“The percentage of affection in proportion to pounds weighed results in less of you to love.”
I sock him in the arm, pushing him away. “Seriously? You’re going to get all scientific on me now?”
“Ouch,” he says, holding on to his shoulder like I really hurt him. “My theory is I’m going to love you even if you’re skinny.”
“Why?” I slide my hand back into the warmth of his, leaning my head down until it rests on his shoulder. I want to hear his reasons. After all, he always has data to support his conclusions, right? I think he might say I’m smart and brave and talented. And I think I know now I’m all those things, but he says something else. Something that’s new for me to hear.
“Because you are, and have always been, beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“You should see the crowd out there. I can’t see a single empty seat.” Kristen is panting with excitement.
“You looked?” I turn in my chair, pushing the full skirt of my costume to the side.
“How else would I know?”
“Huge taboo. Theater bad luck.” Chance says, then meets my eyes in the mirror and winks. He’s sitting beside me in a makeshift dressing room and has been torturing Kristen like this for weeks now. “Now you have to turn around three times, kiss your pinkie finger, and touch the stage floor to ward off the bad karma.”
“Is he kidding me?” Kristen turns to me for support.
“Don’t look at me. Evidently, he’s the expert,” I say.
“It’s a total theater thing,” he says.
Kristen nods so enthusiastically the mouse ears on her head almost fly off. She starts turning around slowly and counting out loud.
“You’ve got to stop this,” I say to Chance, while Kristen spins around behind me. “She’ll be exhausted before the first act.”
“She likes it,” he says. “Besides, it helps with the nerves.”
There’s a rustle and a lot of movement behind me, but I can’t turn around because Whitney, who shocked the popular crowd by enlisting as drama makeup tech, is putting the final puff of powder on my face. Volunteering to be in charge of hair and makeup for the production definitely put her evil genius to good use. She says it will all go into her stylist portfolio.
“Sit still,” she grumbles.
“Full house!” Briella’s smiling face pops into the mirror behind a scowling Whitney. She waves a big bouquet of daisies and roses into my line of sight. “We’re in the third row back on your right-hand side. The empty seat is for your dad. He’s on his way, so don’t panic.”
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“No big deal. Randy Marchet tried to rob the Huntsville National Bank. He disguised his face using permanent markers, so he was pretty easy to spot at the Sonic down the street.”
She leans over my shoulder, ignoring Whitney’s glare, and puts the bouquet of flowers on the tabletop in front of me. “These are from your dad.”
Whitney gives up fussing over me with a sigh. “That’s the best I can do for now. Don’t mess it up before curtain.”
“Can I have more eyeliner?” Chance begs.
“You already look like a pirate now,” Whitney says, but she moves over to his side. “Look up toward the ceiling,” she commands.
Briella moves around where I can see her better. “Are you ready?”
“I have to be, don’t I?”
“Nervous?”
“A little bit,” I answer. Maybe more than a little bit.
She leans forward to cup my face in her hands, looking intently into my eyes. “It will all go away once you step out on that stage.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I have something else for you.” She leans back to push her hand deep into her blue jean pocket. I look down in surprise at the gift in the palm of her hand. The tiny silver box is tied with an unusual color of blue ribbon. I remember the color from Rat’s stained fingertips — indigo.
“Take it. He wants you to open it now,” Briella says, holding out her hand.
Picking up the box carefully, I untie the ribbon and lift off the small, shiny lid. Inside is a necklace. I gently pull out the delicate silver chain and hold it up to get a better view. The tiny silver charm twisting there in the makeup lights makes my heart pound.
“What is it?” Chance asks.
“It’s an elephant.”
Several weeks ago, Rat and I had a conversation on the way to rehearsal. I’d told him about the drama exercise with the elephant.
“Watching the video of the elephant was when it all changed for me,” I’d explained.