My Life After Now - By Jessica Verdi Page 0,77

the curtain was raised to the sound of applause.

A profound thrill coursed through me and I shivered with excitement. There was truly nothing else like this in the world.

Stephanie Gilmore, who was playing the Chorus, stepped into the spotlight and spoke the prologue directly to the audience. “Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona, where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.”

A grin spread across my face. We were underway.

• • •

It was magic. That was the only explanation.

The play that I’d been so certain was cursed, the play that had never once run smoothly in rehearsal, turned out to be perfect in every possible way. By some divine interference, the cast and crew had come together to create something so much bigger than a high school drama production. This was art.

Even I was convinced that Elyse and Ty were meant to be together.

• • •

When the time came for our fight, I gave Evan a quick wink with my upstage eye. We so had this. We fell into step and waged battle on each other. The lights boring down on us had me sweating through my makeup, and I was crying out with each slash of the sword like a tennis player serving a ball. Again and again our weapons collided with ferocity, inducing involuntary gasps and shrieks of anxiety from the audience. I’d never had so much fun in my life.

But then I suffered my mortal wound and everything changed.

Though I’d said these very lines countless times before, suddenly every word I said seemed to be infused with double-meaning.

Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave woman.

I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.

A plague o’ both your houses!

I fell to the floor as real tears fled down my face.

They have made worms’ meat of me.

I have it, and soundly, too.

Your houses!

Epiphany burst behind my eyelids like fireworks, and everything was abruptly, staggeringly in focus. I lay there, still as a portrait, as the other players continued on without me. But my mind was anything but quiet.

A plague. There was no better word for it. Call it a virus or a disease or an infection. Call it whatever you wanted, but this was truly what it was. A plague. A cureless, indiscriminating, unflinching plague.

I had it. And soundly too.

• • •

The curtain came down, the crowd still on their feet and going wild, and the entire drama club exploded into self-congratulatory celebration. When Andre finally made it past the adoring public and backstage, we quieted down so he could make his traditional post-performance speech.

“I have only one note tonight,” he said, deadpan. “Don’t. Change. Anything!”

We erupted in cheers again, and the party resumed. But I waited for an opening, and when I saw it, snuck away. There was something I had to do.

I quickly changed out of my costume and emerged from the dressing room with my stage makeup still on, hoping I hadn’t missed him. But I was brought up short when I found Evan leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

“Oh. Hi,” I said. I glanced around, but it was just the two of us. Everybody else was still on the stage. “Why aren’t you back there whooping it up with everyone?”

“I saw you duck out. Wanted to see if you were okay,” he said.

I blinked. “Why? Do I seem not okay?”

He considered the question. “You seem fine,” he admitted. “But you’re pretty good at hiding how you’re really feeling, so that doesn’t really mean anything. It seemed like something…happened to you during the show.”

How could he possibly have picked up on that? I’d stayed in character the whole time, I was sure of it.

I searched Evan’s face and what I saw did funny things to my heartbeat. Earnestness. Compassion. Understanding. Love.

He really did care about me.

“Trust you to notice,” I said with a you-caught-me sigh. “Yeah, I had a bit of a moment mid-death. But hey, the play is a tragedy—a little added melodrama can’t hurt, right?”

He stepped closer, his expression serious, and my breathing sped up. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not right now.”

“Well, you know I’m here.”

I looked up into his dark, trusting eyes. “I know.” And then, before I could talk myself out of it, I raised myself up on tippy-toes and kissed him. He gasped in surprise but recovered quickly and pulled me closer to him, kissing me