“Oh my god, Lex, he didn’t threaten me,” I say, putting down the cauldron. “I definitely read too much into what he was saying. Plus, he asked other people to audition too.”

“Other people?” Lex says, raising her eyebrows. “Like who?”

“Ana.”

“So one other person? Who he definitely could have threatened with the scholarship too?”

What a horrifying idea. It’s not that I think he threatened her. It’s just that this turned into yet another round of Ana vs. Shay. Except competing to see who can make a teacher like them more is a new low, even for us.

“Girl, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you,” Lex says, her expression softening. She runs her fingers back through her hair, which she does sometimes when she’s stressed. “Let’s go to your place and do MAT drills,” she announces. It’s a peace offering for bothering me about Mr. B and Ana. If it gets her to practice for the test, I’ll take it.

“Awesome,” I say. “My mom hasn’t seen you in a while. She’s worried we’ve broken up.”

After I finish bottling the potion, we wipe down the prep room and say goodbye to Pilar. I pull out my phone on the way to the car to text Mom about Lex coming over. There’s an email waiting when I unlock the phone.

I stop dead in my tracks when I see the sender’s name. Why is Mr. B emailing me? I quickly swipe the screen to open the email.

“What’s up?” Lex calls, because I’m just standing stock-still in the middle of the parking lot.

The email reads:

Hey Shay,

You didn’t come by to pick up your cast packet, so I’ve attached it here. Get your parents to sign the permission form for the potion use in the show ASAP. See you in rehearsal!

Shit.

Lex was right. Does that mean I’m in the ensemble? I should have gotten someone to check the list for me.

“Shaaaaay, what’s up?” Lex repeats.

“I got cast in the show,” I say, still staring at the email.

“Oh my god. As what?”

“I don’t know.” Who can I text to ask? I don’t think I have anybody’s number who was at the audition. Maybe I could message someone on WizConnect?

“Can you text Ana?” Lex says, bobbing up and down on her heels excitedly. I give her a disparaging look. “I mean, ew, no, we hate her.”

As if the universe is taking pity on me, I get a text from someone marked “Chem Project Ed.”

CHEM PROJECT ED: yo, my man Mikey is pumped to be your Oscar

“Who’s Chem Project Ed?” Lex asks, peering at my screen.

“Ed Ferrero,” I say, already typing my response.