But what if it didn’t go well?
A blond head in the audience caught Spencer’s eye. Mrs. Hastings sat four rows from the front, her diamond earrings sparkling in the lights. Melissa and Darren Wilden were in the seats next to her, their eyes trained on the witches on the stage. Astonishingly, Amelia sat beside Wilden, leafing apathetically through the program. And Mr. Pennythistle was on the other side, dressed in a gray suit and tie, which made Spencer’s heart warm a little. It was cute that he’d dressed up for this.
Two aisles back, Spencer’s gaze halted on another face. A redheaded girl watched the stage, chewing feverishly on a piece of gum. Spencer clapped a hand over her mouth.
It was Kelsey.
Spencer’s legs felt wobbly beneath her. Then she saw the girl next to her and almost fell over. Emily’s open, kind face stared back. They were here together.
Slowly, Kelsey’s gaze turned toward Spencer. Her eyes narrowed. She raised one hand and gave Spencer a three-fingered wave, her smile large and off-kilter. Spencer lowered the curtain and staggered backward, tripping over a pile of discarded petticoats.
“Hey.”
Spencer shrieked and whirled around. Beau stepped back and covered his face. He was wearing a suit of armor that was molded perfectly to his body. “You all right? Not too nervous?”
“Of course not.” But Spencer’s heart was thrumming like an out-of-control needle on a sewing machine. She was dying to peek around the curtain again. Why was Kelsey here? Was she hoping Spencer would have a repeat of last night’s performance in the woods with Beau and blurt out all of her secrets on stage?
“Spencer!” Pierre strutted forward and looked Spencer up and down. “Get over here and take your place for your first scene!”
For a moment, Spencer’s limbs wouldn’t move. She wanted to run out the back door and all the way home. She couldn’t go out there—not with Kelsey in the audience. But then everything went into warp-speed. Pierre guided her toward the wings and out onto the stage. The lights felt like hard, iron weights on her skin. Faces from the audience tilted up at her; all of their smiles looked jagged and cruel. She spied Kelsey in the audience immediately. Kelsey was staring right at her, the same maniacal grin on her face.
Feeling guilty about something, murderer? Kelsey’s voice from her vision cackled in her ear.
We know what you did! Tabitha crowed.
The crowd was quiet, waiting. Someone coughed. Spencer knew she was supposed to say her first line, but she couldn’t remember what it was. Pierre made frantic gesticulations offstage. Then, a small voice whispered from behind the curtain. “They met me in the day of success.” It was Edith, the assistant drama coach and prompter, delivering Spencer’s first line. Spencer had never had to use a prompter before.
Her mouth flopped open like a fish’s. A small squeak escaped from the back of her throat, amplified by the many microphones set up around the stage. Someone in the audience snickered.
Edith whispered her lines again. Finally, Spencer opened her mouth and managed to start talking. She got through her first speech, but it took great effort to say each word. She felt like she was moving through mud, yelling from the bottom of a very deep well.
Felicity McDowell, who was playing her attendant, entered the scene. Spencer fumbled her next line, then the next. She gazed desperately at the blinking eye of the videographer, recording everything. Her nervousness was infectious; Felicity missed a line, too, then tripped over a set piece. By the time Beau strutted onto the stage, announcing that the king was coming to see them tonight, Spencer felt like she was going to cry. At the end of the scene, Spencer staggered off stage, feeling like she’d completed an Iron Man triathlon.
Pierre blocked her way, hands on hips. “What the hell was that?”
Spencer kept her head down. “I’ll get it together. I promise.”
“You promise? It was unacceptable!”
Pierre snapped his fingers, and Phi Templeton scurried over like an eager dog. She was dressed in a similar gown to Spencer’s. In her hand was the Macbeth script, Lady Macbeth’s parts underlined.
“Why is she dressed like me?” Spencer exclaimed.
“Thank God I told her to get dressed,” Pierre spat. “I was afraid something like this might happen, so I told her to get ready to take over the role.”
Spencer’s jaw dropped. “You can’t switch out actresses in the middle of a play!”
Pierre put his hands on his hips. “Watch me. You get one more chance. If you choke again, Phi’s in.”
Spencer sank dizzily against a low table as Pierre stormed away, wondering if she should give the role over to Phi now. There was no way she could send the scene she’d just performed to Princeton. She’d hear them laughing all the way from New Jersey.