Mia the Magnificent (22 page)

As I looked in the makeup mirror, I grabbed my stomach and said, “Now I know why they call this the green room.”

“Here,” Lisa said, handing me a roll of Tums, “take some of these.”

“You’re actually giving me something that isn’t organic?” I asked, unrolling the tube of antacids and putting a couple in my mouth. “I really must be sick—or you are.”

“I didn’t have to time to whip you up anything else,” Lisa said. “I’ve been too busy trying to find a solution for your singing issues.”

“Singing issues?” I managed a small smile. “Is that the politically correct way to say I’m tone-deaf?”

“I wouldn’t say you’re tone-deaf,” Lisa replied. “I would say you’re musically challenged.”

“You can always cancel the show,” I said.

“No, I can’t and I won’t. All the tickets have been sold, and we need the profits for the Drama Department.”

“Maybe my parents can get a second mortgage on their house to make up the difference,” I said.

“Too late,” said Lisa. “There’s already a full house out there.”

I unrolled a few more Tums.

“Anyway,” Lisa said, “I’ve instructed our pianist, Mrs. Mayce, to play all of Marian’s songs in your range. Any note you can’t reach, just speak. If it worked for Rex Harrington in
My Fair Lady,
it can work for you. And I’ve told the other actors to dance in front of you whenever they get a chance, so your insufficient rhythm won’t be
too noticeable.”

As I grabbed some more Tums, Lisa patted me on the back. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll be great. Besides, nobody has ever died of stage fright.”

“Well, you better start taking notes for when you become a doctor someday,” I said, “because I may turn out to be the first case.”

“Great first scene, everyone!” Mrs. Ingram said as the traveling businessmen ran offstage. “You were exactly on cue, and Jake, you were outstanding.”

“Of course I was out there standing,” Jake replied, hustling to make his cue for the next scene. “Was I supposed to be sitting, dude?”

“Never mind,” Mrs. Ingram said, pushing him back on stage. “Don’t think, Jake, just sing.”

Standing on the side of the stage, I watched the townspeople and Jake perform the first song of scene two, and I couldn’t believe how good they were. All those weeks of rehearsal had really paid off. Everyone was singing and dancing like professionals. If I went out there, I was going to ruin everything. I didn’t deserve to be the show’s lead. I’d only gotten this big part because of Lisa and my mom. In fact, I never wanted to be Marian in the first place! I was only a semi-talented sophomore who had no business stealing the understudy role of Marian from more capable upperclassmen. There was only one thing for me to do—high-tail it out of River City before I made a fool of myself.

Grabbing my crutches, I turned around and headed for the side door, hoping to escape before anyone noticed I was gone. Lurching as fast as I could, I made it to the steel gray door in record time and was only inches away from freedom when a hand came out and
stopped me.

“Going somewhere?”

“Get out of my way, Tim,” I whispered fiercely. “I have crutches and I’m not afraid to use them.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tim said, keeping a firm grasp on my arm, “because if you do, you’re going to feel horrible for the rest of your life knowing you ruined the whole play.”

“I’d rather suffer later than look stupid now. Either way, I’m going to ruin the show.”

“The only way you’ll ruin this show is if you leave right now,” Tim replied. “Besides, what’s the big deal? You’ve done way harder stuff this year.”

“Like what?” I asked as I frantically looked over my shoulder, wishing Tim would just shut up already so I could flee before Mrs. Ingram came looking for me.

“Like, you tricked me into wearing a dog costume,” Tim said, counting on his fingers, “you outran a chicken, you got and lost your license in a day, and you made me fall in love with you.”

I stared at him, not sure I heard him right. “I made you what?”

“Fall in love with you,” Tim said with exasperation. “I’ve loved you ever since you first dropped those cookies on my porch over a year ago.”

I stared into his eyes as my brain shifted into high gear. He looked absolutely serious. Oh my God, was there any way possible he actually meant what he was saying? Did Tim really love me?

My face scrunched up as I tried to take this in. “So you’re saying you love me, and yet you’ve dated how many girls in the past six months?”

“I only went out with those girls because I was so freaked out at how much I liked you,” Tim replied, without a hint of his normal arrogance. “I’m only fifteen. I shouldn’t have the feelings I have for you. So I dated a bunch of girls to see if my feelings went away. But the more I tried to mess things up between us, the more I realized
how much of an idiot I was and how much you mean to me.”

“None of this makes any sense,” I said, now completely and hopelessly confused.

Tim grinned. “Hey, we finally agree on something. That has to be a good sign, right?”

“Mia Fullerton!”

Flinching at the sound of my name, I turned around and saw Mrs. Ingram bulldozing toward me. “What are you doing back here, Mia?” she screeched. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. You need to get onstage, now!”

I stammered, “But, but, but—”

“This is not the time for buts,” Mrs. Ingram said fiercely. “Everyone is waiting for you. Now move it!”

Not sure if I was more afraid of making an idiot of myself or of being trampled by Mrs. Ingram, I gave Tim one last helpless look before I crutched toward the stage, Mrs. Ingram shooing me from behind.

I made it to the curtain and was about to step on stage when the realization of what I was about to do stopped me dead in my tracks. My mind raced. Could I really do this? Did I have enough talent? Did I have enough courage? Could I really star in a play?

Abruptly ending any thoughts I had of desertion, Mrs. Ingram shoved me onto the stage. My eyes flew to the audience, and I froze at the sight of all those eyes peering back at me. Praying that this was all just a bad dream, but at the same time knowing it wasn’t—if it was, I’d be in only my underwear—I took a deep breath and moved forward.

Unfortunately, my right crutch did not follow my lead. And as it slipped out from under me, I struggled for just an instant, trying to regain my footing. But it was no use—I was going down. My feet slipped into the air and I fell back...

Suddenly, arms came from behind and caught me. I looked up, thinking God must have sent an angel from above to save me, but
instead all I saw was Cassie’s angry face.

Propping me upright, she hissed, “You can do this, Freak Queen. Now, don’t embarrass me.”

Unbelievably, I survived. It might not have been the best performance of
The Music Man
ever presented—I talked through most of my songs, stepped on Mayor Shinn’s feet during a dance number, nearly punched Jake as he tried to French kiss me, and forgot more than a few of my lines—but I did it. I starred in a musical!

The audience cheered as we took our curtain call and I shook my head in disbelief. I had somehow gotten through the most terrifying night of my life without a major disaster. A feeling of pure joy washed over me as I grabbed Jake’s hand for another bow.

As we lifted our hands into the air, I looked at my parents sitting in the front row, expecting to see pride and adoration, but instead all I saw was shock and dismay. I quickly looked down and realized my secret was out. But as I pulled down my shirt to cover my belly button ring, I decided that, at that moment, I really didn’t care. I’d face my punishment tomorrow. Tonight I was invincible. I was Queen of the World. I was Mia the Magnificent!

At the cast party following the show, I helped myself to a handful of chips and sat on the couch, listening to Mallorie Avery, who played one of the Pickalittle ladies, recount the traumatic events of the night. “And when the River City sign fell on Carter Stemple’s head when he was singing ‘Gary, Indiana,’ I thought I’d die...”

Tuning out Mallorie’s voice, I scanned Lisa’s crowded living room.

Lisa leaned in closer to me. “You can stop looking for Tim. He isn’t here.”

“I’m not looking for Tim,” I said. “I was just wondering where the punch was.”

“Yeah, right.”

“OK, so maybe I was wondering if he came,” I said. “I mean, it would be a shame if he missed the cast party after working so hard on the set and everything.”

“Tim told me he wasn’t up for a big party tonight,” Mike said, “so he went home after the show. He seemed kind of bummed out about something.”

“Now that you mention it, he did look kind of sad,” Lisa said. “Maybe I should go over to his house to make sure he’s all right.”

“You can’t leave your own party,” I said, heaving myself off the couch. “I’ll stop by Tim’s house on my way home. I was planning on heading out soon anyway. All those Tums I ate earlier are starting to make my stomach kind of funky.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Lisa asked.

“No,” I said, “this is probably something I have to do on my own.”

I left Lisa’s house, and as I made my way slowly down the block, the distinct sound of a basketball thumping on the cement grew louder and louder. I smiled. I knew only one person crazy enough to play basketball in sub-freezing temperatures.

Navigating past the side of my house, I rounded the corner and called, “Don’t you know you’re on private property?”

Tim paused in the middle of a free throw. “So sue me.”

“You’re missing a great party.”

“If it’s so great, what are you doing here?” Tim asked as he missed his shot.

“OK, you caught me. It was lame,” I said, stopping the ball with my crutch. “But don’t tell Lisa I said that.”

“My lips are sealed,” Tim replied.

“That would be a first,” I said as I bent over, picked up the ball, tucked it between my elbows, and then crutched toward the basket.

“Uh, haven’t you ever heard of a little infraction called traveling?” Tim asked.

“You’re going to argue with a disabled person?” I balanced myself on one crutch and heaved the ball upward. “Swoosh!”

“That basket so doesn’t count,” Tim said, chasing after the ball.

“See, I’m better than you even when I’m on crutches,” I said. I hobbled over to one of the lawn chairs my parents had been nagging me to put away before the first snow fell, and gratefully collapsed into it.

“So, what’s the deal?” Tim said, dribbling the ball down the court, “Are you going to apologize for being wrong about me or what?”

“Apologize?” I said as I set my crutches onto the ground. “What was I wrong about?”

“You said last night I was only concerned about myself and didn’t do nice things for other people,” Tim said, dribbling the ball through his legs. “Tonight, I proved you wrong by stopping you from leaving so you wouldn’t ruin the show. That proves I’m willing to do nice
things for people—a whole auditorium of people, in fact.”

I swallowed the bowling ball that had just formed in my throat. “Wait a minute. Are you saying the only reason you said all those things to me earlier tonight was to prove me wrong?”