16 Orange You Having Fun

CHAPTER SIXTEEN ORANGE YOU HAVING FUN? Surface Tension (noun). That's when molecules cling to each other, sometimes pulling inward at the surface and making a bubble. THE NEXT MORNING, on Wednesday, despite the blow-up with Avery, I couldn't wait for theater camp to begin. I had on my pink cowboy boots that my grandparents in Texas got me for my last birthday, so I felt more jazzy. But I was mostly jazzed because of a big problem I had to solve. Would my fire breathing plan actually work? The show was Saturday afternoon, only three days away. It was the tech rehearsal. This meant all of the lighting, the set, and the props had to be in place. It was very busy. Parents lugged in pieces of scenery, including giant fake boulders, a rainbow banner, and dragon treasure. After everything was set up, Mrs. Hansberry gathered us together in front of the stage.

"Though this isn't a full-dress rehearsal, please put on your costumes so we can make sure everything is working and looks good under the lights." Mrs. Hansberry pointed to a fake volcano and giant tarp painted to look like a cave. "Didn't the crew do a marvelous job with our lovely set?" A bunch of kids clapped, and I thought about how amazing it was that everything was coming together. "I want to acknowledge our volunteer parents who dragged in all sorts of props today," continued Mrs. Hansberry. "I'm afraid most of them have left, but we want to offer our heartfelt thanks." There were more cheers and hoots, and about fifteen minutes later, everyone had on their costumes. The dragons wore bodysuits with their long tails. The unicorns all wore white shirts and their horns. With the house lights down and the spotlight making a large circle of light on center stage, everything did look very different. Almost professional-looking. The volcanos in the set

seemed as though they were about to rumble. I thought for a moment about asking if I could make them erupt—Dr. Caroline had a great demo for that —but decided it was more important to focus on the dragons. Mrs. Hansberry strolled down the aisle and clasped her hands together to greet me. "Kate, I'm quite eager to test out the smoking Cheetos." Like my mom, she seemed to have mind reading abilities. "I'm particularly pleased that Ms. Daly will be joining us this afternoon to help you out." "Me too!" Mrs. Hansberry told me that Ms. Daly was back from her trip to St. Paul. She said Ms. Daly would take care of the liquid nitrogen if I could take care of the rest. "I've brought the Cheetos, like I promised," I said. "Excellent. I knew you would. We'll just roll up our proverbial sleeves and see what sort of dragon magic we can cook up." "Awesome!" "While I tend to some backstage issues," said Mrs. Hansberry, "can you make sure the unicorns go over their dance finale? I'm especially concerned that the lead roles remember all of their cues. It's not easy dancing and remembering lines." "Sure thing!"

This time I didn't drop my backpack on a seat in the auditorium. This time I kept my backpack with me. On my shoulders. I wasn't going to let anyone mess up my stuff. But instead of heading backstage, Mrs. Hansberry stepped closer to me and lowered her voice. "Things got a little heated yesterday between you and Avery. I'm hoping things go much smoother today. It's not like you to get into any sort of loud argument. But I know nerves are a little frayed as we get so close to performance time. I appreciate you being calm today." "No problem," I said, picturing my nerves fraying during the fight yesterday. I didn't think that was scientifically possible, but I'd have to look it up. I really couldn't wait to try the Cheeto experiment. My stomach was bubbling with excitement. Bubbles meant lots of carbon dioxide trying to escape. It was mostly a happy bubbly feeling but also made me feel like I had too much energy inside. After lunch, we worked on the second half of the show. Up onstage, the unicorns practiced their finale, and I had the script out with all of the cues marked in red. A cue is the last line before someone new speaks or moves. Actors really need to listen

well and say their lines right away, so there's no awkward silence. Birdie never forgot a cue, and she never forgot any of her lines. "The dragons are winging overhead. We should hide," said Mia Wong, who played Birdie's sister unicorn. "If we hide, they will find us," said Steven McFee, a fourth grader, who played their little brother unicorn. "No hiding!" cried Memito Alvarez, a fifth grader playing the grandfather dragon. "We should fly away." "But I'm a unicorn and not Pegasus," said Birdie, not even once looking down at her script. Which was amazing. Everyone had to be completely off-book by Friday for the dress rehearsal, but she'd done it two days early—and she had the most lines. Off-book doesn't literally mean off a real book. It just means that the actors need to have memorized all of their lines, and they can't hold a script in their hands. It was another theater thing I learned from Mrs. Hansberry. I'm really not sure how Birdie memorized everything so quickly. Of course, it was only a twenty-five-minute musical, but still. Mrs. Hansberry said that most plays take weeks and

weeks of rehearsal to get off-book. I was proud of everyone for being willing to learn their lines so fast. Especially my BFF. Looking up from the script, I was surprised to see that Birdie's face had turned strawberry red. Was she overheated? Today, for the first time, the spotlight was on, and Elijah and the lighting crew were working on making sure the rest of the lights ran smoothly. No, Birdie couldn't be hot. I rubbed my arms. That didn't make any sense. If anything, it was chilly in the theater. Instead of keeping her eyes looking straight into the audience during the dance number, Birdie continued to glance at the other performers. With her head turned, Birdie bumped into a fellow unicorn. "Sorry!" Birdie squeaked. As they started again doing a little leap, Birdie missed her cue and fell with a clunk. I rushed toward the stage. "Are you okay?" The other unicorns hovered over her. "No," said Birdie, her cheeks pink and her eyelashes glistening with tears. "It was my fault. I can't keep count of the dance steps while I'm also remembering my lines."