Becoming Anne Again

Chapter Fifty-Two

A/N Hello loves! Here's a longer chapter, as promised. I can't wait to hear what you guys have to say! This chapter is kind of busy, and honestly was really hard to write. But, now this book is going to be kicked in to high gear. You guys know 273 pages have already been written? That's crazy for me! Anyway, love you all! Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to comment what you think. You guys know your comments make my day :)

Thursday night was opening night. Anne's indifference had shifted to something a bit more intense, and it felt as though her stomach was burning from fear. Her tiff with Josie had easily taken a back seat, and Thursday morning, Josie might as well have not existed.

"I don't think I can do this. Can I drop out?" Anne said, beginning to pace in the kitchen. Matthew looked on sympathetically, and really, he wanted to pull her out, because he thought he might very well die of heart failure if he were in her shoes.

Samantha wasn't so easily swayed. Gently, she put some toast in Anne's hands, who thankfully, began munching absent mindedly. Lately, Samantha had been measuring Anne's food intake like it was a science, and maybe it was. Anne's bad days generally were accompanied by starvation, sometimes on purpose, sometimes because food was the last thing on her mind. Either way, it worried Samantha to no end, and she was grateful that today was not going to be one of those days. "Listen, sweetie, I know how hard you've worked on this. And I know you're really good."

"I got the part because Ms. Keller felt bad for me. The whole foster thing," she said, waving away Samantha's suggestion.

"That's not true! I've been hearing you practice. You got the part because you deserve it. Besides, this made you so happy."

So happy was perhaps a stretch, because it sounded so permanent. Or maybe it was just a buzzword for Anne, who was more intimately related with the waves of her life than anyone else could ever be. "Well, right now it makes me—want to puke." There was that brief moment of hesitation, and Samantha stiffened just thinking about what Anne wanted to say.

Anne thought about being front and center, the lights stripping her bare. She thought about what would happen if she messed up, thought about what it would be like to forget all of her lines. She wanted to translate that pain into sustenance for Quinto'aa, the faerie goddess inside of her. But Dr. Wilson said these veiled imaginings were destructive, so she thought I want to cut myself.

Sustenance for Quinto'aa was infinitely more poetic.

"Being nervous is normal! But you're going to love all of it," Samantha said, squeezing Anne's shoulder gently.

"Listen," Matthew said in earnest, "if you really don't want to—you don't have to."

Anne nodded her head, as if she wasn't completely listening to him. "Okay."

"Are you ready for school?" Samantha asked, while holding out Anne's lunch bag. Anne took it with a tight smile and nodded her head again. "Okay. Well, I'm sure you'll feel better after your last rehearsal."

She didn't say anything, because really she wanted to be spared the pep talk. All she wanted was to wallow in her own misery. (But then she didn't, and before Anne was crawling her way out again). But she thought back on the past few rehearsals, how everyone was messing up, and how she felt like a foreigner on stage, and she really doubted that she was going to feel better.

Anne felt like whatever was pulsing inside of her head was going to burst open, like that alien from that horror movie that all of the boys seemed to think would be hilarious to reenact at lunch time. The dress was constricting, the wig felt too tight, and the makeup just felt cakey. Technically, they had been doing full dress rehearsals for the last few days, but somehow, she didn't feel any more acclimated. But still, this was it.