We have been rehearsing our one act all week, waiting for our turn to get Mrs. Permala's approval, and now on the last day of the school week, it's our turn.

Before approvals week started, Mrs. Permala told us about how she learned to go through this whole process the hard way. Apparently, she used to be less strict about which plays would be performed for the day time shows, and a group wrote their own play with tons of sex jokes in it that she didn't get during rehearsals. Then, when the group performed for the classes, the kids lost their minds and some of the younger teachers alerted the principals and Mrs. Permala why. After that, all of Mrs. Permala's rules changed.

You must use an already approved script included in the theater library, which is either already purchased or copyright free.

You must perform the one act in its entirety for Mrs. Permala the week of approvals, before any sets or costumes are made and stored in the back room, called the green room, where all of us will get ready on the days of our performances.

If your one act is not approved, you must scramble to get a second one act approved. Usually, the group will be so frustrated at this point, Patti tells us, that Mrs. Permala will actually just pick a new one act for them. "We don't want this to happen," Patti reminds us again and again throughout the week.

And as if this weren't enough stress for one week, Snowball is tomorrow. Mom took me to get a dress on Wednesday, and it was just another experience that made me happy I'm not talking to Gina anymore. Most girls shop for their school dance dresses at regular dress shops or the mall. Not in the Myers family. We went to Goodwill. "They always have dresses there," Mom explained in the parking lot, as I hid my face from anyone who might be driving down the road and laughing at me.

The thing is, kids at Riverside, rich or not, all act like they have money. This was especially important for Gina. A few weeks ago when she and I were still close, she had already purchased her dress from David's Bridal. She sent me tons of pictures of it from all different angles. It's black with sequins and a huge slit up the side. The top of it has a cut out for her cleavage to show through. She even scheduled appointments to get her hair dyed, cut, and styled before Snowball. All of that was done before she even had a date. As I think about it now, I am tempted to just cross the room and ask her how that whole date situation ended up going, but I know that wouldn't be good for me. At this point, thinking about talking to Gina or hanging out with Gina just feels like muscle memory. It still happens, because I'm used to it, but that doesn't mean I should. At least I can tell from afar that she's already had the cut and color hair appointment. Her hair is slightly shorter, cleaner, and now it is a rich shade of burgundy. It's slightly more natural looking, but still fake enough to know it's dyed.

By the end of the trip to Goodwill, I left with an older satin dress that goes up to my knees. It's bright yellow and doesn't have any sleeves. We got a sheer white shawl to go with it, since it'll be cold tomorrow. Mom says she'll do my hair. That's how we do things on our end of town.

Thinking about all of this—how the run through will go, how I will look for Snowball, how Moth's plan to create opportunities for me and Thatcher, all of it—and my entire body tightens into a bundle of nerves, just as Mrs. Permala calls us to the stage. It's time to see if we will be approved or if we will be screwed.

Mrs. Permala is up in her booth. The small theater is dark except for the stage and the lights in her booth, shining up from her control buttons and making her look like she's about to tell us a scary story around the campfire.

I remain off stage with Moth and Thatcher as Patti struts into the spotlight to introduce our group. "We are the Misfit Theater Company, and we have prepared the one act play entitled Separation Anxiety. Please enjoy."

The lights go off on the stage, just—as I've been told—they will on the days of our performances for the school. Thatcher gets into position on stage for the opening scene as Peter, the butler. As soon as the lights come up again on stage, he starts miming the process of cleaning up a table or a countertop, something at hip level for him. Patti takes a deep breath and as she exhales, her entire body changes. She assumes an upright posture and saunters back onstage as Violet, the rich wife of Moth's character.

"Oh hello, Mrs. Stein," Thatcher begins, and then my mind starts blanking from the nerves. It's like all of my nervous energy has been converted into electroshock pulses, wiping my mind of everything I've been working so hard to memorize. The words become jumbled in my skull, and my heart picks up its beat when I try without any luck to remember my first line.

"Do you have a script on you?" I whisper to Moth.

He checks his pockets, despite the fact the script would be poking out of his pockets if he actually had it on him. "No, sorry, dud—girl. Why?"

I feel like I could hyperventilate. My entire group's success is hinging on this performance, and I can't remember my stupid lines.

"I don't remember to say. I can't think of my lines right now."

Moth checks the scene quickly, then whispers, "You come onstage first without any lines after Patti starts saying, 'Listen Harry,' ok? After that, you come in right when I'm about to tell Violet about Rita. I'll say, 'Oh my god, Rita, I thought I told you to leave.' Then you say the best opening line in all of this class's history."

It suddenly appears to me. "I can't leave without my panties," I whisper. As I say that, another group is walking past the backstage area from where they've been practicing their own approved one act to the audience area. A few of them overhear me say the line and shoot me a confused look. Moth and I do our best to muffle our laughter.

"It's a line, it's a line," Moth tells them, but they keep walking.

"Please alert me when he is awake," we hear Patti say from stage. "I will be freshening up in my room." Then she exits toward us.

Thatcher has one more line, as Patti decompresses off stage with a few shakes of her hands, and then Moth enters as presentable but subtly hungover Harry.

"Layla's out there with her whole group," Patti whispers. "They're watching in the audience."

I know what that means: Not only are they eyeing up their competition, but they are also confident enough to take time away from practicing to watch our one act. I didn't watch theirs, though Patti had us rehearsing in the green room underneath the sloped audience so that she could poke her head out when she wasn't in the scene. She didn't say anything about theirs, which I can only assume means it was good and it worried her. But now, Layla, Taylor, Greg, and yes, even Gina are taking the time to watch the entirety of our approval rehearsal.

My mind goes blank again. No, I think, I know what to say: I can't leave without my panties. I just keep thinking about the one group walking past as I said the line, and it helps keep it in my head.

Thatcher exits toward us, and Moth acts out trying to stuff my invisible panties into his pants. Thatcher has just enough time to smile a goofy, cross-eyed, exasperated grin at me before he and Patti go back on stage for the rest of their scene, leaving me alone in the wing off stage.

After a couple of lines between Moth and Patti, Thatcher exits again, and as soon as the lights no longer reach him, he outstretches his arms and lets them and his head fall on my shoulders, like a weird, draped hug. He huffs, then whispers in a low, serious tone, "I wish we had more scenes together."

I should be paying more attention, because I know that once Thatcher and I are off stage together, I need to sneak onstage soon after. But it feels so good to be cocooned in Thatcher's arms from all the fears that being onstage in front of people brings. I don't want to leave.

"You're welcome. Listen Harry, I've been thinking a lot--," I hear Patti saying, and my adrenaline kicks in.

"I have to sneak out there," I tell Thatcher and I slip out of his arms and tiptoe onstage.

Moth widens his eyes at me and acts out shooing me away around Patti's back. Some people in the audience sound like they genuinely laugh at my quick entrance and exit, but I can't see any of them past the bright stage lights before I'm off stage again.

Thatcher gives me a thumb's up, and I try to mimic the silly cross-eyed look he gave me when he exited earlier. I won't have to go back on stage until Moth starts talking to Patti about their fictional marriage, around the time Patti gets to sneak in a forehead kiss. Thatcher and I have a little while alone together in the wings.

I decide to pick up where we left off before I made my first appearance on stage. "I wish we had more scenes together too," I whisper. "We were funny together in our ten-minute play."

"Next time," Thatcher whispers with a smirk. "So, uh... you excited for Snowball tomorrow?"

I shrug. "I've never been, so I don't know what to expect."

"Right, me too."

"But I'm glad we're going as a group of us. I'm excited for that part."

He nods. Then, without taking his eyes off of Patti and Moth's scene on stage he whispers, "Well, save a dance for... well, you know, like, for all of us. So, you don't have to dance with Moth all night, you know? You let me know if you're getting sick of his happiness and I'll come right over and mellow it out."

He smiles at himself, but still doesn't make eye contact with me. My heart swells, and I chuckle at bit at him. Thatcher Gorsky wants to dance with me tomorrow. Maybe I won't need Moth's help after all. Maybe I can make it work out with Thatcher all on my own.

I turn back toward the stage and see Patti kiss Moth's forehead. Her cheeks immediately blush, and then she exits. Moth starts his lines that lead to my entrance.

"Gotta go," I tell Thatcher.

I take a deep breath and remind myself of my first line: I can't leave without my panties.

"Have fun," Thatcher whispers as I step into the light on stage.

Have fun: Such a simple reminder and, yet, something I've forgotten to do all class so far. I try my best to act like Rita would, and sort of do a model walk toward Moth.

"Oh my god, Rita, I thought I told you to leave," he says. I can be good at this, I think. I'll just have fun with it.

I put my hand on my hip and flick my wrist. "I can't leave without my panties," I say. The audience laughs, and for once, I'm sure it's at my line, not at me. I nailed that line. I hold back a smile to stay in character.

Moth approaches me and reaches into his back pocket for my invisible underwear. "Right, here is your thong," he says, handing it to me. "Now get out."

I mime putting them on, then return my hand to my hip. I make sure to pop my hip like Gina would when she was about to gossip about some teeny tiny injustice she had to endure.

"Excuse me?" I ask as Rita.

"Leave, hurry!"

I channel Gina as I continue with the scene. I only hope it isn't too obvious. I don't need any more drama with her. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'm not leaving like some sort of tramp."

I hear rumblings from the audience, but continue with my line.

"No way. You made your bed now lie in it. I'm not leaving. I smell bacon. I bet Jeeves is cooking up something delicious in there. I think I'll stick around for that."

Moth shakes his hands at me. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no."

Thatcher enters, carrying an invisible tray of food and drinks.

"Hello there, Peter," Moth says. I can't believe how normal Moth's voice sounds when he's acting. "This is my... this is one of my co-workers. She must have slept here last night. How crazy, right? Such a huge house, I didn't even notice."

"Whatever you say sir," Thatcher says. He seems so serious. "Here is your bacon and eggs. And bacon and eggs for you as well, Ms...?"

I want to smile at Thatcher to let him know what a great job he's doing so far, but I can't let him down and break character. "Berger," I answer. "Rita Berger."

We shake hands, and the electric energy my body was filled with earlier returns when we touch. I let the side of my lips that don't face the audience turn up in a half-smile, and he does the same. But then I realize we've been shaking hands for a little too long, so I quickly drop the handshake as Moth continues with the scene.

All goes according to our rehearsed plans until Patti re-enters the scene and finds my character in the kitchen.

"Who is this?" she asks.

"I'm Rita. From Harry's work? Really, he has never mentioned me?"

She looks genuinely confused. She's really good. "I'm sorry—why are you here right now? And dressed like that?"

"Oh, I slept over."

Some more rumblings sound from the audience.

"I swear, nothing happened," Moth protests.

"I wouldn't say nothing," I say.

Moth starts his line, "She just kissed me--," when he is interrupted by Mrs. Permala over her announcer's speakers.

"I'm sorry, thespians, I'm going to have to stop you there," she says.

Continue in the next part...