“Why did Yazmin invite you?” Anna begins her interrogation. “How are you friends with her? This is all new information.”

I shrug and take a drink. “She invited me after my monologue.”

Anna thinks. “Did you know her dad is some famous music executive? She claims he helped create Selena Gomez.”

“She didn’t tell me,” I admit. I try to imagine what it would be like to have a famous dad surrounded by famous people. Or to live in this big hedge-fund apartment. Or do anything that a typical SPA student does on a normal day. I wonder what Hugo would think of this party. I miss my best friend from back home, but I don’t know if he would accept me like my new friends do.

“What did I tell you? You’re on your way . . .” Anna keeps talking as I scan the room, in awe of the people who surround me. All good-looking. Stylish clothes. Much different from the parties in the woods at my old school. I spot Tess Montague in the corner talking to some girls. A few other people look familiar, and everyone looks cool.

“Anna Banana!” we hear from behind us.

“Elijah,” she nearly shrieks, then throws her arms around the guy who was walking with Yazmin at lunch. His smile could bring about world peace. He’s wearing a loose shirt, tight jeans, and Air Jordans. He must be in my morning classes—I know his face, but I still can’t place him. Anna swings around, flipping her hair. “Elijah, meet August. He’s new to SPA.”

“I’ve seen you around, man, nice to meet you.”

“Have we met?” I ask.

He laughs. “I get that a lot. Maybe this will help.” He pretends to get into character, clears his throat, then says, “Hey, Mom! I need my Gushers!”

And then it clicks—he was the Gushers guy in a commercial that played for years. I had every line of the commercial memorized, and now I’m standing in front of the Gushers guy. “Holy shit,” I manage to say. “You’re the Gushers guy?”

“Oh yeah, sentenced to a life of being the Gushers guy, but that commercial is going to pay for my college next year.”

“Did you decide where you’re going?” Anna asks.

“Either NYU or USC,” he says with a shrug, like he’s picking between peanut butter and jelly.

“Wow,” I say. Those are the top colleges for acting. I’ve done some research on this—dreaming of getting out of West Grove and studying theater. Then I would look up the tuition and my dreaming would end. “Does going to SPA help you get accepted?” I ask.

Anna and Elijah laugh. “Yes, August,” Anna says. “It makes it easy.”

“And there’s a counselor who will help you with scholarships,” Elijah says. I get excited. Maybe my dreams weren’t as far-fetched as I thought.