I really sing out “But none of them will ever love you the way I do” and hope my friends will accept my apology. The crowd is clapping and I’m dancing, letting myself get carried away in the song.

And just as the last chorus begins, Elijah and Anna jump up onstage. They circle around me and lean into the mic, and we sing together. I’m so happy to have them onstage with me and back in my life. We make eye contact on the final “You’ve got a friend in me.” We finish the last note—a nice mix of harmonies—and immediately group hug.

“I love a grand gesture!” Anna yells over the applause.

We clear the stage for the next performance, and they lead me back to their table.

“I’m sorry, guys,” I say. “I was acting so full of myself at the Rocky Horror party to hide the fact that I was insecure about Conversion. And I handled the Duncan thing poorly.”

“August,” Elijah says, “I was out of bounds that night. You did the right thing.”

“And,” Anna jumps in, “we both realized Duncan is slimy. Ugh, I should have known a cello player would be no good.”

“He wasn’t even that good at kissing,” Elijah says.

Anna rolls her eyes. “Agreed.”

“So we’re okay?” I ask.

“We’re solid gold,” he says, then puts his arm around me.

“Listen up,” Mitch yells into the microphone, effectively getting our attention. “It’s everyone’s favorite part of the night. Our resident songstress, Maggie Ridge.”

I watch Maggie take the stage. She’s wearing her yellow-tinted aviator glasses, a flowy red dress, and she has her acoustic guitar. “Hello, Haswell Green’s,” she says. “I’ll be playing a new song tonight. It’s about a boy.” The audience oohs and aahs as she strums her guitar and tunes a string. “It’s called ‘Limelight.’”

The back of my neck goes hot. I told her all about the limelight on our walk home from the Grease after-party. This song is about me.

You’re always trying to be

What you need for the scene

But I know it’s an act

Yeah I know it’s an act

When the lights go down

And no one is around

Do you know who you are

’Cause I know who you are

The world is a stage

And you’re just playing

But what’s the truth

You aren’t sayin’

Step into your limelight

There’s only a few

Who can do what you do

You have what it takes

But what is at stake

Step into your limelight

Find that perfect spot

Hit your mark and stop

Tell me what you see

Do you ever see me?

The crowd claps and cheers, and goose bumps run over my body. I excuse myself and head down to the basement—the place of our meet-cute.