest and paced excitedly in the row in front of me. “I can’t wait. They were doing some stage repairs all October, so they had us audition in the gym. This is the first time I’m going to get to sing Think of Me on an actual stage. Do you remember when we went to New York to watch it freshman year?”

“After Osoba said we were going to do an Andrew Lloyd Weber medley and your mom decided we needed ‘inspiration?’ Yes.” That had been the best trip ever. Em and I felt so adult going into New York alone on the bus, grabbing dinner at a parental unit-approved pizza shop, and then walking into the Majestic Theater, trying so hard to look like native New Yorkers.

“That night, I promised myself that someday I’d play Christine. And now,” she bounced up and down happily, enough that her curls were bouncing with her. “It’s not Broadway, but it’ll be good practice for it.”

I grinned. “So, where’s Wilhelm for your Think of Me debut?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “He’s got some foreign exchange student thing, and that’s totally fine because I think he’s not a big musical fan. But,” she grabbed my hands and made me bounce with her, “I’m so glad you’re here for this. You’re probably the only person who understands why I love this musical so much.”

The student director, a senior I didn’t recognize, hopped up onto the stage and clapped his hands. “Okay, guys, let’s get started. Em, Lissa needs to get out of here early, so we’re going a little out of order to run through Angel of Music first, okay?”

“Got it.” Em turned and waved at me before hurrying on stage.

“Sing pretty,” I called after her, then snuggled deeper into my seat, flipping on my booklight. The last time I’d sat in on a musical theatre rehearsal, there was a lot of chatting and moving people around and directors fixing little things between takes or scenes or whatever actor-y people called it. I could dive into Concealed, the latest Hidden House novella and probably not miss a thing.

I bounced between watching rehearsal and reading, but the moment Em softly started singing the first notes of her solo, I dropped my book into my lap and focused entirely on her. She was always different on stage, transformed from my pushy best friend into whatever character she was playing. This time, her posture was straight, like she was wearing a corset. Within a few notes of the song, she morphed from timid Christine to Christine taking over the stage, her voice traveling to the furthest ends of the auditorium.

Someone slid into the row, sitting two seats down from me. I froze the second I realized it was Kris. “I didn’t know Em was such a good singer.”

Em, with a range most people in the school choir would kill for, ran through a series of notes that brought chills over me. I nodded instead of answering and breaking the spell she had put over the whole auditorium.

As soon as the song was over and the director was working on fixing something with her, I took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, she’s going to take over Hollywood and Broadway someday.”

Kris looked back up at the stage and studied Em for a second before shaking his head and turning back to me. “So, if she’s that good, why is she wasting her time here in Lambertfield instead of building a career?”

“Because her parents would kill her. And because she’s convinced ninety percent of the time, child actors end up as total train wrecks.”

“Good point.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes and I stared at my book, unable to get past the first sentence on the screen. I couldn’t remember any good Marissa moments to imitate that really fit the moment. If only I had Em’s ability to shift seamlessly into character. I tried skimming down the page, but a novella about a girl trapped in the mirrorworld who turned evil probably wasn’t the best research material.

The boy’s eyes widen as he sees me for the first time and the terror in his face is easy to read. If I don’t turn his head quickly, convince him to trust me, he’ll likely drop the drape back onto the mirror and run away like all the others who have seen me.

“So, I’m guessing you’re here because of Em?” Kris only glanced up from his phone for a second, then went back to what looked like a long text.