She stuck her head out of the cleft between the curtains briefly and pulled back in shock. "Catherine," she exclaimed, "it’s packed!"

Catherine, in her long flowing dress and looking even more angelic and perfect than usual, rolled her eyes. "It’s supposed to be, Lil. What else could anyone do on a Friday night?"

"They’ll all be looking at me," Lily murmured.

"You’ll do fine."

"What if I forget my lines? What if I can’t sing? Can I really sing? You’re not all just messing with me, are you?" Hands intensely pulling at a stray strand of fabric on her blue pinafore, she shuffled her ruby-red-slippered feet and widened her impossibly large blue eyes even wider.

Catherine grasped the foot-smaller girl in exasperation. "You’ll. Do. Fine. It’s time. Go."

And so Lily went.

Clara threw herself exhaustedly into a seat in the front row. "I am not settling for anything less than front-row seats for my best friend’s stage debut."

"What about Catherine?" Alex asked, settling in next to Andrew, who’d taken the seat next to Clara. Oliver sat on Clara’s other side next to Scott.

"I still can’t believe she’s the good witch," Scott murmured. Sent him a scathing look.

"Everyone brought flowers, right? You know what’s going to happen if you didn’t bring flowers." Clara glared at her friends, who held up two roses each in appeasement.

"Good." The lights dimmed and Clara turned to Andrew. "We’d’ve been here in time to wish her luck if you hadn’t insisted on that slushie."

"Watch the play, Clara," he said, sounding appropriately chagrined. She rested her head lightly on his shoulder as Lily stepped out onto the stage. At fifteen and a sophomore, Lily was one of the youngest stars of the school musical ever. She was, however, an inarguably perfect Dorothy, with huge blue eyes and long blonde hair tied into pigtails. As small as she was-five foot nothing and almost eerily thin-she looked somehow powerful as the spotlight turned to her, and she was definitely captivating and commanding as she began to sing.

"Wow," Clara heard Oliver murmur, and she glanced over to see his jaw open wide and gaping. She leaned over.

"Hey, hon, close your jaw." She topped his chin up. Clara loved Oliver dearly, but the crush he’d had on Lily since Clara could remember-and Clara could remember kindergarten-was sometimes embarrassingly obvious, especially since Lily had always reciprocated the crush with an equal, if shy, fervor.

However, on the stage Lily appeared anything but shy. Clara’s best friend who always strayed from the spotlight and lacked much self-confidence seemed at home on the stage, and even risked a quick grin to her friends in the front row, winking quickly at Oliver before exiting the stage.

"Wow," Oliver said more quietly, and a grin had taken the place of the shock that dwelled there a moment ago.

Throughout the play, Lily continued to amaze with her apparent acting, singing, and dancing talent, as Clara mystified as Glinda the Good Witch, even more beautiful and stoic than usual.

As the play ended and the actors bowed, Clara handed each of the boys two flowers from the dozen she’s bought earlier. When Catherine curtsied, she was greeted with a round of five roses at her feet, scooping down with inherent grace to gather then and blowing them-especially Alex-a glamorous kiss. As Lily bounced onto the stage, she bowed deeply, and the crowd clapped and cheered with increasing zeal. Clara and her friends threw flowers at her feet, too, and she picked then up gingerly, mouthing "thank you" to her friends in the front row. Oliver stood and the rest of the audience followed, and Lily’s blue eyes glinted in the lights with what looked like tears.

The actors jumped off of the stage and walked out through the audience. Catherine clasped Alex’s hand quickly before moving down the aisle, and Lily received a peck on the cheek from him as she hurried by. Clara urged her friends up, and they ran down the aisle past the actors before the rest of the audience had even stood.

In the lobby, the actors stood in character ready to greet the audience. Clara ran to Lily and easily swept her up into a hug. "You were amazing," she murmured, and handed Lily one of the remaining white roses.

"Thanks," Lily whispered. Clara disentangled herself and looked over to where Alex stood with Catherine, teasing her and grinning, kissing her quickly before the rest of the audience fully trickled in.

"Good job, Reider," Andrew said, and hugged her quickly.

Scott handed her a flower and kissed her forehead. "That was great. Such talent from my little Lilster!"

Oliver looked slightly uncomfortable, one part awe and one part reality. Clara dragged Andrew and Scott over to Catherine to allow them some peace.

"Wow," Oliver said quietly, whispering directly into her ear. The lobby had begun to fill. He held up his rose, a deep crimson, and handed it to Lily. "That was the most awe-inducing thing I’ve ever seen."

Lily’s eyes filled again with tears. "Flattery," she scoffed, but hugged him tightly though her face barely reached his shoulder.

"Seriously, Lil. You were great."

"Oh, I know," she tossed offhandedly before grinning. "But thanks."

"Sure. You deserve it."

Her hands climbed up to his shoulders, and she pulled herself to eye level with him. She placed her lips on his quickly, and Oliver closed his eyes, hands coming to her back.

"Just, you know, for good luck."

Coming out of a slight stupor, Oliver laughed a little. "Lil, the play’s over."

"Are you complaining?" she asked debauchedly. "Besides, you didn’t get to wish me luck beforehand."

"Clara will have a whole story on that for you later," Oliver remarked. "He bought a slushie."

Lily laughed, adding, "Damn him!" in the middle of her giggles.

"I think you have to go meet your adoring fans now, Dorothy."

"Meet me when they leave?"

"Count on it."

Lily flounced away, pigtails flapping and bright eyes shining, and Oliver watched her, carrying ten roses, as she made her way through the crowd, continually effervescent and even singing with a little brown-haired girl after an impromptu request. When the audience has tapered out of the lobby and gone home to discuss the sophomore wonder who had so recently impressed every citizen of Blensbrith, New York, Oliver stood there, watching Lily waltz Scott around the lobby. They stopped their dance directly in front of Oliver.

"Ready?" he asked, offering Lily his arm.

"Why Oliver," Scott mocked, batting his eyelashes and taking his arm.

"Off, it’s my turn," Lily said, pushing Scott away. Feigning hurt, he sulked away to talk with Clara and Andrew as Lily took Oliver’s arm.

"Let’s go," she said.

They went, him in a nice sweater and khakis and her in a blue pinafore with petticoats and a crisp white shirt, into the crisp night, and Oliver gave Lily his jacket to ensure her warmth. They walked to her house, and somehow her hand found his, and though they couldn’t discern exactly moment it had been at which they crossed this particular rainbow, neither cared about the wake in favor of what they found on the other side.