The whole thing gives me a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t want to be brown window dressing on white Bronxtown Brooms. If I get a small part like I’m hoping for, that’s what it’s going to feel like.

Think of the scholarship, Shay. Think of the scholarship.

Chapter 8

VALERIA:

The neighborhood’s changing so much every day

Prices are rising, so no one can stay

And I am just watching the place that I love

Slowly, slowly slipping away

—Lyrics to “My Soft Place to Land” from Bronxtown Brooms

Once the guys are done singing, Brittany announces that we should all meet onstage in five minutes for the dance call. My stomach flips. I’m reasonably coordinated, but I haven’t danced in front of anybody since I was in a musical in middle school. And I would prefer to keep it that way.

We slowly make our way into the auditorium, and Ed appears beside me out of nowhere. “Ask me how my audition went,” he says, throwing his arm around me.

I push off his arm. We are not friends—we have one class together, and that’s the extent of our interactions—so that’s way too much Ed in my personal-space bubble for my liking.

“Sorry, dude, boundaries, I get it,” he says, giving me finger guns. “Ask me how it went.”

“How’d your audition go?” I say unenthusiastically.

“Crushed it,” he whispers, grinning. His attention flicks away from me. “Yo, Mikey!” He lopes down the aisle, leaving me Ed-free for a few moments. I slip off my shoes and make my way onto the stage. Once there, I linger on my own while other people chat in groups.

This is one of those moments when I wish Lex was still at school. I don’t need lots of close friends, but it would be nice to have her around more.

Ana strides onstage wearing these little black dance heels with leggings and a red leotard. Her dark curls swing behind her, bouncing in time with her steps. I do a literal double take, then promptly feel like a fool and stare down at my socks. She looks like she’s here to audition for Broadway, while the rest of us are screwing around onstage like we’re toddlers at our first dance class. To make things worse—and I hate that I’m even thinking this—she looks hot as hell.

“Hellooooo, Dolly,” Ed says, appearing beside me. He eyes Ana and flashes a grin at me like he said something funny, but I don’t get what the joke was.

Ana takes a spot just in front of me, then sits on the floor with her legs in a straddle. She’s hot and flexible? Her legs are basically in a full split. She stretches over to both sides, then flattens her torso to the floor in front of her.