Page 81 of Dungeons and Drama

“Actually, I need to come clean about Nathan. I know we let you believe that we were dating, but that wasn’t true. We were just…pretending…for reasons that I’d rather not go into unless you really need to know. But he doesn’t actually like me.”

“Sure he does,” Dad says immediately.

“Dad.” I roll my eyes. “It was an act.”

“Riley, I’ve known the kid for years. I taught him D&D, and he’s not good at acting. He might have said it wasn’t serious, but he likes you.”

Hope flutters in my chest while I try to mentally squash it into oblivion. Dad is smiling in that way parents smile when they think their kids are adorable, and I smile back. I’ll take his patronizing smiles every day if it means he’s here with me.

“I want to hear more about your musical you mentioned before. What’s happening with that?”

I glance at the clock. By now school is done for the day and the group will be wrapping up their last rehearsal before the administration comes in for the meeting. I feel guilty, abandoning them after all the work we’ve put into the showcase, but hopefully they understand why I need to be here.

“I guess we’ll see what happens,” I say in a nonchalant tone I didn’t realize I possessed. “There’s a meeting with teachers and administrators today to present the plan and put on a performance, but obviously I can’t be there. Hoshiko said she would take care of things and she can do anything she puts her mind to. So, maybe it’ll all work out.”

His bushy eyebrows rise high on his forehead. “Your meeting is today and you’re sitting here with me watchingSeinfeld?”

“Of course. I wasn’t going to stay at school once I found out you were in the hospital.”

“You don’t need to be here now, though. Look at me—I’m fine!” He waves his arm and his IV flops around.

“Dad!” I yell, aggravated. “You are not fine! Curtis had to call nine-one-one this morning. You’re talking to mewhile lying in a hospital bed.You’re as far away from fine as I’ve ever seen you!”

“Oh please, I’m stable. They’re only keeping me overnight so they can run a stress test in the morning. Right now my biggest worry is if they’re going to stick me with the no sugar, no salt dinner menu tonight. What time was your meeting scheduled for?”

I glance at the clock again. “In about ten minutes.”

Dad groans. “You have to go. You’ll be late, but hopefully you can get there for part of it. Call your mom and tell her to come up and get you.”

“It’s too late, don’t worry about it.”

“No, if you’ve been working on this for weeks, then you need to be there today. Use me as a sob story if anyone is upset about you being late—they won’t be able to say no.”

I try to shrug him off, but when Mom returns a few minutes later with chicken wraps and Diet Cokes, Dad is adamant that she drive me back. Surprisingly, she agrees.

“There’s nothing you can do at the hospital right now and the nurses’ station said the doctor won’t be back around until the morning, so there’s no point waiting for more news.” Shehands me my wrap and grabs her keys from her purse. “Text Hoshiko and tell her we’re on our way.”

I want to fight more to stay at the hospital, but it’s hard when both of my parents are on the same page and ushering me out of the room. And, now that I’m sure things between Dad and me are okay and that he’s not about to keel over, I am anxious to see everyone.

I try calling Hoshiko from the car, but she doesn’t pick up. Either they’re about to start the showcase numbers or she’s running around like a madwoman because everything is falling apart. I’m scared it’s option two. I’m nauseous and wish I could teleport to the school, but it’s a fifteen-minute drive. At least I can be there for moral support no matter what happens.

“I can get a ride back to the hospital or call you when I’m done,” I tell Mom when she finally pulls into the parking lot.

“No, I’ll come in with you,” Mom says. “That way if anyone has questions about what happened this afternoon, I’ll be there to address them.” Mom’s gaze is fierce and I blink in surprise. I wasn’t imagining that she’d care this much, especially given everything else that’s happened today. She must read my expression because she continues. “I noticed you didn’t once hesitate to stay at the hospital.”

My eyes widen in horror at the alternative. “I wasn’t going to blow off Dad. What if something had happened?”

“I’m so glad you have your priorities in order.” Mom grabs her purse. “Now let’s go convince those administrators!”

We hurry through the hallway toward the auditorium. My plan is to enter through the backstage side door to find out what’s happening and how I can help, but then an amplifiedvoice grabs my attention. It’s coming through the main auditorium doors. And the accent is Scottish. But I thought Henry was sick? Did Hoshiko convince him to come anyway?

I crack open the doors, Mom at my heels. To my utter shock, Lucas is standing on the edge of the stage with a microphone, narrating the opening ofShrek. And he’s really good.

My hand flies to my face. The auditorium is completely empty except for a small row of adults in the center middle. I can pick out Miss Sahni and Principal Holloway, plus two other people who must be the member of the school board and the Music Boosters president. Hoshiko and Terrance begin their section, singing as Mama and Papa Ogre, and they sound beautiful. Hoshiko pulls all focus to her. Her voice is strong and crystal clear, and her wig and green makeup look perfect.

I bite my lip, debating what to do. I don’t want to distract anyone onstage by rushing to the front where I would usually stand as director. Instead, I creep down the side of the auditorium. If someone misses their mark or things start to break down, then I’ll jump in. But none of that happens.

The performance isn’t perfect, of course. We don’t have professional lighting, so it’s hard to see everyone depending on where they stand onstage, and it looks a little sparse without real sets, but it’s still captivating. Paul, as the grown Shrek, even gets a loud chuckle from the principal when he pretends to use a toy skunk as deodorant. I squeeze my eyes shut in relief. Maybe this will actually work….

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