Free The Sisters Club by Megan McDonald

all wobbly. I had not walked in high heels since I was four. My eyes kept sticking together from all the makeup, and my dress crackled as loud as a potato-chip bag when I walked onstage.
    Return of the Human Piñata.
    In my head, I could hear Alex saying, “Try not to blink so much,” and Dad saying, “Remember to say your t’ s at the ends of words” and “Walk like you have a book on your head,” and Mom saying, “You’ll be fine,” and Joey saying, “Go kiss a Paper Towel,” but I really wasn’t hearing any of them.
    Then the curtain went up. The room got spooky-quiet. It was so dark, I couldn’t see any faces out there.
    I pretended it was King Lear.
    At home.
    In my own living room.
    I took three deep breaths (Dad would be proud) and walked right out onto that stage.
    A single stage light shone on Beast like a moonbeam. He was lying down in the garden. I was supposed to come up to him from behind the volcano and think he was dead.
    The light was so spooky and everything was so quiet, I almost believed it myself.
    I stepped into the story.
    “Where, oh, where, is Beast? Why hasn’t he come?” I said, looking around. Then when I saw him there, like he was really dead, I threw myself down, landing on my knees, and bent over him.
    He smelled funny, like Tic Tacs and old attics.
    I almost lost it. I could hardly keep from cracking up. I bent down to pretend I was listening to his heartbeat.
    “My dear Beet! Your heart still beasts!” I said. Oh, no! I was getting all tongue-twisty. Why did we have to say “Tongue Twisters” right before I came onstage?
    I said the line again. I think I sprayed him with spit that time.
    Scott Towel, from inside his hairy costume, whispered, “Water,” without moving his lips, and I remembered this was the part where Beauty was supposed to go and get water from the canal.
    When I came back, I threw the water in his face.
    That part was fun! Way better than spit.
    “Beauty! Is it indeed you? You forgot your promise! The grief I felt at losing you made me wish to die of hunger. Now I must die, but not without the pleasure of seeing you once more.”
    He sat up. I kept trying really hard not to think of paper towels.
    “Dear Beast, you shall not die,” I said. “You shall live and become my husband. Here and now I offer you my hand and swear that I shall marry none but you.”
    The stage went pitch-black. Scott threw off his Beast head. He unzipped his hairy costume to reveal the Prince costume underneath. Lights blinked and flashed all around us. Music blared. A trumpet sounded.
    I gasped. “I see before me a prince, more beautiful than Love itself. But where is my Beast? What has become of him?”
    Scott Towel explained about the wicked fairy and how she had put a spell on him, turning him into a Beast until someone agreed to love and marry him.
    All of a sudden, while Scott was giving his speech, I remembered.
    Help! It was coming.
    The moment Alex had waited for.
    The kiss!
    I had forgotten all about it. I’d been so busy thinking of Alex and the one thing I could do to make her want to be my sister again.
    I couldn’t look at Scott Towel. I stared at the floor.
    I couldn’t think. I didn’t know what to do. Alex would kill me if I kissed him. But she’d also kill me if I didn’t.
    Just pretend he’s a roll of paper towels, I told myself. Paper towels, paper towels . . .
    And before I knew it, Beast kissed me — my cheek, anyway. I turned my head to the side in the nick of time.
    The audience went wild. I guess it was OK. Alex wasn’t going to kill me after all.
    Once I got through the kiss, the rest of the play was a blur. I was standing here, standing there, stage left, stage right, saying this, saying that. It was like I was floating. All the words came out, and I didn’t throw up once. For ten minutes, I felt like a princess. And here was Beast, telling me I was to become his queen.
    You know the rest — the Happily Ever After part and all that.
    The