“And how long will this little tiff between you and Anna last?”

I shrug. “No clue. She won’t even look in my direction.”

“That’s Anna,” Juliet concedes. “She wears her heart on her sleeve, even when she’s wearing something sleeveless. And she likes you.”

I nod. “I like her, too. Just not like that.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Juliet says.

“What?” I say innocently.

“Anna told us about what went down on the balcony, Romeo.”

“She really did tell you everything.”

“You know Anna,” she says, then snaps her fingers and claps awkwardly. “Am I doing it right?”

“That’s your hand jive?”

“Needs practice,” she admits, then gives up butchering it any further. “Can’t believe the prestigious School of Performing Arts is putting on something as pedestrian as Grease.”

I don’t care if it makes me nerdy to love Grease. I correctly jive my hands and say, “It’s a classic.”

“No, what you’re doing is iconic.”

I stop. “What’s that?”

“Rumor is you’re going for Rizzo?”

I look at her. “How did you know?”

She rolls her eyes. “Guess who.”

Of course, Anna is telling people. But how did she know? “I am,” I confirm, curious what Juliet thinks about my choice.

“Pegged you as more of a Kenickie. Or Danny.”

“Elijah will get Danny—no reason to try.”

“I suppose.” She taps her feet together. “Are you auditioning for a female part as some kind of gender statement?”

“No,” I say flatly.

“My bad,” she says. “Don’t want to overstep, but you identify as male and present as male—why play a female role?”

Rizzo is a great role. She’s a strong character with a killer solo, but that’s not why I’m auditioning for the part. The real reason is my mom. And Randy, I guess. They are planning on coming to see me in Grease. More correctly, they are coming to see their daughter in the show, and their daughter would play Rizzo. They can’t know I’m August. They can’t know I’ve socially transitioned. If they find out, they will take me back to Pennsylvania. Or send me to conversion therapy.

I want to tell Juliet—if anyone would understand, it would be her. I wonder what she would say. Would she dissuade me or support me? Her family is supportive, and mine is not. She might tell people, too. It’s not worth risking. “Elijah said it was my best shot at a lead role,” I say. “Plus, I’ve presented female all my life, and the only roles I played at my old school were female.”

Juliet thinks. “So maybe you’re scared to go for male roles?”

“No,” I say, “I’m good at them, too.”

“And it doesn’t bother you to present female? You don’t feel uncomfortable?”