I find him backstage leaning against the cardboard cutout we use for a cow.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he says weakly.

“You okay?”

“I’m all right,” he mutters. “I just need a minute.” He’s picking at his nails. They look naked without any polish. Mrs. Nicky made him take it all off for the show.

“Hey, listen—” I sit beside him against the cow. “You were great in rehearsal. Really. You know all your lines and your blocking. You’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I know I’m awesome. But—” He starts to run a hand through his hair, then stops because Geneva hair-sprayed it up into a hard shell. “Lou, this is my first show.”

“I know—it’s opening night. Everybody’s nervous,” I say.

“No, I mean, this is my first show ever.”

“But—”

“I know. I went on and on about being a thespian, but they don’t let you do theater until sixth grade! So even though I’ve been an actor in spirit since forever, this is, you know, my first time being onstage.”

I know this is my moment to give the big inspirational “go get ’em” talk. But I’m not Mrs. Nicky, or Well for that matter, with the speeches at the ready. I’ve only got one thing that might help, but I don’t know if I can do it. I look at Well’s pale nails, the line under his chin where the makeup stops in an awkward swipe. He’s swallowing over and over again, like he might really vomit. I can’t believe I’m going to do this. I’m not even sure I can. But I’m going to try.

“Okay, listen, don’t get used to this, but… three-second firm hug, okay?”

He sits up. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” My stomach churns like a million fish in a net. “Now. Do it before I change my mind.”

I hold my breath. We hug, awkwardly, because he’s in full makeup and I’ve got my headset on. And also because we are leaning against a cardboard cow.

“Better?” I say a little shakily when we let go.

He grins. “Much.”

“Good.” I tap my headset. “Because Mrs. Nicky’s telling everyone to get in position.”

I see him do another panicky swallow, but he gets up and slips behind the closed curtain to his spot, marked with an X. I wipe my palms on my jeans. My first big job as assistant director, and friend, I think, is done.

Mrs. Nicky takes the stage in front of the curtain. Tonight she has a long green silk scarf wrapped around her throat and glittery green earrings like leaves. She looks like a glamorous and slightly dangerous snake. Jacob brings the house lights down and narrows a spotlight on her.