Free Stage Fright (Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys Book 6) by Carolyn Keene, Franklin W. Dixon

laugh.
    Claire turned on him. “This is not just superstition. My friend Tia was in a show where the technical director talked about that play right before opening night, and one of the drops caught fire in the second act!”
    Nancy held up her hands as if she was dealing with a wild animal. Slowly, she stepped toward Claire. “There has to be something we can do.”
    Claire nodded. “You have to go outside and run around the theater three times. Counterclockwise. And then spit.”
    “Okay,” said Nancy.
    Claire made a little motion with her hand, shooing Nancy off.
    “Right now?” asked Nancy.
    With a nod from Claire, Nancy sighed and headed outside.
    “That was awesome,” said George, laughing. “Does everyone in the theater call it the Scottish play?”
    “Oh, yes,” said Claire, who was calmer now. “We’revery serious about all of this. The theater is an ancient tradition, you know. And as artists, we’ve always been a little closer to ghosts and gods and things not of this world.”
    Claire waxed poetic about the theater and George lost interest quickly. She rolled her eyes and winked at me. George thought superstitions were interesting. But pretentions? Not so much.
    Heavy footsteps announced Nancy’s return. Claire ran across the room and stopped her in the doorway.
    “You ran all the way around three times?”
    “Yes, Claire.”
    “Counterclockwise?”
    “Yes, Claire.”
    “And you remembered to spit?”
    “Yes!”
    “Okay, then you can come back in.”
    Claire stepped out of the way and let Nancy in. As she did, her cell phone began to ring. I couldn’t help but notice that her ring tone was the theme music from her TV show—which was also the single off her first album.
    “Oh no,” said Claire, looking at the screen. “It’s her ! Ugh. Let me get rid of her—this will just take a minute.”
    She closed her eyes for a second, and all traces of irritation vanished. When she answered the phone, her voice was bright and perky. This was the weirdest part of working with actors—how well they lied.
    “Hi!” said Claire with excitement. “I was just thinking about calling you. The flowers? Oh good, I’m glad you liked them.”
    She turned toward us, pulled the phone away from her mouth, and pretended to hang herself. But the whole time, her voice was chipper and friendly.
    “Great! Great. Your role? Well, you’d have to talk to Linden about that. Speaking of, I have to get back to rehearsal. No. No. No, you’re the best! Love ya like a sister.”
    She clicked the phone closed, though even from across the room I could tell the other person on the line was still talking.
    “Who was that?” I asked. Whoever it was, Claire clearly didn’t like them. And it seemed like they had no idea. Claire insisted she didn’t have any enemies, but I wondered if she was just too self-centered to notice.
    “Madonna,” Claire said. “Not the famous one. Apparently she’s like conscious again? And she wants her part back. Can you believe that? She was never very good, and now she has two broken legs. Although, come to think of it, that could only improve her dancing.”
    “I guess you’re not the president of her fan club, eh?” said Nancy.
    “Funny you should say that,” Claire replied, throwing her arm around Nancy’s shoulder. Now that Madonnawas back in the picture, Nancy’s Macbeth slipup seemed to be forgotten.
    “Madonna actually used to be the president of my fan club, until she got the role as my understudy. I wish they’d never cast her. It’s like they hired me a second shadow!”
    She threw her hands in the air in frustration.
    “If she’s awake, we should go talk to her,” Joe said to me. “You girls will be safe here?”
    “With this one around, we’ve got nothing to worry about,” said Claire, punching Nancy in the arm. “You should have seen her stage combat! Besides, we have to get back to rehearsing anyway.”
    “You guys go,” said Nancy. “But we should meet