“I wasn’t this sick yesterday.” Jules clutched her stomach, a peaked expression on her face. “I honestly don’t know if I can go on. Are you—oh God—are you ready? Just in case?”
“I’m ready,” Sophie told her. “But I’m not going on, Jules,youare. You’ve been ready for this for years.”
Jules pressed a hand over her mouth, and all the color drained out of her face.
“Listen to me,” Sophie said. “Just close your eyes and listen to me for a minute.”
Jules obeyed, her body tense beneath Sophie’s fingers.
“Slow, deep breaths,” Sophie told her quietly. “You’ve been working toward this moment for what…sixteen years now? You’re going to get up there tonight, and you’re going to do what you’ve trained to do. Don’t look at the crowd right away. You’re going to look for Amir. He’ll be there when you take the stage. Look for Amir, and by the end of the first scene, Tab and I will be there. Focus on us until your nerves have settled.”
Jules nodded, eyes still closed.
“This isn’t that different from the hundreds of other times you’ve taken the stage. You’re just going to be onstage more than you have been in the past, but you’ve got this, Jules.”
She nodded again.
“You need to get out of your head,” Sophie told her. “Keep yourself busy until showtime. Once you step onstage, your instincts will take over.”
“I hope so,” Jules whispered. Her face was alarmingly pale, and a fine sheen of sweat glistened on her brow.
Sophie had never seen her like this, and she was starting to worry. “Are you sure it’s just nerves?”
“What else would it be?” Jules asked, squinting at her with one hand resting over her stomach.
“I don’t know. Is anyone you know sick?”
Jules’s eyes widened. “Not that I know of.”
“You could have eaten something bad.”
Jules groaned.
“Have you ever gotten sick like this before a performance before?”
Jules looked down at her hands. “Not since high school.”
Maybe it was nerves after all. “You’ll be okay as soon as you go on stage. I really think so.”
“What if I’m not?” Jules lurched from the couch and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. When she reappeared, she was shakier—and more pale—than ever. “I’m going to call my mom. Can you get Andrew for me…just in case?”
Sophie stood, indecision swirling inside her. Should she leave Jules or keep trying to calm her? Was shereallyready to go on tonight if Jules couldn’t?
“Please,” Jules whispered, hunched over as if she might puke again at any moment.
With a nod, Sophie left her dressing room. She stood in the hallway for a moment with her back against the closed door. Beneath her concern for Jules, Sophie felt a sting of rejection that she’d essentially been kicked out so Jules could call her mom. Pushing it away, she hurried upstairs in search of their stage manager.
She found him in his office, talking to Kari. Fighting a sinking feeling about what she was about to set in motion, she rapped her knuckles against the doorframe to get their attention.
“Come in,” Andrew said, waving her into his office.
Kari looked at her in surprise. “Sophie? Is everything okay?”
She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans to keep from fidgeting with them. “It’s Jules. She’s sick…or it might just be nerves. She’s afraid she won’t be able to go on tonight.”
Kari’s brows climbed her forehead. “What?”
“Oh dear.” Andrew frowned, lurching to his feet.
