Glory shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe nothing.” I watch her fiddle with the buttons on her dress. She pulls on the middle one so hard that I’m afraid she’ll pop it off.

“But everyone has secrets.”

ACT II: SCENE 4

All the rest of that day, I wear my mom’s pink sweater. I keep her notebook in my bag next to my script for Midnight Music. I haven’t worked up the nerve to peek inside it yet, but when I go into rehearsal that night, it’s like I’m carrying a little bit of my mother with me. A physical part of her. And that feels good.

We’ve spent the last three days working on the first couple of scenes, but now we’re ready to move on to something new. “Remember,” Willa tells us after warm-ups, “this is scene three. Orion comes back to the courtyard the day after they meet, and he finds Eden there again.”

“Right,” I say. I know the whole play by heart.

Cole leans down to whisper in my ear before we begin. I feel the brush of his dark waves against my cheek. It reminds me of that other tickle—seaweed against the backs of my knees—and I shiver.

“You sleep okay last night?” It’s code between us now, and I know what it means. He’s asking if my feet stayed dry. If I heard any whispering.

“Yeah,” I tell him, and I wait for a relieved grin. He just nods, though. There’s something different about Cole’s eyes tonight. That tightness in his jaw is more noticeable. “What about you?”

He gives me a little bit of a smile. “I don’t sleep,” he says. “Remember?”

His fingers brush against mine. It’s just the briefest of touches, but it shakes me. I want to ask him if he’s okay, but Jude calls, “Lights up,” and we have to jump into the scene.

I’m sitting on the bench, and Cole is walking toward me. He’s humming that song, Eden’s melody, when he slides into his spot.

ORION: Here you are again.

EDEN: Yes, here I am.

ORION: And here I am again.

EDEN: What a funny coincidence.

ORION: I brought you a flower.

EDEN: It’s beautiful.

ORION: You’re beautiful.

I blush then, even though I know it’s ridiculous. He’s just reading the script. But when I look up, Cole isn’t looking at the page, he’s looking at me. I look back down because I can’t bear the intensity in his eyes.