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dance, I’m just not good.  Not terrible, just not great, you know? I have danced in choruses of musicals.  My saving grace may be is that this particular musical is a comedy – so if it’s comedic dancing, I can probably handle it.  I felt good about my readings.  I enjoyed reading the part of Fred the princess the most, and I might not have the dancing chops for Larkin.  And now… now, I am in limbo.  It’s the waiting period until the cast list comes up.  In most cases, the list is posted within 24 to 48 hours.  We are over 48 right now.
                  I’m heading back to my dorm room after my last class on Friday afternoon, fretting about casting and trying to remain calm.  Whatever happens, happens, right?  As I reach my floor, the text alert sounds on my phone.  It’s Davis.
    Where are you?
    I text back
    About to walk into my room.  Where are you?
    He replies             
    I think you need to come over to the theatre right now.  It’s a bit of an emergency.
                  I think about the cast list being posted, but that’s not an emergency.  Something must really be wrong.
    Me:  Are you OK?  What’s wrong?
    Davis: I am fine.  Just get over here.  It’s really urgent.  
    Me:  On my way
                  I open my door very quickly and throw my books onto my desk in a flurry of movement.  An emergency?  Is someone sick?  Did someone get hurt?  Who would be there now, on a Friday afternoon with no show in rehearsal?  Everyone should be heading out to Happy Hour.  PJ.  PJ is always there.  Something’s wrong with PJ.
                  It isn’t far to the theatre, only about two blocks.  As I enter through one of the stage doors, I realize I have no idea where Davis and the emergency might be.  Then I hear voices, lots of voices, loud ones.  There is a good deal of cheer and joy in them.  Doesn’t sound like an emergency to me.  I spy Davis, as he emerges from the center of the crowd.
                  “What is it?” I ask.  “Is it a fight or something?”
                  Davis isn’t smiling.  He actually looks sort of serious.  He approaches me and turns me around.  I am doing my squirrel chatter, firing a million questions at him, “Is everything all right?  You seem okay.  Is it PJ?  Where is he?”  He answers none of my questions and proceeds to blindfold me. 
    I resist slightly, until he whispers in my ear.  “Quiet, you are turning me on with all the questions.  Just let me blindfold you.  You won’t be sorry.”  This is getting a little weird.  There are a bunch of people in close proximity.  I notice it’s gotten quieter, with only the faintest of whispers.  I can’t make out what anyone is saying.  Davis turns me back around and with a hand on each shoulder, guides me toward the whispers.  When he stops me, I can feel people around me.  Their warmth, their breath.  I am feeling a little panicky and claustrophobic. 
    Annoyed, I bite out, “Davis, what was so damn urgent?”
    He laughs and then everyone else joins in.  I swear I hear PJ’s guffaw.   “Lizard, it was urgent that you see … THIS.”  He whips off the blindfold and as my vision comes into focus I see I am standing in front of the cast list.  I read down quickly to where Davis is pointing. 
    PRINCESS WINIFRED……………Elizabeth Connelly
    I swear I’ve only done it once before in my life, but I feel my eyes bug out and my hand go up to my opened mouth.  “I… I got it.  I got Fred.”  I am caught up in a sea of congratulatory kisses, hugs and well wishes.  Reality sets in.  “Oh my God, I got Fred!” I am going to have a lot of work to do.  Carrying a show.  Huge responsibility.
    I am a bit confused about the emergency part.  I have to ask. “Mavis, I understand the urgent part, but why was this an emergency?”
    The crowd laughs. 
    PJ steps up and wraps his arm