Lindsey had to admit there was a certain tangible energy in the theater. She didn’t know if it was Robbie or Violet or the cast and crew combined that made the auditorium crackle with electricity, but there was no denying the fact that there was a buzz in the air.

She had Beth, Dylan, Perry and Heather lined up in front of her while she and Nancy took their measurements. Lindsey wasn’t much use with a needle, but she could accessorize the heck out of any outfit.

“Nothing too girly,” Perry was saying.

“You’re wearing tights,” Nancy said as she measured him around the waist. “And if you give me a hard time, I’ll make them hot pink.”

Perry blanched, and the others laughed.

“It could be worse,” Lindsey said. “If you’d been cast as Nick Bottom, you’d have to wear a donkey’s head.”

“That’d be okay with me,” Dylan said. “He has a really cool part.”

Nancy frowned at him and put her hand on his forehead. Then she made a tsking noise.

“What?” Dylan asked.

“You’ve got it bad,” she said.

“Is he getting sick?” Heather asked as she stepped away from him.

“No, he’s just got the bug,” Nancy said. “The acting bug.”

Dylan grinned at her. “I do, don’t I?”

She nodded.

“I can’t help it,” he said. “When I step on that stage, I just feel alive.”

Lindsey studied the handsome teen’s face. He looked as if someone had plugged him in.

“Faeries!” Violet called from the stage. “Front and center!”

The four of them hurried down the aisle, and Nancy looked at Lindsey and said, “About that donkey head . . .”

“Yeah?” Lindsey asked.

“You have any idea on how we’re going to pull that one off?”

“Papier-mâché?” Lindsey suggested.

Nancy slapped her on the back, which pitched Lindsey forward a few feet.

“Thanks so much for volunteering to be in charge of it,” Nancy said. “You might ask Ian if he has any of the supplies you’ll need to make it.”

Before Lindsey could rally a protest, Nancy was striding off in the direction of Milton and Ms. Cole.

“Oberon and Titania, I need your measurements!”

Lindsey glanced at Mary, who was sitting in the back row with a sketch pad, doodling ideas for character costumes.

Mary looked at her and raised both of her hands as if she was a scale.

“Measure Ms. Cole,” she said, and lowered her right hand. “Or make a papier-mâché donkey head.” Then she lowered her left hand.

Lindsey frowned and turned and went in search of Ian. Surely making a donkey head could not be that difficult. The back of the theater opened up into a large loading dock.