When Poppy Malone (DareDevil and aspiring celebrity) is kicked out of dama club, she isn't about to let that get between her and a stage. Even if the only stage left is in an abandoned old theater.
Minutes passed and no one tried to kill me, or shove a camera in my face. Maybe this wasn't a reality show after all. My heart got tired of panicking and slowly returned to its normal thump-thump. If Mom had grounded me for the bridge stunt instead of taking away my phone, then I'd be home right now. Or, at least I could call for help.
"In case you're wondering," I said, at last, "I'm still here."
Shuffling. A soft bang from something being knocked to the floor. More cursing.
"We're trying—to work—the light switch."
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It didn't surprise me the switch would be complicated, goodness knows the doors were tricky enough. Besides, Andy's friends weren't that bright.
At last, a weak bulb flickered into life above the middle of the stage followed by a chorus of cheers. A few dusty old props lay around and a faded backdrop hung against the back wall, but there weren't any people.
"Did you see that? Did you see that?" a boy's voice said from somewhere backstage. "We are awesome at this stuff. We flicked that switch like—"
The big voice hushed him and cleared its throat. "Miss Malone. As you can see, there is nothing here to harm you, nor any television cameras."
"The whole point is that the cameras are hidden," I said, although, my confidence in that explanation had slipped. A prank show would have revealed themselves by now. There wouldn't be much point in continuing once I figured things out.
That left two options: a) Andy's friends, or b) we were back to ax-murderers. I glanced over at the door. There weren't any handles, just a handrail like the one that ran the length of the room.
"We have nothing to do with television, although we are actors. We rehearse our play here every day at this time," said the older voice with pride. "We are the Riverton Player's Troupe."
If there had been an organization like that in town, I'd have known about it and stalked it until they let me join. Then again, I hadn't noticed our Chemistry teacher change from a Ms. to a Mr. mid-year, until Marissa pointed it out.
"Come out so I can see you," I said, trying not to sound too excited. You didn't need good grades for community theater.
There were more hushed whispers and a muffled cry. A boy flew out from behind the side curtains as if he'd been thrown. He looked back the way he came, made a rude gesture, then turned to me. Riverton was small enough that most of its faces were familiar, but I hadn't seen this one before—certainly not hanging around with my brother. He was more my age.
He waved at me. Not just a little wave, either. He bounced up and down with his arms swinging over his head like he was signaling a passing ship. Lifting the side of my mouth in a confused smile, I waved in return.
