Page 21 of Dungeons and Drama

Nathan puts out a hand to Lucas as if to say,Come on, man.

Lucas ignores him. “Go ahead, Elphaba.”

I clear my throat and stand, turning slightly toward Nathan. Fear flickers across his features and it makes me grin. Oh yes, I’m already liking this very much. I clear my throat and begin singing the first verse of “Say My Name.” Not the Destiny’s Child song—the song I’m singing is the one Beetlejuice sings to Lydia Deetz in the Broadway show. I’ve listened to the soundtrack enough to have it memorized.

Everyone in the back room stops and swivels to stare at me. I project just a bit more and push away from the table so I can sway and do coordinating hand motions in Nathan’s direction. I even do the gravelly, slightly creepy voice that the actor uses. Nathan’s whole face goes red, and he slowly slides under the table, which makes the whole thing glorious.

I’m tempted to keep going, but the song is a duet and without Hoshiko—my eternal duet partner—it’s just not as much fun, so I finish and sit down with a flourish. To my surprise, multiple strangers in the back begin clapping in delight along with Anthony, John, and Lucas (possibly because of Nathan’s mortification). Fred and Arthur, the retired men Dad introduced me to on my first day, call for encores. And Dad must have snuck through the doorway to the back room while I was singing because he’s clapping and his eyes look a little wet. I didn’t think he’d care.

“Now,that’show you play a bard, people!” Lucas yells to the room at large.

“You really don’t have to sing,” Nathan whispers.

“Oh, I know I don’t have to. But I want to.”

“Well, good luck trying to persuade me with my bonus.” He sits up and grabs one of the dice. “Rolling a Charisma-saving throw.”

The die comes up as a five. His eyes go wide, and the other guys break out into raucous laughter. I guess that means he didn’t get the number he needed.

“Elphaba’s songdidpersuade Sol and now she’s officially in the party,” Lucas announces. The other guys whoop and I beam at Nathan.

Dad was right. Thisisfun.

Chapter Seven

I take a deep breath and squeeze the straps of my book bag. It’s Monday afternoon after last bell, and I’ve spent the whole weekend amping myself up to talk to Miss Sahni after choir today. I was at Dad’s for the weekend, which was no better than all the previous weekends together, but it did mean I got plenty of alone time in my room to get ready.

Hoshiko waves at me from the choir door—she has to get to her dance classes so I won’t have her for moral support—and I wave back. She mimes texting and I nod. As soon as this is over, I’ll let her know how it went, though she won’t see the texts until later tonight when she’s out of class.

“Miss Sahni?” I ask as she walks into her tiny office right off the choir room. My voice croaks and my cheeks heat. I’ve got to sound more confident. I try again. “Miss Sahni, do you have a minute?”

Her office is like a glorified closet with a big glass window into the choir room. It’s clear she hasn’t had much time todecorate it. She does have a few framed photos that must be of her large South Asian family and one of her in costume, hugging another girl. They’re standing on a stage as if they’ve finished a performance right before the picture was taken. It gives me a bit of confidence to remember that she’s also a performer. She’ll be on our side.

“Riley, have a seat. Is something wrong? Are you feeling okay about your solo?”

I sit and force myself to smile. “Yes, absolutely. Thank you again for the opportunity.”

“You earned it. You have a lovely singing voice.” She looks me up and down. “What can I help with?”

“I wanted to talk about the spring musical.” Her face falls and I push on before she can interrupt. “It’s so important to me and Hoshiko and so many of us. We can’t let the school defund it.”

“I know how hard this is on everyone. Several students have already told me—I’m so sorry.”

She does sound sincerely sympathetic, but in that way when everyone knows the outcome is inevitable and all that’s left is to commiserate about the unfairness of it all. I’m not ready for commiserating. I’m ready for action.

“There’s still time to change the administration’s mind.”

Her eyes widen. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“You mentioned that they’re looking to save money and chose to cut the musical because of waning interest. Well, I’m positive that we can show them just how popular the musical can be. It’s all about choosing the right musical to pull in interest and having a new director that everyone can rally behind.” I gesture to her. “And that’s you. And I wouldbe happy to help in every way I can—I could run auditions and rehearsals, help with sets and pulling together costumes, whatever it takes.”

A small voice in my mind reminds me that Mom and Dad might have something to say about these promises. That, in fact, Mom told me I can’t do any of that until my grounding is over. But hopefully that will all be in the past by the time Miss Sahni would need me. And, either way, I can’t worry about that now. This is definitely a better-to-ask-forgiveness-than-permission situation.

Miss Sahni’s expression softens at my words. She leans across her desk toward me. “Oh, Riley, that’s really sweet. But I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. Convincing the administration to reverse course is”—she shakes her head—“well, that would be a massive undertaking. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“I do.” I smile and pull out my phone. “I’ve been researching possible musicals we could do and taking notes. I know we should probably consider something low-budget, likeYou’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown,but…I don’t know, in my opinion it’s more important to choose a musical that the students will get excited about so we get more buy-in. Actually, I bet people would love to do something fresh likeSixorHadestown,but I don’t think we can get licensing and then there’s the question of casting and—”

Miss Sahni laughs lightly and I break off.

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