Cal was finishing up with the choir when he spotted her. He handed his guitar to Justin, rushed over, and swept October up in his arms. When he put her down, he whispered something in her ear; she shook her head and touched the side of his face. Then he took her hand and they walked backstage together.

“There you are,” Rae said, suddenly beside me.

She had a small red box of raisins in her hand and big tortoiseshell sunglasses on, even though it was overcast and drizzly.

For the past month, Rae and I had maintained a copasetic, if not affable, relationship. I’d won points with her for the birdcage, and we’d bonded over the fact that we were both fans of the experimental post-rock band Godspeed You! Black Emperor. Meanwhile, I made sure to leave October’s house earlier than necessary every morning so that Rae didn’t catch me there and go back to considering me the enemy.

“You’re coming backstage, yeah? October’s looking for you.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Rae gave me a suit-yourself shrug and walked away.

I wasn’t ready to be in the same room with Cal and October, and I went back to my truck to kill some time. A sharp rage was scratching at my insides. Usually my rage was silent, heavy and immobile, but that afternoon it was a panther pacing around a cage.

I took the friendship contract out of my pocket and read it again.

Forever in truth and music.

The way I saw it, I was going to break a promise that night, and I had a choice. I could break the one I’d made to Cal or the one I’d made to October. When I finally got out of my truck and headed back into the theater, I honestly didn’t know which way it was going to go.

The doors had opened by then, and people were everywhere. At the north entrance I heard someone call my name and was relieved when I turned to see Thomas and Mr. P behind me. They looked out of place in their fancy suits and slick overcoats. I told them to follow me, and I escorted them backstage. I felt safer walking in with them.

When we entered the room, Cal was pouring whiskey into little Dixie cups and passing them out. “There you are!” he said cheerily, handing me one.

The room had filled up with people clamoring for face time with Cal, and he was gregarious and hospitable to all of them. As I walked by, he whispered, “Bear with me while I shake some hands and kiss some babies,” as if this was all part of his job.

October was alone on the couch, and she looked as uncomfortable as I felt. But when she saw me she smiled with hopeful eyes, like she still believed everything was going to be all right. She gestured for me to sit beside her, but I went to the corner and kept to myself.