Chapter 48
ISAK
With intense, focused lights on my face and a hidden mic in my hair, I stand onstage, hands clasped in Lach’s as he gazes into my eyes and sings about how he hates that he’s going to lose me to a computer virus.
How he can’t live without me and he feels helpless.
How he wishes things could be different.
After months of practice, his voice has nuance it didn’t have when we started. He always had a Voice, but now it cracks with emotion and soars with desire. He exudes longing.
I respond on cue to the lyrics and his movements, putting my hand over my heart, stepping closer to him, hopefully letting the whole world see how I feel through my tear-filled eyes and lovestruck expression.
All while trying not to get distracted by the echo of Becky’s words in my head.
The only thing focusing on that would do is guarantee I screw up.
“Pause,” Ms. Laurent calls, and the music abruptly turns off. “Can we swap out the medium red gel for warm amber?” she asks Jamarr.
“Yeah, on it.” A lighting tech hops onstage and removes a tinted sheet of plastic film over a footlight, then replaces it with a different color.
“Great. That’s better. Okay, from the top.”
“You’re sounding great, Lachlan,” Mr. Pascual calls.
Lachlan swallows and nods, and the music begins at the start of the song.
It’s Monday of tech week, and this is the first time we’ve put everything together: costumes, hair and makeup, lighting, music and sound design, set changes and props. It’s a painstaking process with lots of stops and starts.
But every time I hear Lachlan belt out “Malware,” I have to keep the tears from welling and the pressure in my chest from overwhelming me.
If this is how I’m reacting after hearing the song approximately 87,000 times, the audience is going to lose it.
He finishes the song, the lights go down, and he and I hurry offstage to change costumes.
He whips off his shirt, incidentally flashing me his abs, which deserve to be commemorated by an artist. I grin at him, and he gives me a sly smile.
Mindy hands him his shirt for our next scene, and he pulls it over his head.
We’re supposed to be completely silent backstage, but I whisper, “You’re going to make them all cry.”
He blinks. “Yeah?”
“Most definitely. You sound fucking amazing, and I’m so proud to be in this show with you.”
His eyes linger on me like he’s not used to hearing such sincere praise. Maybe he doesn’t get it for personal stuff, only for what he can do on a football field. Finally, he mumbles, “Thanks.”
We watch from the wings for a while, and then it’s our cue to go onstage again—for that scene.
“Like this,” Lachlan says, as Billy. Then he leans in to kiss me—I mean Forest—and, as has been his habit since we got together, he only pretends to put his thumb over my lip. Once the show opens, we’re going to be kissing for real in front of hundreds of people.
I’m totally in love with him.
When we exit the stage, Lach stops to talk with Mr. Pascual about something, and Zanita corners me. “Tell me,” she says. “You and Lach. Just an act?”
My eyes go wide. I open my mouth and close it. Then open it again.
It was only a matter of time before she figured it out. She’s smart, and it’s not exactly like Lach hides that he’s been spending a ton of time with me.
Goth Elmo claps her hands. “That’s what I thought. Good for you. You guys make an adorable couple.”
She spins on her heel and walks away.
Time slips by, and then it’s Thursday. The show opens tonight.
Mom sends me a gift basket at school, full of Haribo goodness.
Lach gives me Wendolyn’s latest book, signed, with bonus character art.
I give him one of my hats and another friendship bracelet I made, and he kisses me behind the science building like he’s starving.
We’re backstage three hours before curtain. Most everyone is milling about the green room, reciting their lines to themselves.
“How are you feeling?” Malik asks as he adjusts his mic.
“I’m trying to not overthink,” I say. “I made it this far.”
He nods. “You’re going to do great.”
“I hope so, but worst-case scenario, if I do what I did last time—knock over a set and go viral—well, as Zanita said, I survived it before. I can survive it again, if need be.”
“Exactly. But that’s not going to happen.” He clicks into his headset, then focuses back on me.
“Becky Hansen told me she bought a ticket for the show,” I say.
Behind me, Jody gasps. “What the fuck?”
I shrug, faking nonchalance. “I need to be braced for her criticism. And even if she doesn’t come, I could still fuck up spectacularly.”
“Or,” Jody says, “you could do as awesomely as you’ve done in every rehearsal.”
“Thanks.” I smile, but nerves are still bouncing around in my belly.
Lach comes over and swings an arm across my shoulder. “You good?” he murmurs. He’s way more affectionate with me backstage than he is anywhere else on campus. The cast and crew have seen us touch hundreds of times onstage, and drama people tend to be physically affectionate with each other anyway.
“Yeah,” I say, studying his face. “You?”
“I’m nervous,” he admits, nuzzling into my neck.
The truth is, I’m worried that Lachlan’s family will come and see his performance. More specifically, I’m worried that they won’t like it. If they come and are supportive, that would be wonderful, but I fear they’re going to react badly—especially his uncle.
At the same time, I’m worried they won’t come at all.
I’m pretty sure them blowing up at him would be worse, but it can’t feel good to have them ignore him, either.
“You’re going to do great,” I tell him. “We both are.”
He smiles and gives me a fist bump. “Agreed.”
Clapping her hands to get our attention, Ms. Laurent gathers all the actors into a circle.
“I’m so proud of all of you for showing up and doing the work and putting on this amazing show.
Go have fun out there and show ’em what you’ve got, because you’ve got a lot to show ’em.
You’re going to make the audience laugh and cry and feel.
I hope you all feel good about the show, because I feel absolutely terrific.
Browser History is going to be the best production Royce High has ever seen.
Okay, bring it in.” She has us form a huddle, our arms around each other.
I’m between Lach and Zanita, and it’s exactly where I want to be. “One, two, three, drama!”
“Drama!” we all cheer. Then we break.
Time continues to move in some sort of fast-forward. Everyone is in final costume and makeup, and then we’re backstage, listening to the murmur of the audience beyond the curtain and waiting for the house lights to go off.
Zanita rushes up to me. “Break a leg.” She air-kisses my cheek.
“You, too,” I manage. “And be villainous.”
“Absolutely,” she says smoothly. And gets into character.
Soon, Ms. Laurent is whispering, “Places.”
We all get in position for the opening number. The music cues up. The curtains part, and the lights are dazzlingly bright. We can make out people sitting in the first few rows, beyond which is total blackness.
Showtime.
And a sense of belonging washes over me. This is what I’m meant to do. I love acting. I love performing. I love putting on another character and sharing them with the audience.
I’m in my element. It feels like everyone else is in their element, too, especially Lachlan.
I sing my solo and dance with the chorus. Lach and I sing our duet. Lach brings the house down with “Malware.” The cheering goes on so long the sound techs delay the next musical cue to allow the applause to subside.
In act two, when Lach kisses me, a whoop rises from the audience. He doesn’t even pretend it’s not a real kiss, although he is facing away from the house, so there could be some doubt.
I look down to hide a smile. I kissed my secret boyfriend onstage, in front of the entire school.
Then the last line is said, and the curtains sweep closed.
We did it. We fucking did it. I love this post-show sense of elation.
We sang. We danced. We acted. We made people feel.
I glance over, and Lachlan’s unabashed, beaming grin must be a mirror of mine. We’re high on adrenaline.
With all the actors headed to the wings, I leap into Lachlan’s arms. He hoists me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my face in his neck.
“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper. “You were amazing.”
“You, too.”
Then, before he sets me down, he kisses me, unconcerned that some of the crew are still back here.
I step to the ground, my hand going over my mouth, my eyes wide.
Lachlan winks.
When it’s time for curtain calls, Lachlan and I enter together, last, and bow, looking out at a massive standing ovation. I hold him against my side and whisper, “We did it.”
“Yeah, we did.”
Afterward, in front of the theater, it’s total chaos. Lachlan is absolutely overtaken by people congratulating him, but he doesn’t let go of my hand until he’s forced to.
“Lachlan, I had no idea you were such a good actor! You totally made me believe you were in love with Isak,” a girl says.
Another guy says, “And you sing, too! How come you never told us you could sing?”
His friend Vince hugs him hard. “You were great.”
“That kiss was so hot,” a girl named Francesca says. “Oh my god.”
“Your voice! You should record that one song,” someone else says.
We’re swarmed, and we take pictures and sign programs. Students get extra credit for going to the musical, and they have to take a selfie with an actor or get an autograph for it to count, so there are a lot of both going on.
My mom gives me a big hug, handing me a bouquet of flowers and passing similar bouquets to Lachlan, Zanita, Jody, Malik, and the rest of my friends. “You were wonderful, Schmoopy!”
“Thanks.”
She whispers in my ear, “Enjoy this moment. Try to enjoy every moment, because they don’t last. None of them. But hopefully things will keep getting better and better for you. I want you to be happy. This is only the beginning, Isak.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I don’t know what else to say.
A wave of emotion comes over me, because she’s given up so much to always be there for me while also giving me the freedom to be who I am.
I love how she’s taken in Lachlan like he’s hers, too.
I give her another hug, and then I’m tackled by Zanita and Jody.
I almost lose Lachlan in the crowd as we chat with other students and members of the public, but then warm fingers close around mine.
It’s him keeping hold of me as he talks with someone else. I want to keep hold of him forever.
Even though what we just did was only an act, what I feel for him is very, very real.