“Guys, focus, we’re moving into the finale. All hands on deck!” That was Hunter, official head builder of the St. Genesius Backstagers and unofficial leader of the group. He was a big bear hug of a guy whose tall brown hair added at least a half a foot more to his already impressive frame. He shot an eye roll across the stage to the opposite wing, where Jory, the newest Backstager (and Hunter’s newest boyfriend), was stationed.
Jory was smiling like an idiot. There is a special kind of warm feeling you get from managing to sneak a private moment in a crowded theater, and it is extra special when that private moment is part of a blossoming romance. Averagely tall, averagely built, averagely smart, and averagely social, Jory couldn’t believe that someone as remarkably, unbelievably, write-in-your-journal-about-it awesome as Hunter had noticed him so quickly in his first year at his new school. In his hometown, before his mom got her new job and they had to move, he always considered himself kind of invisible. Maybe that’s why he was so suited to making magic behind the scenes as a Backstager. Here, surrounded by his new friends, excelling in a new role, and finding his groove in a new place so quickly, he didn’t feel invisible at all. Tonight he felt incandescent.
“Have they gotten to the part about how they’re too artsy to pay their bills? Oh wait, that’s been all night . . .” Aziz wasn’t much impressed with the message of Lease. In fact, Aziz had found most of the shows St. Genesius had produced in his time as a Backstager cheesier than the kind of birthday cards parents give to each other. All that emotion, all that enthusiasm, all that SINGING—it made him cringe a thousand cringes. Still, as much as he hated what was happening onstage, he loved being backstage exponentially more, so he put up with it. Plus, Sasha was his best friend from childhood, and it was his duty to look out for him. Two birds, one glittery, obnoxious, all-singing, all-dancing stone.
“Hey, everybody shut UP,” Beckett commanded. “Her song is starting!”
All the Backstagers went quiet on headset, because Bailey Brentwood, a student from the nearby Penitent Angels School for Girls and, without question, the Coolest Girl in the World, was beginning her big number. For every show, St. Genesius brought in one girl from Penitent to play the female lead, and for the last three years, Bailey was cast every time, because she was truly a star. Even Aziz had to marvel at how she could take the most clichéd, classic show tune and make it fresh and personal. Moreover, unlike so many of the other actors who were loud, hyperactive, and generally terrifying to the Backstagers, Bailey could hang.
They also went quiet because they all knew how much Beckett loved watching Bailey sing. Beckett and Bailey had become close friends freshman year when he was a student at Penitent Angels. Beckett transferred to Genesius before this, his sophomore year, and now he only got to hang with Bailey during the runs of the shows. He missed her a lot. The guys also knew that Beckett had a big, fat, teen-movie crush on Bailey, but he didn’t know that they knew and so they let him go on thinking that he was smooth about it.
Bailey had an inner glow about her, but she also had an outer glow with her impossibly sleek and shiny long dark hair and skin that was almost literally golden. As she began her plaintive solo, “Today Is Our Only Day,” you could hear a fly’s heartbeat, the audience was so still. Sasha was feeling very relieved that he’d let one rip when he did, because if any gas escaped him now, Beckett would surely place an eternal curse on him and his entire family. It was shocking, then, when Beckett broke her spell, speaking low and urgently over the radio.
“Backstagers. We have a problem.”
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The Good Egg Page 11