I snatch the backpack I left near the front door and escape into the night.

62. A Girl Is Braving Another Open Mic

JAMIE

September 5, Saturday Evening

New Jersey

I forgot to grab a jacket. I’ll have to make do with this Daenerys Targaryen cloak. Luckily, I had the foresight to steal a red lipstick from my mother’s bathroom earlier. I do my best to apply it now with a compact as the train rumbles into the city. I don’t want people thinking I’m doing a Game of Thrones bit for open mic, and red lipstick plus my Siri-dark hair is a hard left from Dany’s look.

I told Mara I was turning off my phone, but I haven’t been able to actually do it. I haven’t heard from Dawn. I dial her again as I step outside onto Eighth Avenue.

This is the last chance I’m going to have to get her thoughts on my set before I stand up in front of people again and possibly confirm or deny my ability to do comedy. I leave her a message: “Dawn, please, please, please pick up. I miss you so much and I need to talk to you tonight, please.”

I try her four more times before I drop the phone in my backpack.

Zarar meets me at the entrance to QCZ. “Whoa, is this a … comedy costume?”

I shake my head. “No, I attempted a parent confrontation thing during dinner.”

“Ah.” He nods. “How’d it go?”

I pull on a smile. “Okay. I brought you something.” I pull my pack to the side and yank out the brie, macaroni, and apple sandwich I salvaged. “A Grilleroni with a twist if you get hungry.”

The left edge of his lip goes up. He takes the Rubbermaid carefully, like I’ve presented him with a sacred gem. “Thank you, Jamie.”

I shrug. “Hope you like it. Pop it in the microwave.”

“Will do.” He tucks it under his arm. “You look upset.”

I shake my head vigorously and smile harder, my cheek muscles hurting. “I’m not upset. I’m great. Where can I wait till it’s time to do this thing?”

He puts a hand on my back and leads me past the line of people waiting outside, into the tiny theater, through a door, all the way back to their very tiny, very full green room.

“I have to work, but I’ll be back when it’s almost time,” Zarar says.

I nod and shoo him away before taking a seat in one of the folding chairs scattered about. I pull out Siri’s iPhone. I’m becoming addicted to this thing and I don’t like it.

I suck in a sharp breath. I missed a text.

Dawn: Can’t talk today, Jamie. Need a little more time. Siri will call you later and fill you in on how everything went.