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A few days later, the Guys and Dolls cast list was posted.

"I can't believe it!" squealed Jessica Klein, jumping up and down and allowing herself to be hugged by her gracious fans. "I just can't believe it! Me, Sarah! In my senior year!"

I stared blankly down the hall. I couldn't see her face-- if only my mother would let me get glasses-- but I could hear her piercing shrieks loud and clear. I felt as if I had a stone in my stomach. She just didn't have the voice. She didn't have the voice! But it was written plainly on the wall: Jessica Klein would be playing Sarah Brown. Sighing wearily, I slowly began to make my way towards the choir room. I figured I might as well find out if I'd even been given a menial role. As I trudged past hordes of rejected chorus girls (most of whom were sobbing and holding each other), I felt someone brush roughly past my shoulder. A quick glance told me it was Sean.

"Sean. Sean!" I called after him. He didn't see you, I reassured myself mentally, but my heart had already begun to throb painfully in my chest.

"Oh. Hey there, sweetie. Can't really talk. I'll... uh... yeah." He nodded uncomfortably, then made quick strides down the hall. He paused when he reached Jessica Klein, who screamed excitedly at the sight of him and then proceeded to place a fat kiss on his lips. Sean didn't seem to mind.

"Tough luck, eh?"

I turned my head to see the tear-streaked face of Amy May. She sighed unhappily, then put her hand on my shoulder to guide me towards the cast list.

"It's not that I expected anything, of course... I'm not even a senior... But still, you know, you start talking yourself into thinking you're actually quite good..." A stifled sob escaped her throat. She put her hand over her mouth as if to choke it. "Excuse me. Composure, Amy. Composure."

"You saw the list already? It was only posted ten minutes ago. I ran all the way up here as soon as I heard it'd been posted," I explained. "Funnily enough, I didn't even need to check it to know that... Well." I shrugged.

"I haven't seen it, but Ashley Glaub just ran through the junior hallway screaming, 'A person can develop a cold!' with a crowd of adoring admirers in her wake." Amy scowled bitterly. "She lacks tact, that one."

We paused in front of the choir room, where the cast list of doom was posted. Fortunately, Jessica Klein and her groupies had moved a few yards down the hall, much to our appreciation. My name wasn't even typed-- It was handwritten, as if I'd been completely forgotten and then added at the last minute. Next to it was the word "missionary." My eyes fell on Amy's name, next to which the name "Mimi" was typed. I laughed ruefully.

"At least you got a part," I said, smirking.

"Oh, don't I feel blessed," retorted Amy sharply. "I believe I have one line."

"There are no small parts, only small actors," I recited.

"Shut up before I hit you," snapped Amy good-naturedly. She paused, then added, "Where were you last night, by the way? I needed help with the Bio worksheet."

"Ah. I... uh... voice lesson," I managed to say.

"Aren't you lucky!" Amy stepped back and stared at me, smiling widely. "I thought your dad said you weren't allowed anymore! Where are you taking them?"

"Um... Here." I coughed suddenly. "I mean, in town."

"Any name I might know? A lot of people in our school go to Mrs. Tanner."

"I don't think you'd know him," I said quickly.

"A he? Ooh! Is he cute?" Her eyes sparkled curiously.

"I... I don't know. I mean, he's older." I could feel my cheeks reddening. How much longer would this go on before she noticed I was lying-- or at least not fully telling the truth?

"What a disappointment," giggled Amy. "What a perfect love story that'd be... Student, teacher, forbidden love... It sounds like a story YOU might write for the school literature magazine."

"Haha." I laughed weakly. "So, uh, how about that Jessica Klein?"

"Total beotch. Hey, it's Larry! Let's go say hello! Cry a bit, then maybe he'll comfort you about not getting the part! Wouldn't that be adorable?"

For once, I allowed myself to be dragged in the direction of my boyfriend. Anything that took Amy's mind away from my voice teacher-- the opera ghost-- was to be considered good, at least for now. I wasn't sure why I didn't just tell her the truth, except that maybe I thought she wouldn't believe me. No, it wasn't just that... It was that I didn't want anyone to know about my opera ghost. I already thought myself at least half-insane for listening to someone I did not know. Not only that, but something about meeting an opera ghost felt special and private... Something that was hopefully reserved only for me.
Rehearsal ensued the following day. Since I was cast as a missionary and Amy as a hotbox dancer, it quickly became clear that we would be separated almost every rehearsal. This immediately cast a gloomy shadow over the musical for me. I mean, it was bad enough that I didn't get the part I thought I at least deserved somewhat. It was also bad enough that I had to stare at Sean Winters and Jessica Klein drooling into each other's laps every day for the next six weeks. But to be separated from Amy on top of it all? It couldn't be borne.

Amy pretended to cry in a melodramatic fashion when I told her that I wouldn't be able to stand the musical without her. I grumbled and pushed her off as soon as she took to sobbing heavily on my shoulder. It was fine enough for her-- She was outgoing to the point of being occasionally obnoxious, and already three sophomore chorus girls were following her around as if she were Jesus. I couldn't help but be quiet around people I didn't know well. I always felt like strangers might be taken aback by my quirky jokes and ability to make uncannily realistic animal noises. Consequently, I was often described as "stand-offish," but it wasn't like I wanted to be that way. That's why I needed Amy to help me loosen up.

My luck had gone sour, though, and after being handed the rehearsal schedule, it was clear that the only time Amy and I would be seeing each other was during the last couple of weeks right before the show, when full run-throughs took place. To my grim satisfaction, Sean had not been granted the role of Sky, so he and Jessica would be duly separated. The boy who had been given Sky was a cute freshman who was dating a girl in my Biology class. I couldn't help but be slightly cheered by this. He would be enjoyable to watch, even if I never had the opportunity to stage-kiss him.

The rehearsal commenced with its usual first-rehearsal charm, with lots of administrative tasks being explained and pounded to death. Some of the missionaries were expected to provide their own costumes, and most of the boys had to find their own suits. We were also finally allowed to use the state-of-the-art dressing rooms in the basement underneath the theater, much to everyone's surprise and approval. Each person was going to be allowed their own compartment (for storing stage makeup or whatever else could fit in the small locked box) and mirror. We were all very eager to run downstairs and see these dressing rooms, as they'd been off-limits to students for years. However, Miss Lazerth was not finished, and the more harassed she became with our behavior, the longer it took for her to finish announcements.

"I trust you will all welcome back our costume designer, Ms. Evelyn Mias-- Miss Chang, will you PLEASE get off Mr. Guarini's lap and try to listen-- I also expect that you--"

But before she could finish her sentence, she was cut off by a murmuring cry of excitement from the students in the audience. I had been sneaking a few pages of Pride and Prejudice, and I didn't notice right away what everyone was looking at. As soon as I looked up, though, I realized that the cry was caused by an unusual occurrence-- A letter in a yellowed envelope had just fluttered from the rafters onto the stage, landing right at Miss Lazerth's feet. My heart stopped in my chest. Was it from-- No, don't be silly, I scolded myself. He has nothing to do with this. It's probably just an old prop from another show or something, though why it would be up in the rafters... I shook my head. There was no use in speculating, I decided.

Miss Lazerth was all business. She bent over, scooped up the letter, skimmed its contents, and quickly pocketed it.

"Settle down! Settle down, or I'll reconsider allowing your use of the dressing rooms!" she hollered. For such a small, frail-looking woman, she certainly had quite a pair of lungs.

We immediately fell silent. The rehearsal ended with a hearty group sing of the finale of the show.

"That was disgusting," Miss Lazerth commented with an amusing candor. "Thank God we have six weeks. Come up as I call your name and collect the keys to your dressing room compartment."

When she got to "Elizabeth Mayers," I scrambled onto the stage and happily accepted my key. Though I currently hated her for having not casted me properly, I decided a little performance of "overeager student" wouldn't hurt. I smiled broadly, my turquoise eyes nervously flicking upwards. To my surprise, she didn't even attempt to smile back. If anything, her look was all disapproval.

"I'll need to speak to you after I'm finished here," she said lowly.

"Of course," I whispered, my throat suddenly very dry.

"Good," she replied, her steely eyes glinting. She ignored me as she yelled out, "John Mayson!"

Amy and I scuttled down to the basement, clutching our keys in our sweaty palms. I was bursting to tell her what had just happened with Miss Lazerth, but something made me keep my mouth shut. Anyway, I didn't want to look like I was constantly getting in trouble. I had never been in any real trouble with a teacher before, but it seemed as if every time I crossed Miss Lazerth's path, I ended up in a detention chair.

With bated breath, I swung the door to the dressing room open, with Amy in tow. Instead of the red-carpeted, luxurious performer's paradise I had been expecting, it was a cold, spacious room that reminded me of the gym lockerroom, except that there were long lines of counters with individual mirrors hanging on the walls. In the counters were small drawer-like boxes with keyholes. They, too, added to the lockerroom air; they had small, bent openings to provide for ventilation, just as a regular high school locker would have. On the opposite side of the dressing room was a small venue that lead to a room that was identical to every girl's bathroom in the school. Well, so much for glamour, I thought.

"What's your number?" Amy asked, a similar look of disappointment on her face.

"46. I'm right after you, stupid," I told her.

We ran down the rows of mirrors until we found numbers 45 and 46. For the heck of it, we both decided to open our compartments.

"Oh, isn't that sweet! Do you have one as well?" Amy was holding a white folded piece of paper in her hand.

"Yeah, I've got one." I pulled it out and read it.

Dear Elizabeth,
Congratulations on making the musical! I look forward to working with you for the next few weeks. Your first singing rehearsal is on March 26th. See you then!

Affectionately,
Mr. Fitzwilliam

"He is VERY sweet," I said, smiling fondly.

"He signed yours 'affectionately?' I only got a 'yours truly,'" exclaimed Amy, snatching my letter out of my hand. "Are you two having an affair?"

"Amy, don't be--" I stopped cold.

At the bottom of my drawer was another letter, one I hadn't noticed before. It was in a yellowed envelope, just like the one that had fallen from the rafters during Miss Lazerth's speech. Before Amy noticed, I quickly snatched it out of the drawer and shoved it into my copy of Pride and Prejudice. To my relief, she was so annoyed that she'd only been dealt a "yours truly" that she didn't notice.

"I mean, honestly! I come to rehearsal on time more often than you do. You're NEVER on time. Why does he like you so much? Not that you know, you don't have good qualities," she added quickly, noticing the look on my face. "But I have every right to an 'affectionately' as you do!"

"'Course you do. I'm going to the bathroom. Be right back," I said, turning around and locking myself into a stall before she could reply.

I didn't bother to sit down; I was shaking too much, anyway. I tore the envelope open with trembling hands. Inside was a similarly yellowed piece of parchment. Across it were long lines of flowy writing

My dear ingenue,

I know that I promised to see you tonight, but it seems I have another engagement. Forgive me. Can we meet tomorrow, instead?

Your Most Humble and Obedient Servant,
O.G.

"Elizabeth? Are you okay in there?"

"Fine," I breathed, stuffing the letter back in the envelope. "I'm... fine."

As I opened the stall, Amy said, "Annie Chang just told me to tell you that Miss Lazerth was looking for you."

"Oh... yes," I mumbled absentmindedly. "Excuse me..."

"Are you all right?" Amy asked, looking alarmed.

"I'm fine. Fine." I pushed past her to the door. As soon as I'd made my escape, I practically sprinted upstairs to the stage.

Miss Lazerth's eyes narrowed when she saw me. "Ah. Elizabeth. Come here."

"Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"As you may have noticed, a letter fell from the rafters. I would normally not bother to share with you its contents, but you have been mentioned several times. Read it for yourself." She shoved the letter at me.

My dear Evelyn,

I congratulate you on the start of musical season. Undoubtedly you'll put on a show with all the sparkle and magnificence that is expected of you from the community, though it seems that you have banked on a few children with less than promising talent. I could grudge you Ashley Glaub, for her ability to be perfectly blonde, but I cannot agree with your casting of Jessica Klein in such a delicate soprano role as Sarah. As you well know, her acting is overwrought and her voice is comparable to a toad's. I admit I expected better of you, Evelyn.
Having recently taken Miss Elizabeth Mayers into my studio, I have noticed her unusual vocal talent as well as her potential for an improvement in her acting skill. I suggest you give her the proper recognition she deserves if you wish to be remembered as one of the finest directors my theater has ever known.
Of course, it is your decision, but I do rather like it when my theater puts on reasonably good productions. It is probably too late, and to take back any casting decisions at this point would cause uproar from the parents. Still, I strongly suggest that you give Miss Elizabeth more credit than you have been. You are no more blind to her talent than I, and denying her right to glory is an injustice for which I cannot stand.
I look forward to the upcoming rehearsals, and I ask that you remind the stagehand Mr. Hockman that my salary is due at the end of the month. I know it is a little premature, but I expect that Box Five will be reserved for me on the weekends of the musical, as it has always been in the past.

Your Humble and Obedient Servant,
O.G.

The letter fluttered from my hands to the floor.

"You are finished, I presume," Miss Lazerth remarked coldly. "Now, tell me, have you been seeing this boy?"

"I don't know what you are talking about, Miss Lazerth," I replied softly.

"Don't play games with me, Miss Mayers!" she snapped suddenly. "This is a serious matter! He has never spoken to one of my students before, and I intend to keep it that way. Are you actually taking lessons with him?"

"I do not know who 'he' is, so I guess not," I lied.

"'He' is a boy named Erik DuBois, and he went to school here several years ago. I know he still lurks around this theater, though he has not so boldly made his presence known for quite some time. I have called the police on various occasions to rid the school of him, but when the police arrived, all they found was an empty theater. Eventually, they refused to take my calls." She paused, staring up at the rafters as if expecting another letter to fall. Then, she turned back to me, her eyes flaming. "I warn you, Miss Mayers. He is a murderer, and from what I know of him, deranged. If you do happen across him, I suggest-- no, I insist-- you notify me immediately."

"Yes, Miss Lazerth," I murmured compliantly.

She bent over to pick up the letter, then sighed wearily. As she looked up at me, I noticed that the anger was gone from her eyes... It was replaced with something like pity.

"I hope you do the right thing for yourself, Elizabeth," she said quietly, then turned and left, leaving me alone on the stage.