“You don’t need to tell me,” she says, grinning at me mischievously. I shove her, because her ego is dangerously large. She breaks away from me, laughing, and peers through the office window. “How’s it going in there?”

“I think my mom’s ripping him apart,” I say cheerfully.

“Good.”

I join her in peering through the office window. “I have a good feeling about this,” I say, taking her hand. Her palm feels cold on mine. I smile at her, hopeful.

“Me too.”

Epilogue

The stage lights are blinding in my eyes as I face the audience. “ ‘On the street where I live, there are people that I love,’ ” I sing, walking across the stage with Mikey. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the rest of the cast behind me dancing and singing their harmonies for all they’re worth. “ ‘They wave hello as we pass on by.’ ”

“Fifteen percent off brooms today!” the guy playing my character’s dad shouts from stage right.

“ ‘Way uptown, where the people fly,’ ” Mikey and I sing together. “ ‘You’ll find—’ ”

“ ‘Me,’ ” Ana sings, stepping toward the front of the stage.

“ ‘Me,’ ” Ed sings, joining her.

I look over at Mikey at my side. “ ‘Me.’ ”

Mikey grabs my hand. “ ‘Me.’ ”

The whole cast joins together for the last lyric, all of us grinning triumphantly. “ ‘On my street!’ ”

The lights go out. And with that, our opening-night performance is done. The lights come back up, the curtain call music plays, and the audience claps wildly. As we line up to bow, I find my parents and Lex in the front row. They’re all absolutely losing it.

Ms. Mooney, dressed up in a blue jumpsuit, comes out onstage with us. “Thank you so much for being here tonight!” she says, and the applause slowly dies down. “This has been a difficult time for our students, as I’m sure you are all aware.”

Understatement of the century, Ms. Mooney.

“Even though I didn’t have the privilege of working with these students throughout the whole rehearsal process, I am so proud of the show they’ve put together. They’ve pushed through all the challenges in their way to make something really impressive.” She beams at all of us as she says this. We smile back at her, our stage makeup nearly dripping off our faces after two hours of singing and dancing under hot stage lights.

After everything went down, the school somehow convinced Ms. Mooney to step in as our director, as if she didn’t already have enough to do with running the choir. Mr. B never came back to school after the scholarship ceremony. But T. K. Anderson didn’t fire him. Instead, he was placed on “administrative leave.” Apparently this means he’ll be paid not to come to work while they investigate. Which seems like bullshit to me, but whatever. At least he’s not here anymore.