“There’s so much that could go wrong though. What if someone forgets their lines? Or what if there’s a blackout? God, we’d have no lights, no sound . . .”

“When was the last blackout around here?”

He paused and lifted a hand to run his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, a year ago, maybe?”

“So how likely is it there will be one during the play?”

“You’re right,” he muttered. “Still, something could happen.

Why the hell am I doing this? Jesus, I should have never agreed to do this.”

“Jasper.” I turned around to face him and waited until his eyes—a stormy ocean today, all seafoam and crashing waves—

met mine. “This is what you do. Queer media for queer people, right? Today you can make that happen. It’s going to be good.

Hell, it’s going to be bloody brilliant.”

He opened his mouth, probably to list a few more ways his play could be ruined, but was interrupted as Miss Pepperman suddenly stuck her head through the door. “Oh, there you two are! I’ve been looking everywhere . . . I couldn’t let the show start without wishing you good luck, now, could I?” she chirped.

Jasper’s face lit up considerably as she made her way towards us. “Thank you, Miss Pepperman.”

She clapped her hands, looking from Jasper to me and back.

“Are you nervous? Thrilled? Anxious?”

“Excited probably describes it best,” Jasper answered.

Liar, I mouthed. He pretended he didn’t see it.

“I can tell! You have worked so hard on this, so many hours of work leading up to just these forty minutes on stage . . .” She sighed dreamily. Then she suddenly turned to me. “And you, Seth? Are you also excited?”

I gave a small shrug. “I’m excited to see it come together, but I’m only doing the lights, so . . .”

“What do you mean, you’re only doing the lights? That’s a great deal of responsibility to take on! One wrong button and the entire stage is plunged into darkness!”

I gulped, a horrible vision of Jasper’s disappointed face making the buzz in my head louder again.

“Nothing like that is going to happen,” Jasper quickly interjected. “Seth is always perfect.”

“Of course he is. You boys are such bright kids, so ahead of your time!”

“Thank you, Miss Pepperman. You should really get back to the auditorium now, to get a good seat and alll. . .”

“Yes, yes, of course! I can’t wait for the play to begin. Break a leg, boys!” she exclaimed, before scurrying out of the room.

The smile vanished from Jasper’s face as soon as she was gone.

“Oh God, this has to be good, she’s expecting so much—”

“You could never disappoint her,” I said, trying to sound comforting even though my own heart was racing now. “You could put a lit le hamster in a wheel on stage and start yodeling and she would think it was art.”

Jasper’s shoulders lost some of their tension at that. “You have a vivid imagination, mignon,” he laughed. “Maybe you should be writing plays.”