Ignoring the rhythmic thump of a foot against the back of her chair, Esti scribbled a couple of notes. She wasn’t about to turn around and look, even though Danielle’s friend Steve seemed to have a new focus in life: making Esti Legard miserable. In the three weeks since classes started, he was doing a pretty good job.

“It’s easy to think of a hurricane as a kind of monster,” Mr. Larsen said. “A tropical storm requires food in the form of warm, moist air, and optimal wind. If it finds enough of this food, it will build energy and grow as it moves across the ocean. Trade winds form these optimal conditions, occasionally turning the tempest into a giant monster within a couple of days, or sometimes even a few hours.”

A monster tempest? Cariba Island seemed to be a haven for strange Shakespearean creatures. With a sigh, Esti studied the blackboard. She wished Mr. Niles had chosen The Tempest instead of Romeo and Juliet. No matter how she tried, she just couldn’t immerse herself in Lady Capulet. She’d been counting on some kind of magical Manchicay motivation to bring her passion back. If not Juliet, then—perhaps—a voice named Alan. But he hadn’t returned since the night of her audition. A mythical creature indeed.

When class was over, she headed to the parking lot to wait for Carmen. They were walking downtown together for some magic chocolate chip cookie ingredients that would absolutely, Carmen insisted, help Aurora feel better about life.

“Jane Doe,” Carmen called out. “Don’t you have any jeans without holes in the knees?”

“More ventilation this way. It’s hot here in the tropics.” Reaching up, Esti twisted her hair into a knot, jamming a pencil through it to keep it in place on top of her head. “I’m even ready to cut my hair, but Aurora would kill me.”

“Wear shorts like the rest of us,” Carmen said. “You need a tan. How were your classes?”

Esti rolled her eyes. “I’ll never be a science major. I like history, but psychology is a waste of time. Did you ace your math quiz?”

“Failing algebra,” Carmen said with a sigh. “No question about it.”

As they walked down the steep road from Manchicay School to Manchicay Bay, Carmen happily complained about math and language arts. They had just reached the grocery store when she paused and pointed down a nearby street.

“Danielle’s mom,” she whispered, “over at that restaurant balcony beside Mr. Niles. That’s Danielle’s younger sister with them.”

Esti knew what Gabrielle Simpson-Graaf looked like from the movies, but this was the first time she had seen Danielle’s mother on Cariba. The glamorous actress laughed and chatted with Mr. Niles. Beside them, a morose girl hid behind a curtain of black hair, sipping a soda and scowling at an incoming ferry.

“I can’t imagine having Danielle for a sister,” Carmen said. “That has to be why Marielle got tangled up with a boy like Rafe.”

“Rafe Solomon?” Esti straightened in surprise.

Carmen snickered. “You’ve already heard of him?”

“Kind of.” Esti shook her head, remembering Danielle’s scorn. “Tell me.”

“Just that he’s been embarrassing the Solomon family since he was old enough to talk back to the jandam. That’s why his mom sent him to school in L.A.” Carmen abruptly stopped, her mouth open. “Your dads probably knew each other. Don’t tell me you’re friends with him.”

“When I was little.” Esti shrugged uncomfortably. “I haven’t seen him since fourth grade.”

“Oh, that’s rich!” Carmen burst into laughter. “I love discovering these little things about Jane Doe. No wonder Danielle is so jealous of you.”

“Danielle likes Rafe?” Esti glanced back up at Danielle’s sister.

“All the girls like him. He’s gorgeous, and he knows all the right things to say. That’s the problem. My mama would kill me if she ever caught me alone with him, although I gotta admit I’ve thought about it.” Carmen grinned. “I mean, who hasn’t? He caused a big scandal last Christmas when Marielle’s dad came home and found him and Marielle . . . well, you know. I mean, she wasn’t even sixteen at the time. If he finds out you’re not dating anyone, I can guarantee he’ll be all over you as soon as he gets here.”

“Yikes.” Esti watched the dark-haired girl with a mixture of interest and disappointment. She’d been looking forward to seeing Rafe again, but now she wasn’t so sure. If he was just another cocksure guy, she didn’t want anything to do with him. But she couldn’t imagine shy, devoted Rafe turning into someone like Greg.

“I’ve never met Marielle,” Esti said. “I haven’t even talked to Danielle since the day of auditions. Apparently I’m invisible now.”

“Huh.” Carmen snorted. “It’s all a bunch of stupid theater politics. What do you bet Mr. Niles promised the Graafs that Danielle will outshine the star-studded competition, no matter what?”

“Whatever.” Esti studied the trio on the balcony, still thinking about Rafe. “Nurse does a much better job than Juliet. It won’t be Danielle who scoops up the agents this year; it will be you.”

“Ooh, pile it on.” Carmen’s dark eyes sparkled. “Don’t tell Aurora, but I’m giving you the biggest cookie this afternoon.”

“The thing is, I’ve seen them both do better. I guess Greg is taking his cues from Danielle.” Carmen shook her head. “She wasn’t so self-conscious last year. I honestly think you make her nervous.”

Esti sensed more than a grain of truth in Carmen’s words, but she knew Danielle had nothing to worry about. For a single sweet moment during auditions, Esti had almost believed it could happen, that a wisp of true talent still lived inside of her. If she had gotten Juliet, perhaps her passion for acting would have returned. Maybe Alan would have been interested enough to return as well.

She rubbed her temples. What good was an actress who couldn’t mold herself to any role required of her? Esti had stayed after practice almost every night to work on Lady Capulet, but she was completely unmotivated. She couldn’t blame her mysterious Romeo voice for not coming back. Alan Legard had loved cameos, effortlessly ruling the stage with a mere handful of lines. A Legard by any other name, Esti thought, might as well give up.

Onstage, Romeo and the Montagues were talking about crashing Juliet’s party, and Esti took a determined breath. She had to concentrate on the play. Analyze the plot. Bring the characters to life. Find a reason to care about Lady Capulet.

“Romeo was a gang member,” she said to Carmen. “He needed to act bored and cynical around his friends, right?”

“Yeah, and Juliet was always on her period.”

“Shhhh!” Esti tried not to laugh.

“What would The Great Legard say?”

“The Great Legard.” A whiny voice repeated Carmen’s words. “Wherefore art thou, oh Great Legard?”

Carmen glared at the redheaded boy sauntering past them. “I sure hope one of the teachers catches Steve smoking his ganja,” she muttered as soon as he was gone. “All he’s done is cause trouble since he got here last semester, and he is so replaceable as Lord Capulet.”

Esti couldn’t answer. The Great Legard would be watching his own daughter in bewilderment right now, so easily replaceable as Lord Capulet’s wife.

“Chaz,” Mr. Niles called up to the stage, “roll your eyes while Greg is talking. Mercutio never takes his friends seriously, not even when Romeo predicts his own death. Okay, Romeo, go ahead.”

“My mind misgives some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,” Greg began, following his friends to Juliet’s fateful party.

“I get why Niles has to focus on key scenes,” Carmen said. “But I wish he’d give the whole cast more time. The Christmas show isn’t that far away and you’ve had—what—a total of thirty seconds on stage? And I’ve only been up there twice. Maybe Danielle will break her leg on opening night.”

“Carmen!”

“I mean that completely as a good luck thing, of course.”

Esti hid a grin behind her hands. “Romeo is such a shallow character, I’m not surprised by Greg’s apathy. Romeo needs a great Juliet in order to shine.”

“Romeo’s the hottest guy Shakespeare ever invented.” Carmen sounded indignant.

“Romeo’s a fickle poet who happens to look hot.” Esti thought about what her dad had always said. “He goes suicidal over every pretty girl he sees. The minute Juliet smiles at him, he forgets his last girl and does everything he can to get into Juliet’s pants.”

Carmen’s snort of laughter was so loud that Mr. Niles turned and raised his eyebrows. As he turned away again, she closed her eyes and placed a hand over her heart. “You’ve ruined Romeo for me,” she whispered in a broken voice. “I’ll never fall in love again.”

Esti smiled, swinging her leg back and forth under her chair. Her dad had delved tirelessly into Shakespeare and his characters. They would spend hours at the dinner table discussing the tragic childhood of Richard III, the witty strength of Rosalind, Shakespeare’s own scandalous love life. Esti had treasured those times with her dad, even at the very end. Especially at the end.

“Besides,” Carmen continued, “Juliet didn’t wear pants. She was a naive idiot.”

“Juliet starts out naive, but she’s smart.” Esti was still smiling, remembering the expression on her dad’s face as she worked this one out for herself when she was ten. “She sees through Romeo’s beautiful words and makes him do the right thing. Romeo is the idealist, but Juliet’s the brain, which is even more tragic by the end.”

“Speaking of tragic, remember that Romeo voice you told me about?”

Esti forced herself to keep smiling, even though she’d almost decided that Alan had to be a Freudian figment of her poor-little-Esti imagination. Please don’t mention me to anyone. Right. A girl losing it was just that—a girl losing it.

“No,” she heard herself say to Carmen. “What voice?”

“You know!” Carmen gave her an impatient look. “You told me you heard a sexy voice prompting you during your audition.”

“Oh.” Esti gave a dismissive wave. “I’d forgotten about it.”

“Well, rumors are flying about a real jumbee in the theater. Chaz overheard Mr. Niles talking to Headmaster Fleming about finding some furniture rearranged, then Chaz said that he actually heard strange noises from inside the walls. I dare you to stay with me after rehearsal tonight to try and hear the voice again.” Carmen raised her eyebrows with a devious grin. “We can pull a Hamlet and see if the ghost comes back. I still have some chocolate chip cookies we could use as a lure.”

Before Esti could respond, Steve’s head appeared between Esti’s and Carmen’s.

“Esti talks to sexy jumbees?” He grinned widely.

“Get away from us, Stoner,” Carmen snapped. “Sexy is a concept totally beyond you.”

Steve laughed, flopping back into the seat behind them. With a huff, Carmen stood up, motioning for Esti to follow.

Of course Steve would play up the gossip for all it was worth, Esti thought morosely. Now Alan would never come back.

She didn’t want to go back up Bayrum Hill yet. As soon as she reached the house, her mom would know something was wrong. Esti was afraid to explain her delusions of Romeo, her lame rehearsals, or her difficult classmates. What if Aurora decided that Cariba had been a big mistake all along?

Imagining a sudden low moan in the breeze, Esti spun around and strode back to the old building. She quickly felt her way down the dark aisle and perched on the edge of the stage, hoping she wouldn’t lose her nerve. Her pathetic acting obviously hadn’t brought Alan back out of the shadows, so it was time to be more direct.

“Alan, are you here?” she said loudly. “I need you.”

“You need me?”

She jumped at Alan’s astonished reply, a bizarre range of emotions flooding her. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream while simultaneously leaping to her feet and demanding to know where he—or to be precise, his voice—had been all this time.

Instead, she dug her fingernails into her knees, overcome with shyness. She willed her heart to slow down enough that she might at least sound somewhat calm and rational.

“I’m thinking about quitting the play,” she said, “and moving back to Oregon.”

“No!” He cleared his throat as if his own spontaneous outburst embarrassed him, then added more softly, “Why in the world would you do that?”

His reaction warmed her all the way to her core. After a moment, however, she shook her head. “Now that my dad’s gone, the whole thing seems pointless. Would you tell me something?”

“What?” He sounded cautious.

“Am I wasting my time? I want you to be honest with me. Tell me I should just quit.”

“Esti, you can’t quit.” The shock in his voice turned into determination. “Not when you’ve come so far, and you have so much potential.”

“What potential?” Esti threw her hands up in the air. “That sounds lovely, but Mr. Niles has let me on stage exactly once.”

“Has it occurred to you that Danielle needs more help than you do? That she has a tendency to overact when she’s nervous?”

Esti opened her mouth in surprise, goose bumps covering her skin. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Not really.” He sounded embarrassed. “It’s just that some seats are in the right place. . . .”

Esti wondered where he’d been hiding. Beneath the stage, or behind one of the walls? Maybe floating in the air, invisible to all mortal beings?

“Never mind,” she said. “The thing is, I thought Manchicay would be good for me, but my so-called potential has shriveled up and blown away.”

“It hasn’t. I’ve been listening to you practice here in the evenings.”

“You were here all along.” She rubbed her hands together, embarrassed. “Why didn’t you say anything. Is it because my Lady Capulet stinks?”

“I wanted to speak, believe me. I thought about it, but . . .” He took a long, deep breath. “I never knew you might bring me cookies.”

“You were eavesdropping.” Oddly, his tone actually made her wish she’d swiped one of the cookies for him. “Carmen thinks cookies are the cure for all the world’s problems. Even . . .” Esti hesitated. “Even to lure a ghost from the darkness.”

A long silence followed her words. “There is no darkness but ignorance,” he finally said.

She drew her brows together, wondering if she was imagining his sadness. “My dad insisted that rehearsing in the dark kept him honest.”

“Did he say that?” Alan sounded startled. After a moment, he added, “To seek the light of truth, while truth the while doth falsely blind the eyesight of his look.”

A thrill of exuberance stabbed through Esti. “Light, seeking light,” she replied, “doth light of light beguile; So ere you find where light in darkness lies.”

Alan burst into laughter. “Beautiful.”

She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by a deep contentment she hadn’t felt in a long time. “I could get used to this.”

“Yes.” Alan sounded happy too. “I am curious why you never turn on the lights when you’re here alone.”

“Practicing in the dark is what I did when I was younger.” She picked at the frayed hole in the knee of her jeans, still smiling. “My dad told me his movies made him lazy on the stage. Theater needs perfect delivery, since you can’t rely on a close-up to create the mood. Gestures aren’t any good if your words don’t hold the audience. He always said that darkness would teach me to control my voice better.”

“You have wonderful control over your voice.”

“Well, thank you,” Esti said, suddenly glum again. “Or maybe I used to. I just can’t find the enthusiasm for it any more. What’s to control, with Lady Capulet?”

“Since Juliet is one of Shakespeare’s most capable female characters,” Alan said, “the role of her mother is vital. Lady Capulet is totally subservient to her husband, yet she produced a daughter with Juliet’s strength. How?”

Esti almost smiled. This was the kind of question no one had asked since her dad died. “It wasn’t because of a strong mother-daughter relationship, that’s for sure.”

“Could you use that?”

“Maybe.” Esti felt a stirring of interest. “Maybe I could build on Lady Capulet’s lack of interest in her daughter, and how she forces Juliet into impossible decisions. She’ll be mean and scary, instead of indifferent and shallow.”

“Exactly!” Alan laughed. “I knew I was right about you. If anyone can turn Lady Capulet into a complex character, it’s Esti Legard.”

“You keep flattering me.” She stared into the darkness, overwhelmed. “But I like it,” she added softly.

He was quiet for a moment. “Esti, I want to know more about you. What is it about acting that you love so much? Are you hoping for fame?”

Esti felt a tremble deep inside her body as she realized that no one had ever asked why she wanted to be an actress. Everyone, even her father, had just assumed she would follow in The Great Legard’s footsteps.

“I already have fame through my dad.” Her words felt tentative, like she was exploring a new side of herself. “Quite honestly, I hate that part. What I love is hearing the magical prose, and the escape in being a different person in a different time. Right now,” she added shyly, “what I love is talking to you. You remind me how important it is to feel the words.”

“Mmm.” Alan sounded pleased. “Is that why you called to me this evening?”

“I have forgot why I did call thee back.” Juliet’s words left her mouth before she could stop them.

“Let me stand here till thou remember it.” Romeo’s soft reply sent shivers through her body.

“I shall forget,” she whispered, “to have thee still stand there, remembering how I love thy company.”

“And I’ll still stay, to have thee still forget—” He abruptly broke off.

Esti was glad he couldn’t see the blush heating her face in the darkness. “It helps,” she said rapidly, “talking to someone who understands.”

“Yes, it does.”

The pause that settled between them held a raw comfort. Esti yearned to nestle in it, to deepen her ties to this mysterious Romeo.

Alan spoke again before she could ask, his voice growing formal. “Might you be interested in occasionally getting together after rehearsals? Perhaps early next week?”

“Of course.” She shoved down a flash of joy, forcing herself to sound casual. “I would love that.”

“I would, also.” His quiet words betrayed a happiness so like her own that Esti couldn’t stop herself.

“Please,” she said, reaching out in the darkness. “Tell me you aren’t just a voice.”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow.” His words fell through the humid air with a painful thud, and she suddenly knew he was gone.

“Alan, wait!” She pressed her trembling fingers together to keep them steady. Only silence wafted across the stage in reply, Alan’s strange presence as fleeting as a tropical breeze.