When Anna gets to me, she drops my script down. “Sorry about your scene partner,” she whispers.

“What?” I ask, scanning the top of my page for a name. TESS MONTAGUE. “Who is this?”

Anna smiles and points to the girl a few rows over. She would make a great Regina George. “Is she a mean girl?” I ask.

“The meanest,” Anna confirms, then continues handing out scripts. Everyone pairs off and spreads out around the room. Tess remains at her desk, reading her script. I walk over and say, “Hi, I’m August Greene.”

“I know who you are,” she says, not even looking up.

“We are scene partners,” I offer.

“I’m aware.” She puts her highlighter down and fake smiles.

She knows so much about me. “So, want to run the scene?” I ask.

“I’d rather work with my script. It’s best for me.”

“Okay,” I say, frustrated. We should be figuring out blocking and running lines, but instead we work separately as the room explodes around us with laughter, talking, and overly dramatic readings. This is not going well. I skim the scene, but I’m too annoyed to concentrate. It’s a two-page fight between a husband and wife. Full of clichés. Boring.

“Hey,” I say, earning me an eye roll from Tess. “How about we switch parts? I play the wife and you play the husband. That would be memorable.”

She looks disgusted. “Why would we do that? Why would I play the husband?”

“It’s just an idea.” I get bold and say, “I can play both genders.”

Another scoff. “You can? Who says you can?”

I feel the need to defend myself. “I’m transgender,” I say, hoping that explains it.

“So you can play both roles?”

“And how are we doing?” Mr. Daniels asks, standing over me and Tess.

“Hello, Mr. Daniels,” Tess practically chirps. “We’re doing great.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Daniels says. “Maybe it would help to run the actual lines from the scene, too? You have about four minutes left.” He walks on to the next group.

Tess looks at me. “Why can’t I find anything about you online?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who are your parents?” she asks.

“Why does it matter?”

Tess tilts her head. “Someone in your family has to be famous. Or rich. Last I checked, they don’t let some nobody from Pennsylvania show up at the last second and attend the most prestigious arts high school in the country.”

I shake my head in disbelief. I don’t even know what to say. I look down at my script. I need to concentrate. I’m playing Donnie. The whole scene is Donnie begging his wife to stay. She doesn’t love him. My mind is racing.