Melted hasn’t been low stakes for a while—but this revelation reshapes the importance of its success. I have to figure out a way to work with Reid. Our inability to collaborate can lead to a problem so much bigger than a stolen song key or a cut character.

I close my bedroom door behind me, vowing to cool it with the dramatics.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The night before my seventeenth birthday, I throw myself a party.

For the record, I’ve never been much of a birthday person. I am a Scorpio, after all. Really, I enjoy the simple birthday pleasures—homemade cards, eating takeout Thai food straight from the carton, and Mom’s famous devil’s food cake. An early November birthday means it’s usually cold enough to deter any outdoor activities, so my tradition is just a movie night in with Henry, Fitz, and Delia, laughing and watching romcoms and being us.

But tonight my basement is full of people I semi-know.

Delia is sleeping over at Hannah’s tonight and Lincoln Street Blues has a much-needed overnight gig at a wedding on Cape Cod, playing both at the rehearsal dinner and during the ceremony. Mom goes with them, promising on her way out the door to be back in plenty of time to have proper birthday festivities tomorrow night. I can’t remember the last time my parents took a trip together, just the two of them, and it’s kind of a birthday present itself.

Instead of hosting the chill birthday of my dreams though, Henry asked if he could invite Danica and I said of course! because it is currently easier to swallow my Henry abandoned me for Danica issues than to deal with them.

As a result, the entirety of Lincoln’s musical theater department has now ended up in my basement. At least they came bearing the gift of cheap vodka.

“Happy birthday, Natalie!” Makayla and Arjun—who I did invite—sing, competing with an unfamiliar show tune blasting in the background as they present a plate of pizza bagels.

“Pesto with spinach and tomatoes,” Arjun says. “Someone almost made basic cheese.”

Makayla rolls her eyes. “It’s a safe choice!”

“Pesto. Always pesto,” I confirm, taking the plate of bagels. “Thanks, Arjun. Makayla, your choices are forgiven because you look amazing!” I exclaim with a one-armed hug. It is an occasion when Makayla is not in athletic wear and she looks so chic in patterned flowy pants and a black cropped tank top.

“Thanks!” Makayla laughs over the music. “I guess I missed you. Even though we have classes together every day. Weird!”

“I missed you too!”