right now!â I said, rolling my eyes.
âYour turn!â Jazzy exclaimed, jumping off the chair.
âNo way.â
âIf you canât perform in front of your best friend, how can you perform in front of the whole school?â
âExactly!â
âWe crack each other up all the time! Youâre always goofing around. You should be used to this.â
âBut itâs not the same. Iâll be up there alone.â
âWeâll all be up there alone.â
âYou have Leo.â I put my hand to my forehead. âMy head feels warm. Do you think I have a fever?â
âIâm hot too. Itâs Leoâs scorching image. Iâll put him in the closet.â
âNo, I really think Iâm sick.â
âJust take a deep breath and read from your comedy notebook. I promise I wonât laugh,â Jazzy said, and laughed out loud. âDid you get that, Trix? That was a joke! Hey, I should be the one doing the comedy!â
âYeah, you should.â
âNo one said this stuff is easy,â she said, suddenly serious. âCould Sam Chapman do stand-up? He tells jokes in class, but he does it just to get out of trouble, not to entertain. Heâd freeze onstage. No one would laugh. Weâll get you drunk!â
âIâll need more than liquor!â
âIâll see what I can do, but right now try it one time for me.â
I looked at my notebook and then at my watch. âRancid! Itâs six fifteen. Sarge will kill me. I told her Iâd be home to set the table.â
âBut I need to practice!â
âJazz, Iâll be grounded.â
âThereâs your excuse. You can tell Janson you canât perform âcause youâre grounded!â
I looked at my best friend. And slowly a wicked grin overcame me.
Â
The next night I fiddled with my straw as I sat alone at my usual table, hidden by the dim lights and thick smoke that hung over the audience at Chaplinâs.
But as I watched the opener dying, I thought: I can do that. I can stand onstage and not be funny! But standing up in front of Gavin and the whole school and not being funny was another thing. I looked at my watch. 9:45. 10:05. 10:30.
Dad was in Houston on business, so I told Sarge Iâd get a ride with Ben, knowing he would be one of the last to leave.
âMan, Iâm sorry, itâs so late,â Ben said, cutting off the club lights. âI hope Sergeant doesnât have a fit!â
âI hope she does,â I said with a wink.
Â
But my plan had a fatal flaw. Sargeâs punishment wasnât grounding me from Talent Night after allâherpunishment was chaperoning me to Jansonâs Rehearsal Night!
I insisted Sarge sit quietly in the back of the auditorium. I ignored her and sat as far away from her as I could, slunk down in the front row next to Jazzy.
Mr. Janson talked to the accompanist who sat at his piano stage left while seventeen drama students giggled, gossiped, and chatted on cell phones, breaking up the nervous tension.
âSettle down,â Janson finally commanded, taking center stage. âSince we only have one rehearsal, and this is the first time Roger is here to learn the musical accompaniment, weâll run all musical numbers in order first.â
âAwh man!â one student whined. âIâm not even warmed up!â
âThis sucks,â I complained to Jazzy. âWeâll have to wait hours before we get our turn over with!â
I was right. If Rehearsal Night was any indication of Talent Night, audience members would be fleeing toward the exitsâit was a disorganized, off-key mess. Ten students were performing musical numbers, and more than half of them had to run through their songs at least three times.
âWhen will you be going on?â Sarge abruptly interrogated me, nudging my arm while Harold Quimbywarbled through âMusic of the