“If I missed curfew, she would take away my phone and ground me for a month.”

“A month?” Aunt Lil questions while beginning her coffee process. “Look, August, I’m not trying to be your mom. I’m not going to take away your phone and shut you in your room. But you need follow my rules. My liver needs it, too.”

“Deal,” I say.

“Now get out of here so I can suffer alone.”

“Davina’s not here?” I ask, surprised. They usually are at their peak happiest on Sunday morning. Always heading to a brunch and art galleries.

She stops grinding the coffee beans. “We had a little fight last night.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling responsible.

Aunt Lil senses my guilt. “Nothing to do with you and your tardy butt. Now get out of here. Scram!”

“Love you,” I say, then run out the door. I will not be the late one.

9:59 A.M.

The actors—full of nervous energy and caffeine—sit onstage and watch Meena pace the floor holding her clipboard tightly to her chest. The all-powerful headset hugs her head and has been decorated with purple and yellow stickers. People are working on the sets and lights. There’s a makeshift director’s table in the middle of the audience where Mr. Daniels looks over some papers. Or just politely ignores us.

It’s a minute before call time and two actors are missing: Justin Sudds and Beth from the ensemble. Who will be the late one? Meena is ready to jump. Beth walks in, leaving the honor to Justin, aka Tess’s showmance. Every second that goes by leaves me more tense. The other actors feel it, too, but are also glad it’s not them.

Every tech week, there’s typically a moment when an actor messes up and gets lectured in front of everyone. The stage manager—and sometimes the director, depending on their temper—pounce on the sacrificial lamb to set the tone of tech week and make it serious. Up the importance. Heighten the drama. From the looks of Meena, the freak-out will come sooner rather than later. I lean over to Elijah and say, “I don’t think Justin will survive this.”

Elijah laughs. “I’ve seen her like this before. Meena is all bark, no bite.”

Poor Justin runs in with a panicked look.

Meena stomps over, waving her clipboard. “Justin, you’re late. Do you think there are special rules for you?”

“Sorry,” he says, hands up.

“You’re sorry? Just ’cause your dad is James Bond doesn’t mean you can make up your own rules.” She makes her star turn toward the cast. “Guys, tech week is no joke. We need you here on time, focused, and ready.”

“Yes,” Mr. Daniels says from the director’s table. “Meena is right, we need to be our best selves this week.”