“Who made it?” I asked. The paper looked faded, even from the stage.

“No one knows. It’s probably, like, twenty years old.”

I started giggling.

“What?” Jude smiled at me as we stepped away from the curtain, back into the dimness of the stage.

“I’m sorry, but the Happy Crack is a total letdown. You guys built it up so much.”

“You’ll see,” he said. “You’ll understand the Happy Crack one day.”

He circled an arm around my waist, and I put my arms over his shoulders. “So also,” he said, pulling gently on one of the waves Josie had meticulously crafted. “I called my dad today.”

“Really?”

“I said if he wanted to see me again, he could see me in this. I have no idea if he’ll come. But we’ll see.”

I ran my hand through his hair. “I think that’s great.”

“I think you’re great,” Jude said, giving me his cockiest Don Lockwood grin.

“Save it for the show,” I said, leaning in nevertheless.

Our lips were almost touching when a hand made a swift slicing motion near our faces.

“No smudging your makeup!” Ms. Langford said. “Wait till after,” she added with a wink before walking away. Before, that would have killed the mood dead. But now, nothing could make me stop wanting to kiss Jude.

Diya’s sparkling voice resonated through the auditorium as the orchestra played the first jaunty notes of “Good Morning.” It was the end of Act 1 already. I couldn’t believe how quickly it had gone by. The audience was responding to everything just right, and that feedback was energizing us. We were performing better than we ever had.

I crept into the wings to watch. I looked at Diya for any signs of nervousness, but I shouldn’t have worried. Instead of wrapping the coat around her waist and doing the hula, she flung the coat dramatically to the side and started head-banging, pelvic thrusting, all the things we’d practiced. Our inspiration was the Rocky Horror dance at the pre–cast party. We wanted to capture that sense of wild abandon, of letting go completely.

At first Jude and Ethan stared at Diya, completely dumbstruck. Then they snapped their heads around to look at each other, like Do you know what’s going on? It was so synchronized it almost seemed choreographed, too. The audience ate it up. And then, the grand finale: Diya did the worm. Or, failed to do the worm, which was the plan. It was funnier that way. The audience started cheering before the song even ended. I wanted to know where the casting people were sitting, how they were reacting, but that was impossible. Still, whatever they thought, Diya killed it.