I can’t tell them the truth. I like the way they are looking at me. Today, I feel seen by everyone. I don’t want to lose that by revealing how mean the famous director was to me. “He’s not happy about losing Caesar.”

“No shit,” Anna cuts in. “He’s been pretty public about his feelings online.”

“Digital hate crimes,” Jack adds.

“How did they offer you the part?” Meena asks.

I got the call yesterday—too early, but I acted awake. Rosalyn made the offer and told me to call her back with my decision by the end of the day. Aunt Lil and I had a long talk about taking the part. She was concerned about the character. I convinced her I would be fine. No way in the world I would turn down this opportunity. This is my path. Getting the part of Ajax is my star turn. When I walk into a room, people will point and mention it. I called Rosalyn back and accepted the offer.

“The casting director, her name is Rosalyn—”

“Rosalyn Perez?” Anna asks, always knowing someone in the industry. “Did she call you babe?”

“Yes, she did, babe,” I say, then everyone laughs. It wasn’t even that funny. “She called yesterday morning and offered me the part on a probationary contract. I don’t really understand it, but they are finding me an agent to handle it.”

“Hell yes, August,” Meena says. “They are going to find you an agent. When does that ever happen?”

I shrug, knowing it’s cool, but playing it off.

“Someone found me an agent,” Elijah says casually.

“Who? Your mom?” Anna asks.

“Yes, but still,” he says. Elijah usually eats lunch with seniors, but I guess he wanted to hear about my audition.

“Did you celebrate the offer yesterday?” Meena asks.

“You could say that.” I keep it vague because I spent the entire day in bed. I needed a day to decompress after my parents’ visit, the audition, and closing Grease. I’m no stranger to the post-show blues. There’s no avoiding the sadness after your show closes. So much energy and time put into something, so many ups and downs, bonding with the cast, and memories. I did find enough energy to post my Grease montage of pictures, from first rehearsal to closing party, with a gushy too-long caption to my three thousand followers. Lots of likes and hearts.

Jack puts their arm around me. “You’re living the dream.”

“Just think,” Anna muses, “two months ago you were a big nobody in Whatever, Pennsylvania, and now you’ve landed a role in a major workshop that might go to Broadway.”

“I’m still wrapping my head around it,” I say. “And the first show is in eight days.”

“Oh my god, I’d be freaking out,” Meena says, always thinking—and freaking out—like a stage manager.

“I don’t have many lines.”