But casting! Reid and I are in charge and Danica is onstage, teaching a dozen thespians the tap dance she threw together last night, like it’s easy. I watch her move through the piece step by step, shuffling and—okay, so “shuffle” is the only tap word I know. How so many Lincoln students have tap shoes, I have no idea.

Henry is standing in the wings because apparently this show only matters now when Danica is involved. He avoids eye contact. Obviously. Overlapping shifts at Chao Down have been a new form of misery. Casting is a major milestone, a step toward making Melted real. We should be celebrating.

Instead, we’re both too stubborn to concede an apology standoff.

Dad is here too, grading AP Music Theory papers in the back of the auditorium. With Delia’s bat mitzvah only weeks away, term grade deadlines approaching, finding a new gig for Lincoln Street Blues, and the vague threat of layoffs—it seems like he’s happy to defer this process to Reid and me. I guess us getting along probably helps.

It’s the last day of auditions, and so far it has been nothing short of a smooth, collaborative process. I picked out the monologues last week and chose a flashback of the first time Adina used her powers. Reid chose the songs, a mix of contemporary show tunes that best reflect the style of Melted. The dancing is all Danica, as I can’t even pretend I know how to choreograph anything. Most days, I can barely choreograph myself, like, walking down the street.

“What are we going to do about Fitz?” Reid asks.

So much for smooth.

Fitz is currently onstage in the back row winging this routine because, like me, she has never shuffle-hop-whatevered before. Fitz is one million percent the best actress we auditioned. I’m not saying it because she’s one of my best friends. I’m saying it because when she reads scenes, they make me feel exactly how I wanted the audience to feel when I wrote them.

But the dancing…

“It wasn’t that bad,” I whisper, as if it’s possible for Fitz to hear us over the music.

“Natalie.”

“Okay! It was bad. I don’t know what happened?”

Fitz restarted twice but sort of kept up with the musical theater people during the jazz routine. Tap though has been an implosion. In all fairness, one cannot exactly learn how to tap dance overnight.

“If we need a backup plan, I think Emerson is a solid alternative to play Adina,” Reid says.

“Emerson is a freshman,” I say, my mouth practically dropping open.

Everyone likes to pretend the audition process is blind and not biased. But there is a hierarchy at work here. One in which freshmen rarely, if ever, get cast as leads. It’s not their time.

“Plus, Emerson can sing!” Reid says.

“But we spent so much time reworking ‘Keep It In.’ ”