I have a couple of pre-audition rituals. “A couple” makes it sound cute, but there are five things I need to do, or I won’t get the part. All completely necessary to my success. First, I need to eat two bowls of cereal in the morning. Doesn’t matter what cereal, just needs to be two. Aunt Lil didn’t have any cereal in her house when I first arrived, so I had to buy Froot Loops special for the audition to the school. Second, must wear a black shirt. Easy ’cause that’s my uniform anyways. Third, and this is when things get weird, listen to my playlist of whale sounds. Fourth, give five compliments. This is important—it helped me book Mary Poppins at summer camp. I’ve given four compliments today and need one more. Finally, take a walk before my audition. And that’s what I’m doing now. While listening to my whale sounds.

As I cross the street to school, there’s someone familiar sitting on the front steps, leaning against her guitar case, soaking up the sun. Maggie from the New Music program, who sings songs called “Too Much.”

Turns out the New Music program is a big deal. Elijah said only ten people get into the group and they all end up famous. I watch Maggie from across the street. She’s got on black jeans and a denim jacket. Green shirt underneath. Maggie looks chill. Calm. Opposite of me right now. I will match her energy. For her, I’ll play Cool Guy.

I mess up my hair a little, smooth out my shirt, and cross the street. “Come here often?”

“Almost every day, actually,” she says, her voice scratchy and soothing. “I’m waiting for my bandmates. We’re going to rehearse.”

“Your New Music bandmates?” I say, flexing my memory skills.

“Yes, we have a band called Nerd Cheese.”

“Not really.”

“It’s memorable.”

“So are you,” I say coolly.

She smiles. “Auditions are today?”

“Yeah, mine is soon.”

“Nervous?”

Cool Guy says, “Nah.”

“I would be. I couldn’t imagine the pressure. Especially at this school.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Really?” she asks. “That’s suspicious.”

I wave her off. “I do this all the time.”

“So, you’re not nervous?”

I sit down beside her. “I don’t get nervous,” I say, wondering if she can tell I’m completely lying.

“Oh man, I do. The first time I auditioned for a musical in middle school, I told them my name was Magoo.”

I laugh. “You did theater?”

“Yeah, but acting wasn’t my thing. I love playing music—that’s all I want to do. But I get so nervous onstage. Why do you love acting?”

“Do you think dentists get asked the same question?” I ask.

She laughs. “They have an undeniable passion for teeth.”