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"OKAY, EVERYONE, GATHER around," Miss Jenn instructed. "We have got a two hour window before the storm is expected to hit and I intend to use every minute of it. Big, splashy group numbers always succeed at the Menkie Awards. So we need to workshop a punchy, breathtaking number that will put us in the number one spot."
"As our head choreographer," Carlos walked forward so he was standing next to Miss Jenn. "I am so happy to announce that today we will, at last, begin rehearsing one of the most showstopping, iconic, and bar-raising numbers of the entire show."
"Be Out Guest," Gina announced. "Yeah, it's Be Our Guest guys." Based on the way Carlos was looking at Gina, it clearly had not originally been Be Our Guest.
"Before we begin," Miss Jenn ignored the tension between the two sophomores. "I'm going to tell you a little story about hospitality. Once when I was a little girl, my mom and I heard a clatter come from the kitchen. We thought it was a burger. So my mom ran over, hog-tied the man, and promptly called the police. As we waited for the cops to come, I watched my mother place a bowl of iced tea next to his face. Because, she said, until the police come and get him, he's still our guest."
"So. . . did he, like, get arrested or. . ." Kourtney wondered.
"Yeah," Clara furrowed her brows.
"No," Miss Jenn shook her head. "Turns out it wasn't a burglar at all, just a repairman who entered the wrong unit. But the point remains the same. Just like our intruder, we need to make Belle and our entire audience feel welcome. And with that, Carlos and Gina, take it away."
"Thank you, Miss Jenn," Gina grinned. "That wasn't terrifying at all."
Phoebe's phone vibrated in her pocket. Knowing that it was probably important (because her parents knew that she had rehearsal and all her friends, except her boyfriend, were in the same room as her), she took it out of her pocket. Her breath hitched when she saw the email from Duke. She got up, quickly excusing herself before walking into the hallway.
"Phoebe?" Miss Jenn followed her out. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
"I just got an email from Duke, Miss Jenn," Phoebe explained. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll be back in soon."
"Okay," Miss Jenn nodded. "Good luck."
"Thank you," Phoebe gave her a small smile. Miss Jenn walked back into the bomb shelter, leaving Phoebe alone. The brunette sucked in a deep breath before clicking the notification and unlocking her phone.
. . . formally offer you admission as a member of the Class of 2024 this fall. It took a second for what she had read to fully sink in. Her eyes widened and she immediately clicked out of the app to call EJ. It rung for a while before going to voicemail. She tried again and got the same result before walking back into the bomb shelter.
