My cheeks heat up again. Jesse is nice and everything, but we don’t talk about anything besides the play. This seems like an awkward time to suddenly start being friends.

“Ugh,” I groan, running a hand through my hair. “Did he tell you about it? Already? Look, it’s not as bad as it sounds—”

“Tell me about what?” He shakes his head. “Miles just said you were having a rough day. You have that look about you—the boy-trouble look. I know I see it in the mirror all the time.”

“Oh.” Miles didn’t tell him. I find myself smiling. “Boys suck, don’t they?”

“Agreed,” Jesse says. “And, for some reason, we still like them. It’s the way of the world.”

I might be wrong, but his eyes seem to linger on Rocco a little longer than they should. It’s not like Rocco is a bad guy. It’s just—they don’t seem to go together. Then again, I don’t think I match up with Miles, either. He’s popular and good at talking to people, while I could make a career out of acting like a fool. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who’s bad at this whole crush thing.

“We’re gonna be eighty by the time this is finished,” Jesse says, shifting his attention to the stage. “I think the other kids get worse every year. When I was a freshman, everything got done way ahead of time.”

Most of the scenery is painted dark gray with a little bit of colorful graffiti spray painted on the sides. There’s still a lot to do, but it doesn’t look completely horrible.

“Oh, come on.” I nudge his shoulder and he raises a brow. “It doesn’t look that bad, dude. I’m sure you’ll pull it together.”

“Let’s hope so.” He folds his arms. “Otherwise, we’re screwed.”

“Your positivity is blinding.” I shake my head, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Hey, we should talk more sometime. Maybe during lunch? You’re really the only other student in, like, a leadership role.”

“Sure. We can go over your notes,” he says, pressing his lips together in a smile. “But it might take more than a lunch period to get through all of them.”

“I don’t mean to have so many,” I say. God, I hope I’m not blushing. “Palumbo just said to do what feels right, so I write down everything I’m thinking, and then I end up with pages and pages of notes. But I don’t always expect Palumbo to agree with them. I keep thinking he’ll tell me to shut up one of these days.”

“Simone, it’s fine.” Jesse laughs, hands resting on his headphones. “I’m just teasing you.”