Elijah told me the whole school shows up—which I didn’t believe—but it turns out he was right. People are in the booths drinking sodas and eating fries, or standing around the pool table, or gathered in front of the small stage in the back. This night is well documented—everyone has their phone out taking selfies, group photos, and videos. One of the twins Anna introduced me to on the first day (the “twiple threat”) is onstage, strangling the mic stand, and belting at least two keys away from the right one.

Elijah finds me hiding at the bar and hands me a red plastic cup filled with soda. “What Tiffany is doing to ‘Defying Gravity’ should be outlawed.” He covers his ears as Tiffany hits the high notes at the end.

“She is defying my ears right now,” I kid.

Elijah hops up on a barstool, sipping on his Coke. “Take a drink,” he demands.

I take a sip and my tongue burns. “Yuck.”

“Yuck? Excuse me, that’s the finest four-dollar whiskey.”

“Thanks?” I offer.

“Are you going to grace the stage tonight?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“I don’t think so,” I say, getting nervous at the thought of being up there.

“I’m telling you, August, Amber DeJesus went viral from a video someone posted of her singing here, and now she’s doing sponsored ads for laxative tea. Adam Long got his agent from this, and one time, I got a kiss from Richie Valentine. Anything can happen.”

“Maybe next week?”

“Listen to me,” he says, adjusting an imaginary bow tie, “I’m a senior.”

“I listen to you because you’re the Gushers guy,” I say.

“Did you sign up for an audition spot?” he asks, avoiding any conversations about Gushers.

“I did,” I say.

Elijah puts his arms around me. “Your first audition at SPA.”

“Virgin right here.”

He claps. “Allow me to lay things out for you. Or maybe Anna told you?”

“She did not,” I confirm. She won’t even look at me anymore.

“There’s definitely politics to the casting of an SPA musical,” he begins, and I take a big drink of my soda. “Lead roles like Danny and Sandy go to seniors unless there’s an exceptional junior. Never an underclassman. The ensemble is filled with juniors and the occasional stand-out freshman or sophomore. Speaking roles go to the seniors mostly, but there’s room. I’ve had speaking roles since sophomore year, but I’m me.” He flashes a smile. Elijah has the confidence thing down.

“And you’re going for Danny?” I ask.

“Oh yeah,” he says in full Danny Zuko voice. “Hey, they won’t know what hit them,” he says, sounding more like a drunk John Travolta.

“Tell me more, tell me more,” I joke.

“Soon,” he says, dropping the impression. “But first, who are you going for?”