At the start of Friday evening’s rehearsal, Connie Dixon announced, “I need the actors playing the roles of Theseus, Hippolyta, Philostrate, and Demetrius on stage now.”
A few students grabbed their scripts and half-emptied water bottles, got out of their seats, and sauntered towards the stage.
“Where’s Philip Stevenson?” Connie asked, perturbed, her voice rising. “I need Demetrius on stage for this scene.”
All heads turned as people scoured the room. Jace sat alone in the front row, a baseball cap pulled tightly over his eyes. He twisted his script nervously in his clammy hands.
Connie stood in the center of the stage, hands on hips, “Philip Stevenson! Are you present?”
No reply. Everybody was fanning themselves with their scripts. A few people sighed, exasperated, or bored.
Two lar
