“No way,” I say, trying to get a better look. Anna smiles with the satisfaction of delivering juicy gossip. Robert Sudds was recently cast as the new James Bond. Justin’s just as good-looking as his dad. He runs his hand though his hair and begins, “Objective is the motivation for the scene, and super-objective is the play’s overall motivation.”

“Close,” Mr. Daniels says. “But let’s think about it in terms of your character. The character’s objective is something they want in the scene, and the character’s super-objective is the character’s overall goal, the thing that drives their every movement, decision, and interaction with other characters. You want to find love. You want revenge. You want to be in the room where it happens. You just can’t wait to be king.”

A redhead raises her hand. “What’s your super-objective, Mr. Daniels?”

“To retire and play chess in the park. And help you become good actors. Sometimes characters have two super-objectives.”

“How about three?” a kid asks.

“Don’t get greedy, Mr. Griffith. I’ll be proud if you can conquer one,” Mr. Daniels says with a wink. It’s clearly in good fun, but Mr. Daniels is in control and won’t be shaken by hecklers.

“August Greene?”

I reluctantly raise my hand—like I’m volunteering for the firing squad. This is not how I want the class to meet me. Mr. Daniels stands at the lip of the stage with his hands behind his back. He looks pleased. He likes this kind of thing. “There you are. August?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, my voice cracking. The class turns around, every single eye on me.

“Class, this is August. A new student from New Jersey.”

“Pennsylvania,” I correct him. The class giggles softly.

“Same difference,” he says. The class laughs louder. He continues, “August, what’s your objective for the school year?”

“To make it to Broadway,” I joke, and the class laughs. I can be the Funny Guy, too.

“So soon?” Mr. Daniels questions.

“I’m ready,” I say, getting another laugh.

Mr. Daniels gets frustrated. “What’s your super-objective?”

I copy the son of James Bond and run my hand through my hair. “I want to be a working actor.”

“Try to dig deeper, August,” Mr. Daniels says, walking toward me.

Does he want me to tell everyone I’m transgender? I’m not ready for that. What does he want? As much as I want to please my new teacher, I’m not going to spill my life story. “I want to be a busy working actor?”

Mr. Daniels turns back to the class. “Here’s my first exercise for you, due Monday: a one-page paper on what your super-objective is for your acting career. I know this is personal stuff. I promise not to share with the class. Unless you say something ridiculous.” He smiles. “Then you’re forcing me to share it.”