“No, we’re just about to start. Have a seat!”
I turned and saw Eva waving at me. I sank into the seat next to her, still feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes. Behind me, a volley of whispering had started up among the other kids.
“Great idea, asking me here. I feel very included and not at all like a carnival sideshow attraction,” I said with a big fake smile.
Eva chuckled. “Like I told you earlier, you can either hide away and let the rumors tell the story, or you can show up and help out and let everyone see how boring and normal you are.”
“Could we just do a quick demonstration of magical skill and get it over with?” I murmured, thinking about the scones at home. Rhi had tried to salvage them with frosting and placed them on a plate, as though anyone would be tempted by the culinary equivalent of vanilla coated hockey pucks. I glanced around me, and realized I didn’t see Nova among the other kids. “Hey, where’s Nova?” I asked.
Eva shrugged, and her brows pulled together. “I don’t know. I thought she might come, but then she didn’t respond when I offered to pick her up.”
I frowned. She’d sounded like there was something important she’d wanted to tell me. So why hadn’t she bothered to show up? But there was no time to dwell on it as Zale started calling for everyone’s attention, flapping his hands like he might take off. When everyone stopped muttering and turned to face him, he smiled again, taking a deep breath.
“Hello everyone! Thanks for coming. When I got voted chair of the Litha pageant committee, I promised that I would make this the best midsummer celebration yet, and I intend to keep that promise!”
“Just for the record, no one voted for you. You won by default, because no one else wanted to do it,” called the broad-shouldered guy sitting in the row behind me. I thought his name might have been Sergei, but I couldn’t swear to it.
Zale’s smile froze on his face, but only for a moment. “Thank you for that clarification, Sergei. Regardless of how I wound up at the helm of this project, it is still going to be the greatest pageant this town has ever seen!” He thrust his fist into the air, as though expecting everyone to shout “HUZZAH!” His exuberant gesture was met with silence.
Someone cleared their throat. Zale sighed and lowered his fist.
“Okay, fine, moving on. To start, I thought that we could?—”
The door at the back of the theater swung open and the boy from the box office strolled down the aisle, munching on an apple. He gave a casual sort of wave to Zale, and slid into a seat toward the back of the theater.
“Oh, hey, Luca. Thanks for unlocking the place for us.”
“No sweat,” the boy called Luca replied. “It’s 7:15, so I locked the doors again like you asked.”
Eva turned to Zale. “You had him lock the doors? Why?”
Zale rolled his eyes and huffed. “Because obviously I don’t want to give away any of the details. I want the town to be surprised. I want them to be blown away!”
Eva opened her mouth to say something snarky, but I interrupted her by asking, “Who is that?”
“Him? Oh, that’s Luca Meyers.”
“Wait, Meyers? As in the Meyers who own this place?”
“That’s right. Hence the keys.”
“He wasn’t at the bonfire, was he?” I asked, hoping Eva would miss the subtext, which was that if he’d been at the bonfire, Idefinitelywould have noticed him.
Based on Eva’s smirk, I failed with the whole subtext thing. “He doesn’t live here during the school year. They only come up for the summers.” She rolled her eyes, as though she couldn’tthink of anything more ridiculous than someone coming to the beach for the summer.
I had about five hundred more questions about Luca, but I bit them back as someone in the group raised their hand.
“Yes, Petra?” Zale called, looking delighted at the engagement.
“Look, no offense, but what could we possibly give away that everyone in the town doesn’t already know?” Petra asked. “I mean, we’ve used the same script, the same costumes, the same props every single year since… forever.”
There was a round of mumbling and nodding. Apparently, Petra wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
Zale was not daunted by the general pall of negativity. “I’m glad you brought that up, Petra! You’re absolutely right! I know our parents and grandparents insist it’s traditional, but let’s be honest, this pageant is tired. It needs a new twist. And that’s why we’re here. We’re not just assigning parts and handing out scripts tonight. We’re reinventing the pageant!” Zale turned and wrote the words, “Reinventing the Pageant” in big red letters on the easel pad. He embellished it with half a dozen exclamation points, and underlined it three times for good measure. He looked expectantly at the group, who stared blankly back.
“So… how are we reinventing it?” a girl asked.
Zale’s smile slipped. “Well, that’s… that’s what we’re gonna figure out. I need your ideas. Let’s start brainstorming!”
