We start Act Two while we’re still stuffing our faces. Ana looks annoyed for most of the second act, which might have something to do with the cartoonishly bad Hispanic accent that Brittany suddenly puts on for her big song. For once, I’m on Ana’s side. The accent is both offensive and confusing, since Brittany’s character is one of the few in the script that is explicitly not Latinx.

When we finish the read-through, Ana immediately throws her stuff in her bag and heads out. Everyone else lingers, gathering around Mr. B to make überspecific inside jokes and talk about how excited they are to do the show.

Nerves bubble in the pit of my stomach as I join the group. I don’t want to look pathetic, like I’m dying for Mr. B’s attention, but I also shouldn’t seem standoffish. In the end, I settle on lingering at the edge of the group with a vaguely pleasant look on my face. Eventually the conversation shifts, and I have to listen to one of my castmates complain about the immersion trip she went on over winter break to the French Empire.

“They’re just really convinced that the French way is the only way to do magic,” she says. “I dunno, I felt, like, profiled for being American. Okay, we get it—you invented magic. But we’re better at it, so. Whatever.”

What is she even talking about? That’s rude and inaccurate. The French didn’t invent magic, just Awakening potions. Magic always existed, even before many people could manipulate it.

Mr. B laughs. “I hope you didn’t say that to any of your new French friends.”

There’s a brief pause where it becomes clear to everyone that she definitely did tell her French friends that.

“I’m sure they very much appreciated being educated on their country’s inferiority,” Mr. B says, chuckling. “Maybe we should send you to China next. You can tell them that they only have a stronger economy than us because they stole America’s magitech secrets.”

The whole group starts to giggle. Mr. B gives her a cheeky grin that asks her forgiveness for poking fun at her. She smiles back and laughs along with everyone else, though her cheeks have gone a little pink.

“So how’re you feeling about your first day with these clowns, Shay?” Mr. B says, looking to me. “Have we scared you off yet?”

Suddenly the whole group is staring at me. “Not yet,” I say, feeling unexpectedly important now that I have his attention.

“Watch out—we’ll convert you to be a theater kid by the time this show is over,” he says.

“One of us! One of us!” Ed chants, waving his fists in the air. Mikey starts chanting along with him, and then a few other voices join in.