“But now he’s gonna tease me about it forever,” I say. “And that’s after he tells my friends at the next GSA meeting. I bet ten bucks they’ll follow me around making kissing noises next time I see them.”

“Come on.” He snorts. “That’s how friends are.”

Is Jesse my friend? I didn’t think of him that way before, but the more I think about it, about the teasing, the more the word feels right. I smile to myself. Then the bell rings, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“There’s the bell,” Miles says, titling his head toward the classroom door. “You might wanna get in there now, since I’m pretty sure you’re late.”

“You suck,” I call behind him. “Your name twin Miles Davis would be ashamed of your antics, young man.”

“Thanks,” he calls back. “I’m sure Nina Simone is proud of your delinquent activity. I bet she never skipped class to kiss a hot guy.”

“Miles.”

“It’s okay,” he says, sticking his head around a corner. “If I had been around, I’m sure I could’ve made her late, too.”

He knows Miles Davis and Nina Simone. I’m not sure if I should kiss him again, or punch him for making me late.

CHAPTER 16

Normally, it’s easy to throw myself into rehearsal. The show has so many moving parts that there’s always something new catching my attention. But today, I can’t focus. Maybe it’s because Ms. Klein is following me everywhere I move—to the pit orchestra, backstage—like she’s making sure I don’t screw up.

Eventually, I migrate toward the front of the auditorium, folding my arms over my chest to make myself seem more official. Looking out at the cast fills me with dread. First, there’s the way everyone groans once I pull out my notebook. And there’s the fact that we’re losing time, not gaining it. The more notes I add, the more we have to work on, only we’ll have less time to do it.

“Okay, just a few notes,” I call out. “Rocco, try not to upstage Wyatt. Share the stage. Share the wealth. You know what I mean?”

Rocco grins, sheepish, while Wyatt, who plays Roger, sticks his tongue out at him.

“Mia, make sure you look at the audience,” I say. Mia, playing the role of Maureen, is a sophomore who only speaks when she’s onstage. “Don’t be shy about it, okay? People want to see you.”

She blinks at me. I guess that means she heard me.

“Laila,” I say, glancing over at her. “Looking good.”

She winks.

“Eric,” I say, switching gears. “You’re not enunciating your lines properly. At this point, you should just drop the New York accent. It’s not working.”

His face scrunches up like he just smelled something bad.