I shake my head. “When it comes to the stage, I’m not interested in playing trans characters. I want to be the trans actor playing all the great male and female characters, including Rizzo.”

“Rizzo is a bad bitch,” she concedes. “August, you can always talk to me. That’s why I came here. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

I lean over and nudge her. “Thank you,” I say.

She picks at the polish on her nail. “I heard something else. Should I tell you?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Juliet shrugs. “Anna will be the reader during the audition.”

That’s not good news. Anna—the person who hates me most—will be in the room (judging me) and reading the lines with me (sabotaging me). “That’s not going to help my focus.”

Juliet waves me off. “You just need to kiss and make up.”

I tilt my head. “She’s pissed.”

“Well, maybe not kiss. But I know she’ll forgive you.”

“Did she tell you we fought about her dad?” I ask.

Juliet stops fidgeting with her nail and looks up. “Actually, no.”

Relief floods over me. At least she isn’t telling everyone that I’m a fraud who flirted my way into the school. “Thanks for finding me,” I say to Juliet.

“No matter what happens between you and Anna, we’ll be friends.”

“I’m glad,” I say, then we hug. I’m happy to have Juliet as a friend. I can be more myself with her than anyone else, even if I don’t tell her the whole truth.

“Want to get lunch?” she asks. “I could skip the lunchroom today.”

“I’d love that, but I have something,” I say, backing away. That something is a lunch date. With Yazmin Guzman. I woke up to something unusual: a text from Yaz. Even more unusual, she asked me to lunch. I nearly leaped out of bed and have been counting the minutes until now. My thoughts are crowded with Yaz. Will she like this shirt? Did they break up again? Is she thinking about me? I walk up to the fifth floor like she instructed. Yaz wants to have lunch with me but doesn’t want to do it under the scrutiny of the cafeteria. I spot her on a bench, looking at her phone. “Auggie!” she yells.

“Auggie?” I repeat, walking to her.

“You don’t like? That’s my new name for you. Auggie,” she repeats.

Auggie is a kid’s name. Is that how she sees me?

“I don’t love it,” I say, being honest.

“You’ll love it when I say it. Now sit,” she demands, patting the bench. She reaches into her turtle backpack and pulls out a foil ball. “I want to tell you something about me. Something I don’t tell most people.”

“Okay,” I say, my heart beating fast.