“I’m just...” I muttered, looking down, “I don’t feel well. I’m sorry. I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
This was a lie. “It’s just last-minute jitters...” “No! I can’t do it! I’m telling you.”
Davenport looked furious. “Miranda, this is outrageous.” “I’m sorry!”
Davenport took a deep breath, like he was trying to restrain himself.
To be truthful, I thought he looked like he was going to explode. His forehead turned bright pink.
“Miranda, this is absolutely unacceptable! Now go take a few deep breaths and—”
“I’m not going on!” I said loudly, and the tears came to my eyes fairly easily.
“Fine!” he screamed, not looking at me. Then he turned to a kid named David, who was a set decorator.
“Go find Olivia in the lighting booth! Tell her she’s filling in for Miranda tonight!”
“What?” said David, who wasn’t too swift. “Go!” shouted Davenport in his face. “Now!”
The other kids had caught on to what was happening and gathered around.
“What’s going on?” said Justin. “Last-minute change of plans,” said Davenport. “Miranda doesn’t feel well.”
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