Opening night is a huge success. The music and choreography are beautiful, the actors do a phenomenal job, and even though I’m standing in the wings with a headset on, it’s easy to get swept up in the magic. When the curtain comes down at the end, everyone behind it squeals and jumps up and down, and despite the fact that I had practically nothing to do with the show, I feel that joyful, relieved swelling in my chest that a good performance always brings on. Zoe and Livvy and a bunch of the other fairies crush into a group hug, and I stand in the dark and watch them glitter.
The moment the curtain call is over, the whole cast rushes the wings and stampedes downstairs to the dressing rooms, chattering and laughing with high-pitched, adrenaline-spiked intensity. Livvy and Kenji and Todd high-five me as they zoom by, and even Pandora spares me a tiny, closed-mouthed smile. I position myself so Zoe will run into me before she hits the stairs, and my heart beats a little faster when I see her approaching. For a second I wish I’d gotten her flowers, but maybe that would’ve been weird.
“Hey,” I call when she’s within earshot. “You were really great. Congratulations.”
“Thank you!” Zoe throws her arms around me, and I can feel how warm she is underneath her unitard. When she lets go after only a second and moves toward the stairs again, disappointment floods through me. We’ve barely gotten to connect lately, and I want more of her than this.
“Do you feel like it went well?” I ask, to keep her from leaving. “It looked fantastic.”
“Yeah, it felt good!” She’s looking back and forth between me and the rest of the fairies, like she doesn’t want to be rude but also doesn’t want to lose track of them.
“Go ahead,” I say, even though it sucks, because I don’t want to be the weight that ties her down when she obviously wishes she were somewhere else.
“Okay. I’m gonna go change. I’ll see you at the cast party?”
I had assumed the cast party was an exclusive thing for people who were actually in the cast. “Am I invited?” I ask.
Zoe looks at me like I’m crazy. “Um, obviously! You worked on the show.”
I’m about to say I hardly did anything, but then I remember I’m supposed to be trying to disparage myself less often. Plus, I really want to go. “Yeah, sure, I’ll see you there,” I say.
“Great! Common room of Dewald.” Zoe blows me a kiss and runs off. Even in the dim blue lights of backstage, she sparkles.
My friends will probably take a while to make their way over to the party, and I don’t want to show up alone, so I go back to my dorm to change out of my black run-crew clothes. Even after I’m ready to go, I wait fifteen minutes to make sure I won’t be the first one to arrive. It starts to rain as I leave Ramsey, and I jog toward the party as quickly as I can, hoping my hair won’t be frizzy by the time I get there.
The Dewald common room is huge, and it’s decorated with the same giant, stylized flowers as the set; there must’ve been some left over. Russell waves to me from across the room, and I’m heading toward him when a girl I don’t know bounces up to me and extends a red plastic cup. “Midsummer cocktail?” she asks. She doesn’t seem to care who I am or whether I belong here.
“Sure, thanks,” I say. I’ve never really had any alcohol besides wine, but I guess tonight is a good night to start, so I take a sip. The drink tastes like pineapple mixed with nail polish remover, and I have to struggle not to cough. Hopefully I’ll get used to it.
My friends are sitting in a circle on the floor with a bunch of other apprentices and non-equity people, and Zoe scoots toward Livvy to make room for me. Both of them are wearing tank tops and shorts, but they haven’t bothered to remove their fairy makeup: lavender lipstick, glitter dusted across their cheekbones, feathery false eyelashes, and so much metallic eye shadow that I’m surprised they can blink. Zoe looks like a burlesque dancer who’s ready to get on the subway after her show. Livvy looks like a little girl who raided her older sister’s makeup drawer.
Zoe smiles. “Oh good, you already have a drink. We’re playing Never Have I Ever.”
I’m not a huge fan of games like this—I’ve never done any of the crazy things people come up with, and I’m not eager to seem boring in front of my new friends. But it would look much weirder if I refused to play, so I say, “Ooh, fun.” These kinds of situations generate the stories that will get retold for the rest of the summer, and even if I can’t really be part of it, I still want to be around to see it.
“Never have I ever smoked pot in my house while my parents were home,” Kenji announces.
Three of the other guys and a non-eq girl with a choppy haircut drink, and everyone else laughs. “You drink if you’ve done the thing, right?” I whisper to Zoe.
She nods. “Haven’t you played this before?”
“I have,” I say. “Just checking.” After the doughnut incident, I figure it’s always safest to make sure of the rules. I want to take a sip of my drink so I’ll have something to do with my hands, but then it would look like I was reacting to the pot question, so I spin the cup around and around on the floor in front of me instead.