“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. Just for that, I don’t tell him that Anam, Nazifa, and Syeda also already know. It’s not like he’ll ever meet any of them.

“Fine,” Emmitt says back, glowering at me, and I slam my locker door shut, hoping to startle the look off his face.

Suddenly the distance between us seems nonexistent, my arm nearly brushing against his chest. “I won’t tell anyone and I’ll help you with your photography contest, but you have to start coming to our film club meetings,” I say, forcing myself to remain unaffected. “And you’ll act in the role assigned to you by me and Rosie.”

Emmitt leans down, his nose brushing against mine. I inhale sharply and almost take a step back but manage to stand my ground, peering up at him through my lashes. “It’s a deal,” he says.

I swallow roughly. “It’s a deal.” Then I shoulder past him, our elbows knocking into each other. “Come on, you don’t want to be late to your first film club meeting.”

Emmitt hums but follows after me, his confidence returning with every step he takes, before he flows into an easy gait at my side.

All the while, I try not to question my sanity for agreeing to this.

The film club meeting goes relatively normal. Rosie nearly jumps out of her seat when she sees me walk in alongside Emmitt. Grant gives both of us a look of disbelief, and I barely resist sticking my tongue out at him.

The rest of the club members look between us in bemusement, but they move on when I don’t bother introducing Emmitt. Only Christina keeps watching me, but for an entirely different reason. I give her a small smile before launching into an explanation of what to expect when auditions start on Tuesday.

The last thing I want to do is bring attention to Emmitt’s existence. This is film club, after all. It’s more than possible that one of the others has seen one of Emmitt’s indie films or heard about him starring in the upcoming Firebrand movie. I made a deal to keep his identity a secret, so putting him on blast is going to do me no favors.

At any rate, they’ll see his face often enough when he stars in our film.

“How did you do it?” Rosie whispers after we’re done explaining, and Emmitt has taken a seat beside Grant in the back.

“By selling my soul to the devil,” I say, trying not to think too hard about the fact that those words feel like the truth.

Rosie raises her eyebrows before holding out her Hydro Flask, which she bought ironically because of TikTok and now uses almost constantly. “Cheers to the devil, then.”

I sigh, clinking my Mad Max: Fury Road (2015) water bottle against hers. “Cheers to the devil.”

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