“You should tell him,” I said quickly. “I mean, I don’t know how he feels about you, and I know there might be a lot of reasons why you haven’t told him, and I respect that, but I just want you to consider the possibility that if you don’t tell him now, it might be too late, and you won’t get a chance to do it at all.”

I caught my breath. Harrison was looking at me, eyes wide with confusion. “Wait, why would it be too late?”

“I don’t know, it just could be, okay?” I said, my voice rising. “And then he might never know, which is fine as long as you’re okay with that. Are you okay with that?”

“Whoa,” Harrison said, his hands out in front of him. “I will. I mean, I’ve been planning on telling him.”

“Hey.” Jude came up to us and I startled. He looked back and forth between me and Harrison before squinting at me. “Everything all right?”

I stood up as nonchalantly as I could, telling myself to get a grip. “Yup. Bye, Harrison,” I said, and for the second time that night, I walked past Jude to the car.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

THE WEEK BEFORE OPENING NIGHT was called Tech Week, and it was extreme. Rehearsal every single day from four thirty to eleven o’clock. My parents were thrilled that I was so busy. To them, singing and dancing within the bounds of Eagle View sounded like good, wholesome fun. My parents had clearly never gone through a Tech Week.

“Jesus, get a room!” Margot yell-whispered as she walked into and then swiftly out of the utility closet backstage. Noah and Laurel were in there making out, but they hauled ass when they saw Margot’s face. Margot sighed as she stowed her cigarette holder prop on one of the shelves. “What is wrong with people?”

I shrugged halfheartedly. Excitement and exhaustion and nerves were making everyone in the cast lose their inhibitions—except me. Mine were still firmly in place, keeping me from testing the waters to see if Jude had changed his mind about not being ready for a relationship.

The last few weeks, we’d been having amazing Vamp and ballet rehearsals together, which sometimes gave me hope. But I had to remind myself that we were playing roles. The real Jude just wanted to be friends, and I had to respect that. It sucked.

I turned to watch from the wings as Jude, Ethan, and Diya did “Good Morning.” It was already ten thirty and we still hadn’t finished Act 1. Mrs. Sorenson and Ms. Langford had to work through some major issues with the lights, so we had to run certain numbers a million times. We definitely weren’t going to get to “Broadway Melody” tonight, which meant I wasn’t going to dance with Jude tonight, which, again, sucked.